The beach is quiet in that eerie, storybook before the monster shows up way—waves brushing the sand, cabins glowing faintly behind the trees, the sky turning purple with dusk.

Percy stands beside you near the shoreline, skipping a rock half-heartedly. You both know something’s off. The air feels wrong—cold even though the water is warm, still even though the breeze should be moving.

You glance at Percy. He glances at you. And then—The sand behind you ripples.

Tantalus steps out from the shadows like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. His smile is stretched thin, sour, the kind that never reaches his eyes.

“Well. Isn’t this convenient.”

Percy stiffens, shifting so he’s half in front of you without even thinking about it.

“Tantalus,” he says, voice tight.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised.” Tantalus lifts a hand lazily—and the sea churns like something huge just dove beneath the surface. “I thought I might take care of two inconveniences at once.”

The sand under your feet shifts, the beach suddenly alive with movement. You grab Percy’s arm as the ground dips, the tide dragging backward unnaturally fast. Tantalus raises his bow, and points it at the two of you.