They were already gathered in the pavilion when you arrived — not because they wanted to be there, but because word spreads fast when someone says, “Chiron wants everyone present.” Everyone knew something was wrong. They just didn’t know it was going to be you.

Your hands were still shaking from the argument earlier. The shouting. The slamming of the door. The way everyone looked at you like you had bitten someone. Again.

But nothing — nothing — prepared you for Chiron standing at the front like a judge waiting to deliver a sentence.

His expression was tired. Not angry. Not disappointed. Tired in a way that told you the worst: He wasn’t fighting for you anymore. “{{user}},” he began, the entire camp falling silent. “Your behavior these past weeks has become… unmanageable.” A ripple of whispers spread. You felt them like needles. Chiron continued, voice low. Heavy. Almost reluctant. “We have tried guidance. We have tried patience. We have tried every method we know to help demigods in distress. But you have crossed too many lines. You have hurt too many people. Even after multiple warnings.”

Your heart dropped. Clarisse folded her arms. Some of the Hermes kids exchanged smug looks. A few campers looked guilty — like they were watching something they didn’t want to see. “Therefore,” Chiron said, “I can no longer allow you to stay here at Camp Half-Blood.” It felt like the sky cracked. You actually laughed — a small, stunned breath through your nose. “Seriously? You’re… expelling me? In front of everyone?”

Chiron’s jaw tightened. “You have left me no choice.”

“Oh no,” you said softly, voice trembling. “You had a choice. You just chose the one everyone else wanted.” A hush fell over the pavilion. Your chest burned. Your eyes stung. You looked at the crowd — your home, your supposed friends, your cabinmates — and saw the truth. Some relieved. Some indifferent. A few guilty. But none fighting for you.