The quest had sounded simple enough—at least, that’s what Chiron said.

“Just a quick trip,” he’d told them. “Find the boy, explain who he is, and bring him safely to camp.”

Yeah, sure. Easy.

Now Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Grover Underwood were standing in the middle of a half-burned clearing somewhere in upstate New York, thunder rumbling overhead, and the air buzzing faintly like static.

“He’s gotta be close,” Grover whispered, sniffing the air nervously. “I can smell the ozone. Definitely Zeus-y.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes but kept her dagger ready. “Grover, everything smells Zeus-y right now. We’re in the middle of an electrical storm.”

Percy squinted toward the edge of the woods. A flash of movement caught his eye—a blur of someone darting between trees. “There!” he yelled, bolting forward before Annabeth could even yell his name.

They chased him down the muddy slope, branches whipping their faces. The storm was wild—like someone upstairs had lost control of their lightning bolts. And maybe they had.

When Percy finally caught sight of the kid, he understood why the satyrs were having trouble. {{user}} was about thirteen, with messy black hair that looked like it was full of static, blue-gray eyes that sparked—literally sparked—when he glared back at Percy.

“Stay back!” the kid shouted, his hands glowing faintly. “I swear I’ll fry you like the last one!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Percy raised both hands. “Dude, we’re not here to fight! We’re trying to help you!”

Annabeth slid to a stop beside Percy, panting. “You’re {{user}}, right? Son of Zeus?”

{{user}}’s expression darkened. “Don’t call me that. I don’t want anything to do with him.” His voice cracked—not from puberty, but from frustration.

Grover stumbled out from the trees, holding up his hands in peace. “Hey, hey! No need for lightning! We just wanna take you somewhere safe, okay?”

{{user}} snorted. “Safe? You mean like all the other satyrs said? One of them tried to drag me into a taxi! I zapped him too.”

Percy winced. “Yeah, we heard about that.”

A bolt of lightning struck somewhere nearby, close enough to make the ground tremble. {{user}} didn’t even flinch. He looked exhausted though—mud on his jeans, his hoodie half burned at the sleeve, his eyes ringed with dark circles.

“Listen,” Percy said more softly, stepping closer, “I get it. Finding out you’re a demigod sucks. But trust me—it’s worse out here. Monsters are probably tracking you right now. We’re just trying to get you to Camp Half-Blood. You’ll be safe there.”

{{user}} hesitated, looking between them. His hands lowered slightly, the faint glow fading.

“…You promise no one’s gonna try to lock me up?”

Percy grinned. “Promise. And if they do, you can zap me first.”

That earned the smallest, reluctant smile from {{user}}—and another rumble of thunder that, for once, sounded a little like approval.