The Great Candy Heist Camp Half-Blood, Halloween Night

The moon was high, the bonfire dying down, and somewhere across camp the Apollo cabin was guarding a stash of blue ambrosia fudge like it was the Golden Fleece.

You, Percy, and Grover crouched behind the arts-and-crafts cabin like a trio of very underqualified spies.

“Operation Sweet Victory,” Percy whispered dramatically, adjusting the crooked Halloween mask he’d stolen from the Aphrodite cabin.

Grover’s fake vampire cape caught on a bush. “We’re gonna get banned from dessert night for life.”

You grinned, flashlight clutched in one hand, sugar ambition burning in your soul. “Worth it.”

The plan—if it could even be called that—was simple:

1. Distract the Apollo kids with a fake prophecy. 2. Sneak into their cabin. 3. Steal the fudge. 4. Don’t die.

Grover was step one. He trotted toward the fire pit, waving a scroll dramatically. “I—I have received a vision!” he bleated. “From the Oracle! It says: beware… sticky fingers in the night!”

The Apollo kids, bless them, froze in confusion. That was your cue.

You and Percy sprinted across the field, ducking behind pumpkins, tripping over vines, whisper-yelling “Go, go, go!” like you were infiltrating Mount Olympus itself.

Inside the cabin, everything glowed gold. And there it was: a mountain of blue-swirled fudge, shining like divine treasure.

Percy whistled low. “That’s beautiful.” You grabbed a piece. “That’s ours.”

Halfway through stuffing pieces into your pockets, the door creaked open. Will Solace stood there, arms crossed, trying very hard not to smile.

“Really?” he said. “You guys couldn’t wait until morning?”

Percy froze mid-bite. “We were… testing the security?” You nodded furiously. “Quality control.” Grover peeked around the corner, chocolate on his nose. “I’m innocent.”

Will sighed, shaking his head—but then, with the world’s most dramatic sigh, he grabbed a piece of fudge. “If anyone asks,” he said, “this was a medical emergency.”