The shouting reached us before the people did.
"—over here! I swear I saw light—""No, that was probably just a reflection—""Wait… are those kids?"
A dozen campers burst through the trees, weapons half-raised, half-forgotten. Older ones mostly. Some looked ready to fight. Others looked like they'd just sprinted uphill and were questioning all their life choices.
They stopped short when they saw us.
And then the clearing.
And then the ash.
And then me.
A long, awkward silence stretched.
A freckled, red-haired boy finally broke it. "…So either we missed the fight," he said slowly, "or this place just exploded on its own."
Another camper squinted at the scorched ground. "Did… something disintegrate here?"
Thalia leaned her spear on her shoulder. "Something tried to kill us."
"Keyword: tried," I added.
Several heads snapped to me at once.
Luke stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… we were kind of running for our lives."
Grover raised a trembling hand. "And we did not die. So. That's good."
A girl with a braid pointed at me. "Is he… glowing?"
"I am not glowing," I said immediately.
She leaned closer. "You are glowing."
I sighed. "I prefer the term ambient lighting."
A few snorts. Someone laughed. The tension cracked slightly.
Chiron cleared his throat, stepping forward, eyes sharp but calm. "Everyone, lower your weapons. They're under camp protection now."
A girl muttered, "I'm still counting this as weird."
Campers started talking all at once.
"Who's the big kid?""Why is his shirt still smoking?""Is that ash?""Did he do that?"
Someone finally asked aloud:
"So," a camper said, arms crossed, smirking, "Apollo kid?"
I blinked. "Wow. You guys move fast."
Luke perked up. "Right? That's what I said!"
Annabeth nodded, already analyzing. "Light-based abilities. Healing. Precision. That fits."
Another camper added, "Plus the glow. Definitely glow."
"I already said—"
"Apollo kids always say that," someone interrupted.
I looked at Thalia. "Do I?"
She smirked. "You kind of do."
Great.
A taller camper—scar across his cheek, posture like he owned the world—grinned at me. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, sunshine."
"Thanks?" I said flatly.
A smaller kid whispered loudly, "He killed all of them, right?"
"I did."
Dead silence.
"…Cool," the kid squeaked.
Chiron's gaze swept over me carefully. Silent. Controlled. Judging.
One camper elbowed another. "Told you, Apollo kids are scary."
"I'm standing right here," I said.
"And glowing," the camper added helpfully.
Thalia rolled her eyes. "Can we move this along before something else tries to eat us?"
That snapped everyone into motion.
"Right. Cabins. Medical. Food," I said. "Preferably in that order."
A girl near the back muttered, "I still think he's Apollo."
Another voice: "Nah. Apollo kids are loud."
I glanced at Luke. "Am I loud?"
Luke snorted. "You're worse. Calm… but worse."
Annabeth gave me a sideways look. "That's… not reassuring."
We started walking toward the camp proper. Strawberry fields stretched ahead, campfires flickering in the distance.
A son of Hermes glanced back. "So, Apollo cabin's gonna be crowded tonight."
I shrugged. "Guess I'll bring sunglasses."
Thalia snorted. "You're enjoying this."
"A little," I admitted.
Behind us, campers whispered. Apollo this. Apollo that.
I didn't correct them.
Not because I believed it.
But because, for now? It was easier to let them be wrong.
.
.
.
Somewhere in a realm filled with darkness. Threads stretched in every direction, glowing, fraying, tangling. Gold. Silver. Ash-gray. Mortal lives. Demigod lives. Short. Long. Broken. Snapped.
Three sisters sat where time folded into itself.
Clotho's fingers moved fast, spinning thread like she always did. Her hands suddenly stilled.
"…That's not right."
Lachesis leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "Which one?"
Clotho lifted a thread between trembling fingers.
It wasn't gold.It wasn't silver.It wasn't mortal gray.
It shimmered faintly with a blue-gold colour, threaded through shadow.
"This thread wasn't here before," Clotho whispered.
Atropos turned slowly, shears resting across her lap. The air grew heavier when she moved. "Everything has a thread."
"This one shouldn't," Lachesis said sharply. "It intersects without origin."
She traced it. The thread cut across multiple destinies such as Luke's, Annabeth's, Thalia's without belonging to any of them.
Clotho swallowed. "It's rewriting probability."
Lachesis hissed. "Impossible."
Atropos raised her shears slightly.
The thread did not react.
Silence.
That had never happened before.
"…It does not fear the cut," Atropos said slowly.
Lachesis's voice dropped. "Is it a god?"
"No," Clotho said immediately. "God-threads burn. This one… feels different."
Atropos stared longer. "Then it is worse."
They followed the thread.
Forest.Blood.Ash.Children running.
And then towards Camp Half-Blood.
The thread passed the border.
It didn't slow.
It didn't bend.
It didn't ask permission.
Clotho's voice shook. "It actually walks into the sanctuary."
Lachesis whispered, almost angry now, "That thread was never approved."
Atropos closed her fingers around the shears.
"…Do not cut it," Clotho said urgently.
"Not yet," Lachesis agreed. "We need to see where it leads."
The sisters watched as the thread wove itself deeper into the tapestry.
Not bound.Not claimed.Not obedient.
Atropos finally spoke.
"When the gods notice," she said calmly, "it will already be too late."
.
.
.
The forest thinned just like that.
The weight I hadn't realized was pressing down on my chest is now eased. The crunch of leaves softened beneath our feet. The air warmed, less sharp, less hostile. Like the world had decided, very graciously, to stop trying to murder us for five whole minutes.
