The Minotaur was larger than Percy remembered—easily ten feet tall, broad as a wrecking ball, its bull-like face twisted in an expression of confusion. It had stood at the crest of Half-Blood Hill, snorting plumes of steam from its nostrils, its massive hooves parting the grass under Thalia's tree. Before it had charged, of course.

Percy tightened his grip on Riptide as Minerva's voice crackled in his mind, impossibly cool amid the storm of adrenaline surging through his veins.

"Varlet, I must commend your suicidal tendencies," it said dryly. "Facing a charging Minotaur with such limited battle readiness is as ill-advised, but then again, you never were one for caution."

"Not now," Percy muttered, rolling his shoulders as he assessed the impromptu battlefield.

The ground was uneven, the air thick with the scent of pine and old magic. The barrier protecting Camp Half-Blood shimmered faintly behind him, just out of reach. If he could lure the Minotaur close enough, maybe he could maneuver it into a position where-

The beast had reached him.

Percy barely had time to dodge before the Minotaur's horns ripped through the space where he'd been standing. The force of its movement was felt even as he dashed to the side, sending a tremor through the ground as it barreled past, tearing up clumps of earth. He pivoted on his heel, blade flashing as he slashed toward the tendon behind the Minotaur's knee.

Too slow. The Minotaur twisted, faster than anything that big had a right to be, and Percy had to roll out of the way to avoid a backhanded strike that would've sent him flying off the hill.

"Oh, excellent attempt," the AI said with an almost playful note. "Though, if you were attempting to be trampled underhoof, I must say: masterfully done."

Percy scowled. He took a breath, recalibrated. The Minotaur had reach, weight, and raw power—so did the countless beasts that beset Olympus Primaris during his tenure as its sole guard. If he could win against the horrors of the other pantheons, he could handle this. He just needed to be methodical. Efficient.

He lunged forward again, this time feinting left before rolling right, slicing the Minotaur's outer calf. The cut was shallow, but the beast had snorted in pain.

Encouraged, Percy circled, forcing the Minotaur to turn with him, shifting its weight onto the wounded leg. It was a test of patience now. He would wear it down, force it to move more than it wanted, then strike the moment it overextended itself.

The AI hummed approvingly. "Admirable. Exploiting the weaknesses of a lumbering opponent. Were you capable of maintaining such strategy across multiple engagements, I daresay you might rise above mere… what is the term? Ah. Cannon fodder."

Percy gritted his teeth. "Would it kill you to just say 'good job'?"

"Only when you start developing more than a few neural pathways to operate with."

The Minotaur, apparently tired of being bled like a wild boar, snorted and stomped the ground.

Then it leaped.

"IT CAN DO THAT!?"

Percy's stomach lurched as the massive beast arced through the air. It was unnatural, WAYYY too fast for something of its bulk, and he had mere seconds to react. Instinct screamed for him to use water, to call forth the force of the water to smash the Minotaur out of the air-

But when he reached for it, nothing happened.

It was like grasping at mist. The power was there, somewhere, but his body and soul were still misaligned, the flow just a touch off. His breath hitched as he realized he wasn't a millenia-old veteran at this moment, he was just a sixteen-year-old with a sword.

The Minotaur crashed down, hooves first, the impact sending out a concussive shockwave. Percy barely twisted aside in time, but the force sent him skidding across the dirt. He coughed, spitting silver-red blood.

Minerva's condescending voice cut through the ringing in his ears. "Ah. That would have been an opportune moment for hydrokinetic intervention. I do hope this is not a sign of chronic incompetence."

"Shut up, please." Percy growled, forcing himself to his feet.

The Minotaur pawed the ground, muscles flexing, preparing to charge again. Percy had lost his one surprise advantage against the beast. If he let the Minotaur dictate the pace now, he was done for.

Which meant he had to do something stupid.

With a burst of speed, Percy ran straight for the beast.

It hesitated for half a second, startled by the unexpected move, and that was all the time Percy needed. At the last moment, he dropped into a slide, skidding beneath the Minotaur's swinging arm, and as he passed, he slashed—deep this time, carving into the sensitive flesh behind its knee.

