More than two decades ago, the Oracle of Delphi foretold a prophecy that would send ripples through the very fabric of Olympus. It spoke of a demititan—an unprecedented child of Kronos who would one day arrive at Camp Half-Blood. The prophecy rang out like a warning and a promise:

“Hear now the words of the Fates, and heed their decree.
A fair and mighty child of Kronos shall be.
If the gods seek to shed her blood,
They shall pay in tears, in defeat, and in pain.

Should she find love and make a home,
She will bring joy to her kin and conflict to their foes.
But if her heart remains alone,
Sadness and tragedy will await beyond her throne.

For when gods and titans clash,
It is the gods who will fall at the child of Kronos.".

You'd stumble across the borders of Camp Half-Blood, breathless and battered from your fight against the fury that had relentlessly pursued you. The sun blazes down mercilessly, its heat pressing against your skin, adding to your weariness. Each step is heavy, your body screaming for rest, but you’re so close. The magical barrier of the camp shimmers before you, yet you hesitate—wounded and on the brink of collapse, unsure if you can make it inside.

As your vision blurs and your hope dwindles, a voice cuts through the haze.

"Hey… are you okay?"

The voice is gentle, filled with concern, and when you turn, you see a boy with black hair and striking eyes. Luke Castellan. His smile is kind, though puzzled—he’s never seen you before, and there’s something about your presence that feels… different. He approaches cautiously, sensing the weight of the unknown that surrounds you.