Luke let out a long breath. "Please tell me that means we're close."
Grover nodded a little too fast. "Yeah, this is it. Camp's right there."
Annabeth squinted ahead, eyes narrowing. "The border."
I blinked. "Border?"
They all slowed instinctively.
I didn't.
I stepped forward, and nothing happened.
No resistance.No pressure.No spark.No warning.
Just the same old grass beneath my boots.
Luke stopped short behind me. "Uh… did you feel that?"
I glanced back. "Feel what?"
Annabeth frowned. "The barrier. It's—"
She took a step forward and flinched. Just barely. Like she'd brushed something invisible but very real.
Grover sucked in a breath. "Yeah. That's definitely the border."
I looked down at my hands. No glow. No reaction. No dramatic divine rejection.
"…Huh," I muttered. "Guess it likes me."
Thalia stared at me longer than usual, eyes sharp, unreadable. "Or it doesn't know what to do with you."
Fair.
We crossed together.
Strawberry fields spread out ahead of us, absurdly peaceful. Campers training in the distance. The ring of metal on metal. Full of laughter and the camper voices.
Normal, way too normal. Just like a summer camp.
That's when I felt it.
Not resistance.
Attention.
Not from the camp.
From somewhere much higher.
I smirked faintly. "Yeah… this place is gonna be fun."
Behind us, the forest went still.
And somewhere far beyond sight, three sisters tilted their heads, watching a thread slide out of place where it was never meant to be.
The gods, for now, hadn't noticed.
Right now we're heading towards the camp director office.
Mr. D was already there, sprawled in his director's chair. Hawaiian shirt. Diet Coke in hand. Sunglasses on, despite the shade.
He didn't look up when we stopped in front of him.
"Chiron," he said flatly. "You're late."
Chiron cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, Lord Dionysus."
"Don't 'Lord' me. I'm on punishment." He waved a lazy hand. "And I told Zeus I'd start caring at three. It is currently—" he glanced at his watch, scowled, "—still not three."
Luke, Annabeth, and Grover froze like they'd accidentally wandered into a boss fight they weren't ready for.
Thalia crossed her arms. "We got attacked on the way in."
Mr. D sighed. "Yes, yes, monsters attack children, very tragic, very repetitive. You'd think they'd develop hobbies."
His head tilted slightly.
Just a fraction.
His gaze landed on me.
I felt it, his gaze. Not pressure, not powerm just the sense of being… evaluated. Like a bored god poking a puzzle piece that didn't fit.
"…Huh," Mr. D muttered.
Chiron noticed immediately. "Is something wrong, my lord?"
Mr. D leaned forward in his chair, peering at me over his sunglasses. "Kid."
I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Thalia shot me a warning look. I ignored it.
Mr. D sniffed the air. Actually sniffed. Then frowned.
"You smell like moonlight," he said.
Luke blinked. "Uh… what?"
Annabeth looked between us. "That's not a thing."
Mr. D waved her off. "It absolutely is. I invented three kinds of moonlight. Don't ask."
He squinted harder at me. "But you don't look like her."
Chiron stiffened. Just slightly.
I tilted my head. "One of who?"
Mr. D leaned back, unimpressed. "Relax, glowstick. If I meant to accuse you of something, there would be screaming."
Thalia muttered, "Comforting."
He took a sip of his Diet Coke, grimaced like it personally offended him, then pointed at me with it. "You. What's your name?"
"Abel."
"That's it?"
"Do I look like I came with a last name?"
Mr. D snorted despite himself. "Bold. I like it. Hate you already."
Annabeth whispered, "He does that."
Mr. D's eyes never left me. "You walked through the border without an escort."
Grover swallowed. "S-sir, I—I didn't authorize—"
"I wasn't talking to you, Goat Boy."
Grover shrank.
Mr. D tilted his head again. "No flare. No resistance. No divine ping."
Chiron said carefully, "Some demigods have… unusual circumstances."
"Oh, I'm sure they do," Mr. D replied dryly. "But this one feels like someone filed the paperwork wrong."
I smirked. "Happens a lot."
Thalia shot me another look. I smirked harder.
Mr. D studied me a second longer, then waved his hand. "Whatever. If Zeus wants me to care, he can say it to my face."
He stood up, stretching lazily. "No claiming. No announcements. No dramatic glowing symbols in the sky. I do not want a repeat of the Apollo Incident."
Annabeth perked up. "There was an Apollo Incident?"
"No."
"Yes."
"Moving on."
Mr. D turned toward Chiron. "Cabins as usual. Let him bunk wherever the chaos level seems appropriate."
Chiron hesitated. "And… his godly parent?"
Mr. D paused.
Just long enough.
"…Undetermined," he said smoothly. "Which is going to annoy several people, and that alone makes it worth it."
His gaze flicked back to me with sharp, calculating looks. But the sarcasm returned instantly.
"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Abel. Try not to start a prophecy before dinner."
I shrugged. "No promises."
Mr. D groaned. "Great... Another one."
He snapped his fingers, already turning away. "Chiron. If Artemis shows up yelling, I wasn't here."
Chiron blinked. "Sir?"
Mr. D froze.
"…That was a joke," he said quickly.
Too quickly.
Then he vanished in a swirl of purple grapes.
Silence hung in the air.
Annabeth finally exhaled. "Okay. So. That happened."
Luke glanced at me. "You always freak gods out like that?"
I grinned. "Only the fun ones."
Thalia stared at me, expression unreadable.