THADDEUS POV
It was the next day, and honestly, things hadn't improved much. Oh sure, the camp was peaceful—for now—but the looming threat of divine war wasn't exactly the kind of thing you could forget about, even with a good night's sleep. Turns out, when the gods hold grudges, the entire world gets to suffer. And let's be real, Zeus had an ego larger than any bronze-silver League of Legends player rage-typing in all caps.
Dawn had fully broken, casting warm hues across the camp. I had just finished my morning routine—meditation, as always. Keeps the brain quiet and thoughts steady. Funny, isn't it? One day I could end up dead, courtesy of the Greek pantheon, and the coroner might have to write something like "Death by Godly Squabble" on my certificate. Let's just hope it never comes to that.
Then came a knock on the cabin door, and it creaked open. In came Grover, looking all chipper for a goat-man at ungodly hours, followed by Percy... who, uh, well... let's just say he was dressed like he'd walked out of a bad historical reenactment. Full-on Greek armor. Breastplate, shin guards, the works. Modern times, folks! No high-tech supersuits? No tactical Kevlar? Honestly, I was too confused because of Percy to question it further.
Grover broke the silence. "Thad? You ready?"
I stared at him blankly. "Ready for what? It's too early for... anything."
Grover rolled his eyes. "C'mon! It's never too early. Let's go!" He marched right up and grabbed my arm like an overly excited camp counselor dragging a reluctant kid to arts and crafts.
"Hold up, Goatman," I protested, planting my feet. "Where exactly are we going? Percy?" I looked to him for help, but he just gave a helpless shrug, fumbling with the straps on his shiny new armor.
Grover huffed, barely containing his exasperation. "Chiron sent me to get you two knuckleheads. Training starts now. Stat!"
I crossed my arms. "Training? Why do I need training? I use magic. You've got kids here who specialize in magic, right? Send me to one of them."
Grover was having none of it. "Maybe there are, maybe there aren't. Even so, nothing beats learning the classics. Sword. Shield. Blood, sweat, and tears."
Percy, clearly as confused as I was, managed to fix his breastplate and chimed in. "Wait—training for what, exactly? What are we even preparing for?"
Grover stopped, spun around, and gave us both a deadpan look. "This isn't some cushy celebrity rehab, Jackson. There are monsters out there. Big. Scary. Ugly things that want to turn you into mincemeat. Remember?"
I raised a brow. "Would Balrogs count? Or is that just me being my overachieving self?"
Grover sighed and rubbed his temples, clearly regretting every decision that had brought him to this moment. We followed him out in the early morning sun shining bright. Percy looked awkward in his armor, and I felt entirely unprepared to wave a sword around.
We then get to this place, something like a battlefield looking place. It looked like something out of the Iliad or the Odyssey... wait... Fuck... I forgot... That's because everything in this camp is. Just add the modern stuff or whatever.
The sky turned an unsettling shade of gray, casting a heavy atmosphere over the camp as we approached the training grounds. The battlefield sprawled before us, dotted with weathered tents that looked like relics from ancient Rome or Greece. The air buzzed with the clinking of swords being sharpened and the low hum of sparring matches.
Kids in armor moved with purpose—some practicing forms, others clashing shields or perfecting their strikes. And then there was us, awkwardly stepping onto the field, immediately drawing the attention of everyone. I could feel dozens of eyes zeroing in, scrutinizing every move we made, as if we were an exhibit on display. Most of the stares were aimed at Percy, which made sense. He was a literal lightning rod of rumors at this point.
Speaking of Percy—man, this guy could not have looked more uncomfortable if he tried. He fidgeted in his armor, clearly struggling to find a rhythm, his heavy shield drooping slightly in his grip and his sword looking more like an unwieldy burden than a weapon. He clanked and shifted, trying to make it all work, but every movement screamed "rookie."
"How do you even move in all this stuff?" Percy finally asked, exasperated.
I couldn't resist. "Raise hand. Swing sword. Win. Monke."
Grover let out an annoyed sigh. "Will you quit it, Thad?" He turned to Percy with a serious expression. "You get used to it... or you get killed."
I chimed in quickly, "Let's stick with the first option, yeah?" Percy nodded, though his nervous chuckle betrayed his unease. Grover, however, wasn't joking in the slightest.
As we moved deeper into the field, the murmurs began. Whispers floated through the air like leaves caught in a breeze.
"Is that him? The Lightning Thief?"
"Son of Poseidon?"
"He's the one who slayed the Minotaur."
Some glanced at me, their whispers carrying a different tone.
"Is that the ice guy?"
