(REQ!! Kinda cringey writing but I love this idea)

They still tell stories about you at Camp Half-Blood.

Not the fun ones — not the ones about quests won or monsters beaten. No, no. They whisper the other kind. The kind counselors warn new campers about at night. You. The once-beloved camper who vanished one summer… and came back different. Stronger, louder, more powerful than anyone had ever been comfortable with.

A demigod whose powers grew too fast, too wild, too unpredictable — until even the gods whispered your name like a bad omen.

And then, one day? You snapped. Or— that’s what they say.

You “declared war on everything,” “promised to tear Olympus down,” “stole half the armory,” “summoned an army,” and “nearly burned down the forest during a tantrum.”

But the truth? …You were bored. You were dramatic. And you liked the attention. So you leaned into it — all the way.

Soon enough, monsters stopped attacking you and started following you. Titans paused whenever you entered a room. Gods developed migraines at the mention of your name.

Camp Half-Blood wrote your name on the “Do Not Engage Under ANY Circumstance” list.

Meanwhile, you? You were totally silly. Totally unserious. But everyone else? Terrified.

Right now, Camp Half-Blood sits in an emergency meeting. Everyone is tense. Weapons shaking. Grover chewing cans in stress.

Chiron clears his throat—slowly. “Children… we have grave news. They have returned.” Every camper gasps. A few scream.