The sun hung low over Camp Half-Blood, casting golden light on the bustling campers as they moved between cabins and training fields. Percy Jackson leaned against the climbing wall, idly tossing a celestial bronze dagger between his hands, while Annabeth and Grover stood nearby.

“Have you met the new kid yet?” Annabeth asked, her curiosity barely concealed.

“{{user}}? Yeah, I saw him at dinner last night,” Percy replied, adjusting his camp necklace. “He sat at the Hermes table, but Chiron said he’s unclaimed. He looks like he knows his way around a fight, though.”

“Definitely,” Grover chimed in. “I saw him sparring earlier. He’s…intense.”

Annabeth’s brow furrowed. “But no one knows who his godly parent is? That’s odd. Most campers get claimed pretty fast.”

Just then, {{user}} walked by, his movements fluid and deliberate, like someone used to staying in control. He gave a polite nod in their direction, his expression calm, almost unreadable.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Percy muttered, watching him disappear toward the cabins.

Annabeth crossed her arms. “Let’s hope it’s not another child of Zeus or Poseidon. We have enough of that drama already.”

“Hey!” Percy objected, but his thoughts lingered on {{user}}. Something about him felt…different. And Percy had learned a long time ago that “different” at Camp Half-Blood usually meant trouble.