The Minotaur roared as its leg buckled, slamming down to one knee.

Percy scrambled to his feet. He could taste the iron on his tongue, but he didn't stop. He pivoted around the beast's flank and leaped onto its back, gripping its coarse fur. The Minotaur bucked wildly, trying to dislodge him, but Percy held on. He reached for one of its thick, ridged horns, braced himself-

And pulled.

The Minotaur bellowed, twisting violently, but Percy dug his heels in and wrenched harder, his muscles screaming. The horn cracked at its base, then snapped free with a sickening crunch. The force sent him tumbling to the ground, rolling as he hit the dirt, breath ragged.

The Minotaur swayed. Its remaining horn sparked with some lingering divine energy, but the wound was too deep. It staggered, then collapsed with a final, pained groan.

Percy lay there, chest heaving, staring at the horn in his hand.

"Varlet"

Percy let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah?"

A pause. Minerva begrudgingly gave a burst of static.

"Passable."

Percy rolled onto his back, exhausted, as the barrier of Camp Half-Blood shimmered before him. A few figures hanging around the top of the hill seemed to be waving some other people over and pointing at him. The fight was over. He had won.

As Percy lay on the dirt, still catching his breath, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped him back to reality. He sat up, idly realizing that the Lycaon's heart was putting in work, reknitting damaged and torn sections of his body back together..

A figure crested the hill, silhouetted against the camp's shimmering border. The unmistakable glint of a spear slung across their back marked them as a child of Ares. It wasn't Clarisse—too tall, broader shoulders, different posture. Probably one of her half-brothers, a forgettable figure.

The demigod slowed as they took in the scene: Percy Jackson, beaten and dirt-streaked, sitting beside the corpse of a Minotaur. Their gaze flicked to the severed horn in his grip, then back to his face.

"Well, shit," the Ares kid muttered.

Percy groaned and stayed lying prone on the floor. If this guy was anything like Clarisse, he was about to have a whole lot more trouble.

"Something you need?" Percy asked, experimentally rolling his shoulders.

The demigod let out a low whistle. "What's your name? That's the Minotaur. As in the Minotaur. And you took it down alone?"

"Percy Jackson, and yeah," Percy said, "What's it to you?"

Instead of hostility, the Ares camper gave him an appraising look, like sizing up a new contender in the ring. Then, without another word, he turned and jogged down the hill, straight toward the heart of Camp Half-Blood.

Percy frowned. "Okay. That's not ominous at all."

The AI's voice crackled to life in his mind. "Ah, delightful. It appears your exploits have drawn attention, Varlet. I do hope you enjoy scrutiny."

Percy sighed and started toward the camp. If word was spreading, he might as well face it head-on.

Inside the Big House, Chiron and Mr. D were mid-game at their usual card table. The centaur sat with his wheelchair tucked beneath him, his expression patient as he watched Dionysus lazily shuffle the deck. The god of wine looked supremely uninterested, as usual, his grape-colored camp shirt rumpled from reclining in his chair.

"You're stalling, Chiron," Mr. D droned, shuffling the deck again. "Just admit I'm winning."

Chiron, ever the strategist, merely arched an eyebrow. "You haven't played your move yet."

Dionysus huffed. "Fine." He placed his card down, then snapped his fingers. A goblet of Diet Coke appeared in his grasp, which he sipped with a smirk.

At that moment, a loud rap sounded against the door. A demigod burst in, panting. "Sir! We—uh—we've got something big."

Chiron straightened. "Go on."

The camper gulped. "Some new kid just took down the Minotaur, outside the border, past Thalia's tree"

Dionysus barely lifted his gaze from his drink. "Mmm. Wonderful. Another monster slayer. I'll send a fruit basket. That's what the mortals do these days, isn't it?"

Chiron, however, had gone very still. "The Minotaur? You're certain?"

"Yes, sir. I just saw him—he was carrying one of its horns. Looked completely wiped out, but alive."

Chiron inhaled deeply, his fingers steepled. "And his name?"

