Percy could barely remember what had happened. Hephaestus had given him a task, then fire, an explosion, the sensation of being thrown into the air, and a searing pain coursing through his body. Everything else was a blur. His last memory before losing consciousness was someone's voice telling him, "Don't move," followed by gentle pressure on his forehead and something warm sliding down his throat. He had no idea who it was or where he was now, but his instinct told him he'd been out cold for a while.

He woke up in a cave lit by colored crystals that reflected the light like stars trapped in rock. The air was fresh, and the bed he lay in was surprisingly comfortable. He sat up carefully, his body feeling numb and his head still somewhat heavy. Then he noticed his clothes: a white tunic made of light fabric and comfortable pants that weren't his own. Barefoot, he lowered his feet to the cold floor and, reflexively, checked his pockets. To his relief, Riptide was still there, next to the Stygian ice whistle Quintus had given him. Simply feeling those objects in his possession gave him a sense of stability amidst so much confusion.

Cautionously, he left the cave. He was greeted by a vibrant garden, filled with unfamiliar flowers and plants. In the distance, among the vegetation, he recognized that person. Although he couldn't remember exactly where he was from, something about their presence seemed familiar. His instinct told him to be alert, but curiosity was stronger. He cleared his throat and, his voice still raspy, asked,

"How long have I been unconscious?"