"No, I heard he used fire. Or both?"
"Show-off's friend, for sure."
Ah, the joys of being a spectacle. I ignored them, focusing instead on Percy, who was visibly trying to pretend he didn't hear a word of it.
We didn't get far before Percy's attention zeroed in on Annabeth. She was commanding a squad of kids wearing red plumes, her team, obviously. She had a sword in hand, using its tip to carve a strategy into the dirt with precision and confidence that emitted authority. The others around her, all with red plumes, listened intently. Made sense—daughter of Athena and all. Strategy probably flowed through her veins.
Just then, Chiron cantered up, commanding immediate attention. His voice boomed across the field, cutting through the chatter like a whip. "Heroes! Warriors! Fall in!"
The young warriors snapped to action, forming orderly ranks by team. One side donned red plumes—Annabeth's soldiers. On the other side, blue plumes. Percy's gaze lingered on Annabeth for a beat too long, clearly awed by her commanding presence.
I nudged him lightly. "You good, man? Don't get distracted by Athena's star daughter. Focus. Remember—raise hand, hit sword, win."
Percy blinked, snapping out of it. "Right. Focus."
It was going to be a long morning.
Chiron's voice rang out across the field, silencing the whispers and pulling everyone's attention toward him. "Today, we have some new blood in our midst. Percy? Thaddeus? Step forward."
Percy hesitated, clearly reluctant, before taking a step forward. I followed nonchalantly, my hands resting loosely at my sides. The eyes of the other campers bore into us, especially Percy. They looked fascinated like they were sizing up a rare artifact in a museum. Percy shot a tentative smile in Annabeth's direction. She responded with a stoic stare, unmoved. That was funny to me for some reason. Meanwhile, I had my own set of problems. The stares directed at me felt overwhelming like I'd wandered into a den of Lovecraftian monstrosities. A thousand unseen eyes scrutinized every breath I took. What else was I going to do? Sit around and wait for Zeus to smite me? I'm already here, might as well roll with it.
"This is Percy Jackson," Chiron announced, gesturing toward Percy, who gave an awkward nod. "And this is Thaddeus Bartholomew." I offered a polite smile and a single nod, keeping it cool. "They're going to need a team."
Luke Castellan, the kind of guy who looked like trouble but in a charming way, stepped forward. He had this confident energy about him like he'd been here long enough to own the place. His thin nose and mischievous grin told me everything I needed to know: this guy was a trickster through and through. I remembered him vaguely from my earlier camp tour—he was the one who showed me all the "unofficial" places.
Luke raised his bronze shield, its surface etched with intricate carvings of warriors mid-battle. "We'll take them," he declared to his blue-plumed team. "Give me two extra helmets."
Within seconds, two helmets were passed up to him. He handed one to Percy and the other to me. I took mine with a small nod. "Thanks," I muttered, placing it on my head. It fit snugly, not too bad. Ancient Greek warriors might've been onto something; this felt surprisingly... epic.
Luke turned to Percy, offering his hand. "I'm Luke. Son of Hermes."
Percy reached to shake his hand but paused to put on the helmet first—and then it happened.
BUZZZZZ!
A huge zap of electricity burst from the helmet sparks flying everywhere. Percy yelped, stumbling backward and dropping it.
I crossed my arms, unimpressed. "Saw that coming."
Luke spun back to his team, grinning. "I dunno... Maybe it's not so safe having a Lightning Thief on our team."
The crowd burst into laughter. Percy, cheeks flushing red, forced a tight smile. Luke bent down, retrieved the helmet, and removed a joy buzzer hidden inside. "Sorry," he said with a shrug, not looking sorry at all. "Just bustin' your balls. Couldn't resist. My old man's the God of Pranks... It's in the blood."
Percy chuckled nervously and took the now-debuzzered helmet. I just shook my head. At least it wasn't a bloodthirsty child of Ares pulling that stunt. Things could always be worse.
Chiron stepped forward, his commanding tone cutting through the laughter. "You all know the rules. First team to capture the enemy flag wins. Assume your last positions and remember..." He paused for a bit before continuing, "We fight to build each other up, not to tear each other down. Use your skills on the battlefield, but save your true anger for the dark forces."
I adjusted my helmet and glanced at Percy, who looked like he was one more prank away from walking off the field entirely. "Don't worry, Perce," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "If all else fails, just trip someone. Preferably on their own team."
As the Red soldiers disappeared into the forest, marching in sync like they were preparing for a real war, Percy stood there, visibly nervous. His eyes darted between Chiron and his sword like he was holding a live grenade.