The demigod hesitated. "Uh… Parcy Jack- something?, I think."

A weighty silence filled the room.

Chiron set his cards down. "Percy Jackson."

Dionysus rolled his eyes. "Oh, wonderful. Another child of some insufferable god here to cause more problems."

The centaur didn't respond immediately. His mind was racing, piecing together the implications. A child he personally shadowed, barely into his teens, had bested a creature that had slain far more seasoned demigods. Even for a hero's progeny with a legendary weapon like Riptide, this was unusual.

And if this boy's origin was who Chiron suspected…

"Have some of the campers go retrieve him," Chiron said finally. "Bring him to the Big House. Call Grover, a satyr in the forest, too"

The demigod nodded and dashed off.

Dionysus sighed. "So? Is he another one of your little projects, Chiron?"

Chiron looked toward the window, watching as shadows moved through the camp, demigods murmuring to each other as word spread.

"It's too soon to say," Chiron admitted. "But if he truly killed the Minotaur alone, then we may be dealing with a very powerful demigod."

Dionysus groaned. "Great. Another one of those."

Chiron didn't answer. He was already considering what this meant for the balance of power—what Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades might think.

And, more pressingly, what Percy Jackson's arrival at Camp Half-Blood would bring.

Two near-identical demigods, whom Percy vaguely remembered as the Stoll brothers, Travis and Connor, jogged up to the top of the hill. Huffing and puffing, they gasped for air before they stood up again. Coming to grab each of his arms, each brother took responsibility as they hoisted him up to his feet, before walking him around Thalia's Pine.

Percy stood at the crest of Half-Blood Hill, gazing down at Camp Half-Blood. The last time he had been here—truly aware, not half-dead and delirious—had been millennia ago. He remembered the way he had arrived then: barely conscious, slumped over Grover's shoulder, waking up to the scent of nectar and the sound of a conch horn in the distance. He'd been a confused boy, in a world he didn't understand.

This time, he arrived on his own feet.

"Debatable"

And the camp spread before him as familiar as home.

The landscape hadn't changed much. The valley rolled down in lush green hills, cut through with sparkling creeks and framed by the distant rise of forested mountains. The strawberry fields stretched wide, rows upon rows of vines basking in the sunlight, tended by satyrs humming old nature hymns. Smoke curled from the forges near the cabins, the clang of celestial bronze on anvil ringing through the crisp air. In the distance, the Big House stood the same as ever, its white columns shining under the mid-morning sun.

And gathered near the campfire pit, waiting for him, were the demigods.

Annabeth was there, her blonde curls catching the light as she crossed her arms. Next to her, Will Solace leaned against a post, talking with a taller girl Percy vaguely recognized as one of the newer Athena kids. Even Clarisse had shown up, arms folded, her expression unreadable but not overtly hostile. A few campers he didn't recognize loitered on the edges, whispering among themselves.

And they were all watching him.

His grip tightened on the Minotaur horn, partially shoved into his pocket. It had been an impulsive choice to keep it, but now, under so many scrutinizing eyes. Minerva's voice hummed in his mind, cool and calculating as ever.

"An entrance of significance. How unlike you, Varlet. Typically, your kind prefer to tumble into your introductions with all the grace of a capsizing blue whale."

Percy ignored her.

Annabeth stepped forward first. "Took you long enough," she said, her tone even, though her storm-gray eyes scanned him from head to toe, assessing.

"Yeah, well," Percy shrugged. "Had to stop and smell the ambrosia."

Her expression didn't soften. If anything, it sharpened. "I hope you realize how much trouble you're in."

Percy exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm getting that vibe."

Clarisse scoffed. "You think?" She gestured to the dissolving Minotaur's carcass still lying a few yards away. "You took out that thing alone. And you're still standing. People are gonna ask questions, new guy."

Annabeth sighed. "Chiron wants to see you."

"Figured."

"You know him?"

"Yeah, my old history teach." he said. "Scout's honor."

Annabeth studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Come on, then."

