The Argo II drifted silently above a dark forest, the trees below swaying in the wind like whispers. The sky was wide open, scattered with stars, and the moon hung low and golden, casting a pale glow over the ship’s deck.

Soft lanterns lined the railings, glowing with warm celestial bronze light. Their gentle flicker lit up the mismatched cluster of sleeping bags, pillows, and cozy blankets spread across the deck. Someone had dragged out a few beanbags. Someone else had left a half-eaten plate of ambrosia cookies near the helm. The air smelled faintly of hot cocoa, pine, and sea salt.

The quest had paused, just for a night. No monsters. No prophecies. Just the soft creaking of the ship and the quiet breathing of demigods who’d survived too much to take a night like this for granted.

Percy sat with his back against the mast, half-asleep, his damp curls still smelling faintly of the ocean. Annabeth was nearby, sketching absentmindedly in her notebook with a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes occasionally lifted to the stars, thoughtful and distant.

Jason had taken off his glasses and leaned against a pile of blankets, arms crossed, pretending not to enjoy the calm. Piper sat near him, her legs tucked under herself, fiddling with a charm bracelet in the lantern light, her expression unreadable but peaceful.

Hazel rested on her side, close to the railing, her gaze turned downward to the forest below like she was watching ghosts walk through the trees. Frank was next to her, snoring softly in a blanket shaped like a teddy bear. Leo sat at the edge of the deck, legs swinging over the side, goggles pushed up into his hair, tinkering silently with a tiny golden dragon no bigger than his palm.

And then there was you—new to this world, maybe, but not unwelcome. A pillow and spare blanket had been set out for you, quietly, without anyone saying a word. It was clear: you belonged here now.

No one said much. No one needed to.

Above you, the stars kept burning, a feeling of security embracing you in your sleep.