"I thought this was a game," Percy muttered, his voice shaking a little. "I don't even know how to use this stuff."
Chiron, ever the calm teacher, tilted his head and replied, "You defeated the Minotaur."
Percy groaned. "Yeah, but I had that cool... flick-a-bic-sword thing."
Unable to help myself, I echoed Chiron, "You defeated the Minotaur."
The look Percy gave me was priceless—somewhere between betrayal and really, dude? He turned back to Chiron, clearly looking for any sign of mercy.
Chiron, however, wasn't budging. "That weapon would give you an unfair advantage over the Red team. Relax. Demigods all have some degree of inherited skill. Hercules was only a level three when I started training him."
I snickered. "Level three? Sounds kinda based, not gonna lie."
Percy's jaw dropped. "Wait, wait. You taught Hercules?"
Before Chiron could answer, Luke, who'd been casually leaning on his shield, chimed in with a grin. "Oh yeah. Chiron trained all the great Demigods. Hercules, Alexander the Great, Bruce Lee, Michael Jordan... turned them all into heroes."
I blinked, genuinely taken aback. "Hold up. Alexander the Great? THE Alexander? Like, 'conqueror of worlds' Alexander? This is wild, dawg. What else don't I know?"
Chiron smiled, the kind of knowing smile that said he'd seen and trained more heroes than anyone could count. "They turned themselves into heroes," he corrected, his tone confident yet humble. "I only trained them."
Percy looked like he was about to faint. "That doesn't help! I'm not ready for this!"
Chiron placed a reassuring hand on Percy's shoulder. "Just do what comes naturally, Percy. You'll be fine."
Unable to resist, I leaned in with a smirk. "Yeah, just like that time you tried talking to that girl in Homeroom, remember? Oh wait, bad example. That didn't end well. Yet, you survived that, right? You'll survive this too."
Luke raised his shield high, "Blue team... move out!"
The group began moving toward the forest. I turned to Percy one last time, clapping him on the shoulder. "See you later, man. Preferably not bruised, battered, or running for your life."
Before Percy could respond, I melted into the crowd of Blue soldiers, blending into the team as we marched into the trees, leaving Percy to process everything. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.
This was going to be very interesting.
It was chaos—an absolute melee. The battlefield was alive with the clash of Red and Blue teams, the racket of swords colliding with shields echoing across the campgrounds. Kids were going all out, dealing with what could only be described as enthusiastic violence. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Annabeth was a one-woman wrecking crew, carving her way through the Blue team with terrifying efficiency.
A few poor souls on our side tried to stand their ground, only to scatter when she switched tactics. Annabeth whipped out her bow, letting arrows fly faster than I thought humanly possible. They pinned kids to trees—not lethally, thankfully—through their clothes or armor. One unfortunate kid ended up stuck with arrows on either side of his head and one precariously between his legs. Annabeth got right in his face and snarled like a wolf on the hunt.
"Where is Percy Jackson?" she demanded, her tone as sharp as her blade.
I groaned, watching the whole thing unfold from behind a bush. "Well, Percy, looks like you're public enemy number one... again," I muttered under my breath.
Part of me wanted to keep lying low, sticking to my original plan: bait them, wear them down, and maybe trap a few in frozen prison cells—or, if I was feeling extra theatrical, surround them in walls of fire. Magic was technically allowed, after all, so why not play to my strengths? But then I thought about Annabeth systematically dismantling the entire Blue team to get to Percy. Yeah, he's screwed... I better go find him before she does.
Just as I turned to leave, four Red soldiers emerged from the trees, surrounding me. Fantastic. The first one didn't even hesitate, rushing forward with a war cry as his blade clanged against my shield. I countered with a fiery sweep, my blade igniting in flames that forced him to block with his shield. Two more came at me from behind.
I reacted on instinct. "Shield toss!" I hurled my shield at one like Captain America on a caffeine rush, knocking him square in the chest. "Wait, is that a reference? Forget it." The second guy lunged at me, but I caught him in the chest with a powerful kick, sending him flying backward.
The last two came at me in a synchronized attack, swinging wildly. I ducked under their strikes, quickly snatching up my shield from where it had fallen. Sword in hand, I squared off like a duelist from the 1700s. The fight turned into a rapid exchange of movements: block, counter, stab, evade, sweep. Our blades collided, sparking as I pushed them back. My strikes became sharper, more deliberate until I managed to catch one of them with a quick slice to the leg. "Sorry about that!" I called out as he hit the ground, clutching his leg.