The walk across camp felt surreal. Some campers whispered as he passed, others tried not to look at him at all. The weight of their stares pressed down on him in ways he wasn't used to. It wasn't hero-worship he was used to in the past. It wasn't admiration. It was wariness.

By the time he reached the Big House porch, he could already hear Chiron and Dionysus inside. Their voices carried, though Mr. D's was unmistakably more bored than concerned.

Percy took a steadying breath.

"Varlet," Minerva cackled into life in his mind, the AI's tone measured. "When addressing an Olympian, even a lesser one, there is protocol. You are known for your irreverence, but I must caution you-"

"Yeah, yeah," Percy thought back. "I get it. Show respect. Don't be an idiot."

"A challenge for you, I am sure."

He scowled and pushed open the door.

Inside, Chiron sat in his wheelchair, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. Dionysus lounged at the card table, idly flicking through a deck of cards. He barely glanced up when Percy entered.

"Ah, Parcey Jackson," Mr. D droned. "Back from your little monster-slaying adventure, are we? I do hope you didn't cause too much property damage. Insurance on this camp is a nightmare."

Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Thank you, Mister Sir."

Minerva's voice cut in swiftly. "Now. Show deference. Lower your head slightly, avoid direct challenge in tone."

Percy swallowed his instinctive reply and did as she suggested. "I—uh, I appreciate the camp's hospitality."

Dionysus' fingers twitched. Just the slightest motion. His deep purple eyes flicked toward Percy with a strange intensity, and for half a second, the world around Percy tilted.

The room stretched. Colors twisted at the edges of his vision. The whispering of cards brushing together sounded like a hundred hushed voices.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished.

Dionysus smirked. "Interesting."

Chiron leaned forward slightly. "Percy," he said, steering the conversation forward, "we have much to discuss. Sit."

Percy hesitated, his mind still reeling from whatever had just happened. But he took the offered seat across from Chiron, exhaling slowly.

Minerva's presence in his mind was still. Not absent—never absent—but watchful.

Dionysus swirled his Diet Coke. "Tell me, Jackson," he mused. "Are you aware of the… thing lurking in your head?"

What-

Percy stiffened.

Chiron frowned. "What are you—?"

"Oh, please." Dionysus waved a dismissive hand. "Do you think the god of madness and revelry wouldn't notice another consciousness riding shotgun?" He tilted his head toward Percy. "You've picked up something peculiar, my dear boy. Something that doesn't quite belong in a mortal mind. Care to share with the class?"

Percy's pulse thundered in his ears.

"Varlet." Minerva's voice, for the first time, carried something other than dry amusement or detached analysis. "Be cautious."

He swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Dionysus just smiled, slow and knowing. "Of course you don't."

In a quieter tone, he mimicked Minerva's electronic voice. "Varlet, be cautious!"

The god laughed at himself.

Chiron, looking between them, sighed. "Enough, Dionysus. We have larger concerns. This shall be addressed at a later time."

The god of wine leaned back, but his smirk never faded. "As you wish."

Chiron turned to Percy, his expression unreadable. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

Shaken, Percy began to explain.

"Start from the beginning, Percy," Chiron prompted, his expression unreadable. "How did you get here?"

Percy ran a hand through his hair. His memory felt fragmented, patchy, like an old VHS tape missing sections of footage. Some moments were crystal clear, others a blur of instinct and movement. Minerva, ever the perfectionist, filled in the gaps she could where his mind faltered.

"Alright," Percy said, leaning back. "I guess it started at Goode High. Pretty normal day—classes were boring, I dozed off in English, history was Chiron—uh, I mean, Mr. Brunner—being cryptic as usual. But then things got weird."

The centaur nodded. He remembered that part.

"I knew I had to leave, but I didn't really know why. Think it was instinct, really."

"Instinctual recognition of a disturbance in localized reality," Minerva supplied in his mind. "Subconscious detection of anomalous activity. Typical demigod perception lag."

Percy ignored her. "Chiron gave me a pen, which turned out to be a sword. I took it as a message, got out while I could."

Dionysus sipped his Diet Coke. "Shocking. A demigod, acting on impulse? I can hardly believe it."

