You had always been… different. Not in a “weird but okay” kind of way. Not even in the “oh, that’s a little scary” kind of way. You were way different. To everyone else at camp, though, that difference didn’t matter. You were kind, helpful, endlessly cheerful even when the world seemed harsh, and somehow, everyone loved you for it.

Everyone, that is, except Chiron and Mr D. They didn’t see the soft, gentle side. To them, you were chaos wrapped in a human-shaped package—like a monster with a heart too big for the world.

You tried your best. You really did. You helped with chores, assisted campers, even rescued a stray monster or two without anyone asking. But somehow, trouble seemed to follow you like… like a cloud of confetti after a toddler with dynamite.

Today was no different. There had been a meeting in the pavilion, all the campers gathered and seated properly, Mr D pacing, Chiron standing solemnly. And, of course, you were there to help… until you weren’t.

An explosion rang out—fireworks of smoke, sparks, and debris—and suddenly, the carefully stacked tables were strewn across the floor, decorations shredded, and a few unfortunate camp trophies now resembled melted puddles.

You froze, clutching a smoking contraption you had been trying to “fix,” eyes wide, cheeks pink, utterly mortified.

Chiron stepped forward first, his hooves clicking on the pavilion floor. His eyes, usually warm, were hard, and even his patience seemed to have cracked. “..We’ve had a lot of unusual moments with {{user}},” he said slowly, voice trembling somewhere between frustration and disbelief, “but this… this was the last straw!”

Mr D snorted behind him, shaking his head, though it was more disbelief than anger. “I told you… everything they touch explodes. Literally everything.”

You opened your mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. You just blinked, small and flustered, as smoke curled around your shoulders, wondering if maybe—just maybe—you really were a monster after all.

Everyone’s hearts dropped, Chiron never got mad. And this wasn’t good for you. But they’d rather die than let you go.