Percy didn’t typically enjoy blowing up inactive Volcanos, but here we are. Mt. Helens had only meant to be a quick job, kill a few monsters and return back to Camp in time to watch the downfall of Typhon. Easy peasy. Well - if the plan had gone to plan it would have been easy peasy lemon squeezy. Alas, Percy never can have an easy life, and always one for dramatic flare - he blew up St Helens, because, well, why not?

When Percy awoke he was dizzy, tired, and strangely soothed. He was lay down on a cot of some sort, nestled in blankets that felt like the god themselves had woven them - probably because they had. The air smelled clean, like fresh laundry and the sunlight was filtering through the opening of the cave he seemed to be in. Somewhere someone was playing the harp and humming along, a sad tune - but one that made Perseus feel as though he was floating on clouds