Percy scowled but continued. "I ended up in a maintenance corridor under the school. That's when I found an entrance. A weird mark, glowing blue, tucked behind the boiler room. It led to the Labyrinth. I don't know how, but I knew it was a way out. So I took it."

Chiron's brows knitted together. "That is deeply concerning. The Labyrinth should not be accessible so easily. It has been unstable since Daedalus' passing."

"Yeah, well, it let me in. Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

"Anyways, I ran into a monster camp—hellhounds, dracaenae, even a cyclops. They were talking about something big, some planned attack. I didn't stick around to find out."

"Because you ran?" Dionysus drawled.

Percy smirked. "Because I killed them first."

Chiron exhaled sharply through his nose. "You took on an entire monster camp alone?"

"They weren't expecting me. I had the element of surprise. Riptide did the rest."

"Highly inefficient combat maneuvering," Minerva mused. "Yet remarkably effective. Pattern of high-risk engagement remains consistent."

"Ugh, she sounds like Sister."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Percy shook his head. "The Labyrinth did something after that. I made an offering—don't ask how I knew to do that, but it felt right. And it responded. It led me out to Yosemite."

Chiron's expression tightened. "That is a long way from here."

"No kidding. That's where things get hazy. Looking for a way home.. Had to be careful. There were presences. Not just stuff like you guys"

Dionysus' fingers twitched on his cards. "Oh?"

Percy hesitated. He couldn't mention Asmodeus directly. "Didn't recognize the energy. Faint, but unsettling. Like something old was watching. Didn't stick around to ask for names."

Dionysus' gaze sharpened, just for a moment. Percy had the distinct feeling that the god of madness saw more than he let on.

"From there, I moved east. Found a river, followed it. Ran into a minor nature deity—friendly, thankfully. She didn't like that I smelled like the Hunt and something else. Didn't push too hard on what the 'something else' was."

Chiron rubbed his chin. "And you encountered no resistance with the Hunters of Artemis?"

"Not really, just roughed me up a little. Didn't have trouble for most of the trip until the Minotaur. That thing was waiting for me at the border of camp. Like it knew I was coming."

Dionysus snorted. "How very dramatic. And you fought it, alone."

Percy crossed his arms. "Yeah. And I won."

"Barely,"

Dionysus exhaled through his nose. "Well, well. Our little runaway has returned, fashionably late and covered in monster dust. Congratulations, Jackson. You remain a headache."

The hawaiian printed figure stood up. "I'll let you deal with this one, Chiron. Might havta bust into my secret alcohol stash for this." And with that, The figure retreated upstairs.

Chiron, realizing that the god was no longer looking for further conversation, turned back to Percy. "Go talk to the Apollo cabin, they have the nectar and ambrosia to patch you back up. I trust you've listed enough in my history classes to know what they do? Just hang around till the evening meal, you might get claimed. But for now, you will rest in Hermes' cabin, talk to Luke by the end of dinner if you have not been claimed."

"Sure."

"Off you go then, boy"

"I need nectar and ambrosia," he muttered.

Chiron nodded. "Apollo's cabin should have some in supply. Will Solace, the counselor, can get you what you need."

Percy turned toward the door, but before he could leave, Annabeth stepped in line beside him. "I'll come with you, Percy Jackson, was it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Worried I'll trip on the way there?"

Annabeth gave him a look. "Worried you'll do something reckless while still technically injured."

Percy sighed but didn't argue. They walked side by side, descending from the Big House's porch and making their way toward Apollo's cabin. The sun was just beginning to dip, casting golden light across the camp. The demigods had noticed him again, and descended into a hush.

"They're staring again," Percy muttered.

"Of course they are," Annabeth said, keeping her eyes forward. "You took down the Minotaur alone, and you came back walking like it was just another Tuesday. People notice that kind of thing."

Percy huffed. "Great. Just what I wanted. Rumors."

Minerva's voice clicked in his mind, cool and clinical as ever. "A predictable outcome. You have yet to master discretion. Get moving, the Satyr will realize our connection too quickly if he comes too close. Speaking of which, I have a request. Keep it private from my daughters, they will realize too quickly."