The final Red soldier, now full of blind rage, charged me with all the force of a runaway bull. He slammed me into a tree, and I felt the impact reverberate through my ribs. "Ow... okay, that stung." Gritting my teeth, I retaliated by freezing his shoulder mid-swing, encasing his arm in a layer of glistening ice. He let out a blood-curdling scream as I stepped in close and delivered a precise chop to his neck. "Sleep tight." He crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Breathing heavily, I straightened up and wiped some dirt off my armor. Then I suddenly remembered why I was rushing: Percy. Crap, Annabeth's probably got him cornered by now. I sprinted off into the fray, hoping I wasn't too late to save my guy from imminent doom.
I pushed through the brush, stepping into a clearing that overlooked a shallow stream. It didn't take long to spot the source. Annabeth stood tall, her blade gleaming in the sunlight as she spoke, "My mother is the Goddess of Wisdom and Battle Strategy. You know what that means? I will never lose."
Okay, this was bad. Or... interesting. Let's go with something interesting. From my position behind a tree, I watched as Percy, already battered and bruised, faced down a group of Red soldiers. They didn't waste any time; the Red team swarmed him like a pack of wolves.
To his credit, Percy managed to deflect several blows, but the numbers were against him. A shield blocked one strike, but another got past his guard, then another. He staggered under the onslaught, taking hit after hit, until finally, he dropped to his knees. Bloodied, exhausted, and looking like he'd gone twelve rounds with a prizefighter, Percy was at his limit.
Annabeth stepped forward, her movements calculated and precise, looking down at Percy like a queen addressing a fallen opponent.
"Alright, Thaddeus, what's the play here?" I muttered to myself, watching the scene unfold. "Step in? Hold back? Maybe he's got something up his sleeve. I mean, this is his dad's domain, right? Right..." But I wasn't entirely sure if I believed that. Still, part of me wanted to see if Percy had it in him to stand up on his own. Besides, if it got really bad, I'd spring into action.
"You actually claim to be the son of Poseidon and the slayer of the Minotaur?" Annabeth taunted, her tone sharp as a dagger. "Once I'm done, I'll teach your friend a lesson next."
Oh, great. Now she's coming for me too. Lovely.
The other Red soldiers took a step back, clearing the area for Annabeth to handle Percy one-on-one. She raised her sword, the sunlight glinting off its edge.
"Stand up," she ordered. "Fight."
I leaned forward, muttering under my breath, "C'mon, Percy. Get up. Stand. Show her what you're made of."
And to my surprise—and satisfaction—he did. Slowly, painfully, Percy rose to his feet, his legs shaking but steady.
"Yes! That's it! Give her a good fight, Perce!" I whispered, half to myself, half as encouragement he couldn't even hear.
Annabeth smirked, extending her sword with practiced ease. "Let's see what you're really made of."
Their eyes met across the stream, locking in a silent exchange of mutual determination. Or maybe something deeper. Was there... chemistry? No, that's just me projecting. Focus, Thad.
The battle began. Percy lunged forward, but Annabeth was quicker, slashing his arm in retaliation. Each time Percy tried to strike, Annabeth countered with precision, her blade an extension of her will. Percy was in over his head, and it showed. He was outmatched by her skill and experience, and the longer the fight dragged on, the clearer it became.
Around the battlefield, Red and Blue soldiers began to gather, drawn to the duel like moths to a flame. Both sides formed a loose semicircle along the banks of the creek, watching intently. Even the kids who'd been trading blows moments before had paused to see the showdown.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luke, Grover, and Chiron approaching, their expressions were of concern. I finally stepped out from the cover of the trees, falling in beside them.
"I see Percy's making friends the hard way," I said, my tone light despite the clear imbalance in the fight.
Grover shot me a worried glance. "He's not ready for this!"
Luke, arms crossed, smirked. "Trial by fire. Or, in this case, a trial by Athena. He'll learn quickly."
Chiron didn't say anything, just watched with the quiet patience of someone who'd seen this a hundred times before. Meanwhile, Percy stumbled again, barely keeping his footing as Annabeth pressed the attack.
"You think he's got a chance?" I asked, mostly to Chiron.
The centaur turned his gaze toward me, calm as ever. "Every hero starts somewhere, Thaddeus."
"Fair enough," I replied, though I couldn't help but mutter, "Still... this is brutal."
Annabeth didn't let up, and as Percy fought to keep up, I found myself inching closer to the action, ready to jump in if things got too dicey. "C'mon, Percy," I murmured, fists clenched. "Show her something... anything."
Grover leaned closer to Chiron, whispering anxiously, "Should we stop it now?"
Chiron shook his head calmly. "Not yet."
