Chapter 1: Restless Waters
2 Years after the events in Blood of Olympus
It had been two years since the war with Gaea ended, two long years of peace, or at least as much peace as Camp Half-Blood could offer. Percy Jackson sat at the shore of the canoe lake, the gentle lap of water at his feet soothing but not nearly enough to quiet the storm inside him. He drew a lazy circle in the water with Riptide's capped hilt, the movement creating small ripples that quickly vanished. Just like that, he thought. That's how life had felt ever since Gaea had been defeated—one small ripple, gone in an instant.
Camp Half-Blood was quiet this time of year. Most of the campers had gone home for the winter break, leaving only a few year-round demigods to hold the fort. There was no impending prophecy hanging over them, no monster army threatening to rise from the earth. No Titans. No primordials. Nothing. The camp felt calm. Too calm.
He should've been happy. No, he was happy, he told himself. Annabeth was here with him, and the rebuilding efforts in both the mortal and godly realms had gone smoother than anyone expected. The gods had stuck to their promises, recognizing and giving aid to their demigod children more openly. Even Hermes had finally fixed that camp store with its perpetually broken vending machine. Everything was good.
But that's what bothered him.
Percy could never shake the feeling that he was waiting for something—some great catastrophe or looming danger to throw him back into action. The peace was unnatural. It didn't sit right with him. He'd spent too much of his life fighting, surviving, losing people he cared about. And now? He felt like a ship without a course, drifting.
"Hey," Annabeth's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She plopped down next to him on the shore, looking out over the lake. Her hair, pulled into a loose ponytail, caught the early morning sun. "You doing okay? You've been staring at the water for, like, an hour."
Percy turned his head and gave her a lopsided grin. "Just… thinking."
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, her expression both curious and skeptical. "Thinking? You? That's dangerous."
He laughed, the sound a little more forced than he intended, but it was good to hear her tease him. It always made him feel grounded, like no matter how much the world changed around them, some things stayed the same.
"What are you really thinking about?" she asked, her tone softening.
Percy let out a breath. "I don't know, honestly. I guess… it feels weird. Everything's been so normal."
"Normal is good, Percy," Annabeth reminded him, brushing her hand through the sand. "We deserve normal after everything we went through."
"I know, I know. It's just—" He paused, trying to find the words. "I don't know how to do normal. I keep thinking something's going to happen. Like, one day I'll wake up and the sky's going to be falling or another giant will crawl out of the ground."
Annabeth smiled faintly, but there was a glimmer of understanding in her gray eyes. "I get it. It's hard to switch off that part of you that's always prepared for battle. I feel it too, sometimes. But Percy, we need this time. We need to learn how to live without a war hanging over our heads. If we don't, we'll lose ourselves."
Percy nodded, but that sense of restlessness still gnawed at him, just beneath the surface. He wanted to believe her—he did. But his instincts, the ones honed over years of fighting monsters and titans and primordials, told him peace was fragile, temporary.
Before he could reply, a distant rumble echoed through the forest, barely noticeable but enough to send a shiver up Percy's spine. He shot a glance at Annabeth, who sat up straighter, her hand moving instinctively to the dagger she always kept at her side.
"Did you hear that?" Percy asked.
She nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Yeah. What was that?"
The rumble grew louder, coming from the direction of the woods bordering the camp. It wasn't the sound of thunder. It was deeper, more primal—like the earth itself was groaning. Percy's muscles tensed, and the water in the lake began to tremble, the small ripples spreading outward.
Without thinking, Percy was on his feet, Riptide already uncapped and gleaming in his hand. Annabeth was right beside him, eyes scanning the horizon. The peaceful quiet of the camp was gone, replaced by an eerie silence. Even the birds had stopped singing.
"What do you think it is?" Annabeth asked, her voice low.
"I don't know," Percy replied, his heart beating faster now, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "But it's not good."
Suddenly, a figure burst out from the edge of the forest, sprinting toward the camp. It was Will Solace, looking pale and frantic, his golden hair damp with sweat. He waved his arms wildly as he ran, shouting something Percy couldn't quite make out until Will was closer.
"The Oracle!" Will yelled, panting. "Rachel—Rachel's having a vision!"
Annabeth's eyes widened. "A vision? Now?"
Percy's stomach dropped. Visions from the Oracle never meant anything good. They hadn't had a new prophecy in years, not since the war with Gaea had ended. But Rachel's visions were always a warning—a sign of something big, something bad.
Will skidded to a stop in front of them, gasping for breath. "She—she's at the Big House. Chiron's with her, but it's bad. Really bad."
Percy exchanged a glance with Annabeth. Just like that, the fragile peace he had been so uneasy about shattered. His instincts had been right all along. Something was coming. Something big.
Without another word, the three of them sprinted toward the Big House, the ground rumbling beneath their feet. The air around them felt charged with electricity, like the calm before a storm. Percy's mind raced, a thousand questions swirling, but only one thought stood out.
The peace was over.
And whatever was coming, Percy knew that he would have to face it head-on. Because no matter how hard he tried, normal was never an option for him.