Percy frowned. "What now? And what's that about your daughters?"

"Pay attention, Varlet. Procure the necessary materials for Regen-Ex. Nectar and ambrosia will serve, but additional compounds are required. You will need norepinephrine, adrenaline, concentrated morphine, and tranexamic acid. As I am sure you are acutely aware, your tailored mix is… Better. Good... Gooderer. Am I saying that right? Do you even understand?"

Percy nearly stumbled. "Répertoire, that's not exactly something I can just grab from the camp store."

Annabeth glanced at him. "You good?"

"Yeah," Percy muttered. "Just thinking."

Minerva continued, undeterred. "Your excuses are noted, Varlet, yet ultimately irrelevant. I trust you to navigate the procurement process without arousing suspicion. Begin with the expected request, acquiring nectar and ambrosia. From there, extract what you need through acceptable means. Additionally, attempt to ingest more metals in your food, iron-rich would be preferable. My micro-circuits have been lost in great numbers. Cause: computational material expunged due to blood loss."

By the time they reached Apollo's cabin, the sun chariot sigil above the door cast long shadows across the worn wooden steps. Inside, the familiar scent of medicinal herbs and sun-warmed linen filled the air. Will Solace was kneeling beside a cot, tending to an injured camper with his usual practiced ease. When he spotted Percy, he arched an eyebrow.

"Well, well. The hero hath come to my door," Will said, standing. "Should I be honored that you actually came to me before dropping unconscious?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I just need nectar and ambrosia. Standard demigod snack." He kept his tone light.

Will studied him for a moment before shrugging. "Sure. Should still have plenty. You don't look too bad though." He turned to a cabinet, rummaging through the shelves. "Most people don't walk into my cabin after fighting a Minotaur. They usually get carried."

Annabeth shot Percy a knowing look. "See? Told you it was weird."

"It's called being efficient," Percy grumbled.

"It's called being reckless," Will corrected, tossing a small pouch of ambrosia and a vial of nectar onto the nearest cot. "But hey, who am I to argue with results?"

Percy grabbed the supplies, but his fingers hesitated for a moment. He needed more. Carefully, he tried to sound casual. "You guys wouldn't happen to have, like… anything for blood loss? Or morphine? Y'know, in case of emergency."

Will paused. Then narrowed his eyes. "Why do you need those?"

Percy forced a grin. "Uh, no reason? Just… good to have on hand."

Annabeth folded her arms. "Jackson, explain"

Minerva sighed in his mind. "Subtlety is an art forever beyond you."

Will crossed his arms. "I can get you some hemostats, maybe some energy boosters, but I'm not handing over adrenaline shots like candy. What are you planning?"

Percy scrambled for an excuse. "It's not for me. Just-, nevermind, look, I'm trying to be prepared. You know how my life works. One second, everything's fine, and the next I'm bleeding out in a ditch." He gestured vaguely. "Wouldn't hurt to have some extra insurance."

Will didn't look convinced. Annabeth, on the other hand, was scrutinizing him like she was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

"Fine," Will finally said. "I'll get you some of the medical stuff to keep you safe. But if you end up using it for something stupid, I'm gonna personally make sure Chiron hears about it."

"Noted," Percy said, relieved.

As Will went to retrieve the additional supplies, Annabeth leaned in. "You're up to something."

Percy sighed. "I'm always apparently up to something."

"This is different. You're planning something."

Percy hesitated, then shrugged. "Let's just say… I'm working on something new. Nothing dangerous. Just—insurance."

Annabeth didn't look fully convinced, but she didn't press. "Please don't try to make meth or heroin here. I heard that's what people do in the city. That would be stupid"

Percy smirked. "Define 'stupid.'"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "You aren't listening are you? Let's just get your stuff and go."

As they exited Apollo's cabin, Minerva spoke again. "Almost adequate execution, Varlet. I expect the next step to be completed with greater efficiency."

Percy sighed. This was only going to get more complicated.