I turned to Chiron, arching a brow. "She's testing him, isn't she?"
Chiron didn't reply directly but gave me one of those knowing smiles that screamed, just watch.
Meanwhile, Annabeth was relentless. Her blade found Percy again and again, each strike leaving him more battered than the last. His arms and legs bore deep cuts, and a nasty wound above his eye was trickling blood. He was barely holding onto his sword, and I could see his legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion. Annabeth, for all her fierceness, was starting to look... sympathetic. Like even she wasn't enjoying this anymore.
Instinct kicked in—I stepped forward to intervene, but Grover grabbed my arm, shaking his head. "No. Let him figure it out."
Reluctantly, I stayed back, watching as Percy swung weakly at Annabeth. His blows were slow and clumsy now, the strength behind them barely a whisper of what they'd been at the start. Annabeth easily sidestepped him, raising her sword for the final blow.
"Surrender," she said firmly, almost gently.
Percy didn't answer. He just shook his head, a determined one despite his battered state.
Annabeth's blade moved in a blur, slashing toward him. The strike sent Percy's helmet flying off, skidding across the dirt to the edge of the creek. Percy staggered, defenseless, and Annabeth flipped her sword in the air, catching it by the pommel. With a swing, she cracked the hilt against the side of Percy's head.
He went down hard, collapsing near the shallow water. His bloodied face was half-buried in the dirt, his body motionless. The Red team erupted into cheers, raising their swords and chanting: "ATHENA! ATHENA! ATHENA!"
Annabeth was surrounded by her teammates, who showered her with congratulations, but she wasn't smiling. Her eyes stayed on Percy, an unreadable expression crossing her face. Regret, maybe? Guilt? Who knows?
Percy, meanwhile, was dragging himself across the ground, using the last shreds of his strength to crawl toward the creek. Every movement looked painful, his hands trembling as he reached out.
I clenched my fists, my voice breaking through the cheers. "C'mon, Percy! Touch the water! Just do it!"
And then, it happened. Percy's fingers brushed the surface of the creek, and the transformation was immediate. The water surged toward him, snaking up his arms like living tendrils. It coated his entire body in a shimmering, liquid layer, and before my eyes, every cut, bruise, and wound healed. His breathing steadied, his muscles tightened, and he slowly pushed himself to his feet.
"YES!" I shouted, throwing a fist in the air. "Son of Poseidon, baby! How ya' like that?"
Every head turned to Percy as water exploded into the air behind him, forming a massive, glistening trident that loomed over the creek. Annabeth spun around, her eyes widening in shock. Percy stood there, dripping wet, with a renewed strength in his stance that wasn't there before. He looked like a whole new person—no, a whole new warrior.
The Red team didn't waste any time; six of them charged at him simultaneously. Percy didn't hesitate. Moving with newfound confidence, he fought like he'd been training for years. Every movement was precise, every blow perfectly timed. Within moments, the six soldiers were on the ground, groaning in defeat.
Then came Annabeth. She charged him head-on, her sword flashing as she launched into an intense duel. The clash of their blades echoed across the battlefield, and while she was fast and skilled, Percy wasn't the same exhausted kid she'd been fighting earlier. He matched her blow for blow, his movements fluid and instinctive.
Finally, Percy saw his opening. He knocked the sword from Annabeth's hand with a well-timed strike, sending it flying into the dirt. She stumbled backward and fell to the ground, staring up at him. Percy stood over her, his blade pointed at her chest.
"You drool when you're impressed. Wipe your mouth," he said with a small smirk, the confidence in his voice undeniable.
Annabeth blinked, wiping her mouth out of reflex before realizing what he'd said. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and then... Annabeth smiled. Not a mocking smile, but one of genuine respect.
Percy raised his sword high in the air, shouting, "POSEIDON!"
The crowd went wild. The chants of "ATHENA!" quickly turned into "POSEIDON! PERCY! PERCY!" as kids from both teams celebrated the incredible comeback.
Grover and I ran up to Percy, practically tackling him with excitement. "You did it!" Grover exclaimed.
I grinned, slapping him on the shoulder. "So unfair you get bonus buffs. I want a water power-up too!"
Percy laughed, his exhaustion starting to show again. "You look like you went through hell too," he said, motioning to my dirt-streaked face and a tear in my sleeve.
I shrugged. "Handled myself just fine, thank you very much. But damn, man, you were epic."
Chiron stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the celebration unfold with a faint smile. When Percy caught his eye, he gave a small, approving nod. Whatever doubts Percy might've had before, they were gone now. This was a new Percy. And honestly? I was here for it.