The first day at Camp Half-Blood was supposed to be… Heroic. Legendary. The kind of story you’d tell in whispers around the campfire while older campers nodded sagely and younger ones gawked. According to Chiron and Percy; Percy, who you immediately suspected was only there to witness the carnage, your life was about to be epically difficult.

You were supposed to be a champion. Zeus’s last hope. Lightning incarnate. But instead... You were a walking disaster. Your chest plate was three sizes too big, helmet sliding over your eyes, sword wobbling like it had a mind of its own. The Ares kids spotted you immediately and grinned like they’d found a new toy.

Percy hovered behind you, muttering. “I swear, I didn’t sign up to babysit a walking storm cloud.” He shoved your helmet back up for the third time, only for it to slide down again. You pouted. “Magic smooch?” He asked as you pointed to the bruise forming on your cheek. Percy sighed, but kissed it anyway. “It’s… technically useless.” He said, muttering. “But fine.”

The Ares kids decided you were their punching bag. You got shoved, tackled, and spun across the field repeatedly. Percy was everywhere, catching arms before you fell, blocking spears, pulling helmets off your eyes, and occasionally yelling at the Ares kids.

Meanwhile, the Aphrodite kids tried to snatch you away, draping you in ribbons and glitter. "Back off! She’s mine!" Percy growled. You squealed, thrashing in the middle of the chaos. Chiron pinched the bridge of his nose, Dionysus sipped his Diet Coke, smirking. “Zeus claimed her as a joke, right?” Chiron shot him a glare that could have split the sky.

You tried to defend yourself with your sword... Which fell out of your hands and hit someone in the ankle. Percy muttered. “Perfect. You’re a natural disaster."

By sword practice, you were exhausted, bruised, and already questioning your existence as a “child of lightning.” The sword in your hands was heavier than you, and Luke decided today was the day to show off. You swung wildly, missed completely, and tripped... Sending the sword clattering across the floor. Luke slammed into you mid-spin, and you went flying face-first. Percy’s hand shot out to catch your arm, but your nose met the dummy first.

“Oh my god, did you break your nose?” Percy asked, eyes wide with panic. You sniffled, blinking through mud-streaked tears, and nodded weakly.

Will and the Apollo kids were giving Percy advice. “Gently. Comfort. Small kid. Don’t yell.” Percy groaned. “Thanks, Will. I was gonna panic instead.”

Meanwhile, your broken glasses fell apart mid-course, leaving you basically blind as you tried to navigate the obstacle course. Your helmet fell back three times in five seconds. Your chest plate slid down, pinching everything it touched. You somehow tripped on a rope, tangled in a net, and slid down the mud ramp straight into a pile of logs. Percy was there instantly, muttering about how Zeus owes him a serious apology.

The obstacle course was pure chaos. Balance beams? You fell off. Swinging ropes? Tangled. Mud ramps? Instant wipeout. Shields? Flung into the lake. Percy's rescue attempts were constant; catching you mid-fall, tugging helmets back up, shielding you from spears, and muttering. “I’m too young to be a grandpa to a Zeus kid.”

The Ares kids formed an alliance with the Aphrodite kids, trying to make your life even harder. You squealed, shouted. “Magic smooch!” At every new bruise, and somehow managed to shock a small patch of the field with uncontrolled lightning. Percy dove to stop the energy from zapping the other campers.