THADDEUS POV
We decided to go with a different approach—blending in. Because nothing is better than "we totally belong here and are not about to cause utter chaos" like walking in like we own the place.
And so, Operation Look Like You Belong™ commenced.
I swapped out my usual attire for something... classier. A tailored black vest over a dark emerald button-up, sleeves rolled up just enough to keep things practical. A sleek black tie, because I might as well commit to the bit, and a long charcoal coat that gave off a "mysterious and possibly dangerous" vibe. My hair was still in its usual messy state, but I smoothed it back enough to at least appear presentable. Finished off with a pair of polished dress shoes that made me feel slightly out of place.
Daphne, on the other hand, looked straight out of some high-society gala. She went with an elegant black evening dress—form-fitting but with enough room to move in case things went south, which, knowing my luck, they absolutely would. The dress had silver accents that shimmered under the casino lights, matching the delicate silver chains she wore around her wrists. Her usual black-and-white umbrella was now part of the ensemble, making her look like some kind of aristocratic femme fatale.
And Astoria?
The little gremlin was the emergency distraction.
I still wasn't entirely sure how Daphne had convinced her to do it or why she even agreed. I mean, these two were just supposed to be "lost rich kids" from the UK, right? No reason to be this good at scheming. But hey, I wasn't about to complain. If it worked, it worked.
Astoria was dressed in a ridiculously oversized stitch hoodie, looking about as out of place as a gremlin in a palace. Her job? Run around, pretend to be lost, spill a drink on the wrong person, maybe cause a minor scene—just enough to pull attention away while me and Daphne worked on the real job.
As I adjusted my cuffs, I glanced over at Daphne. "So, just to clarify—your little sister causing absolute chaos is part of the plan?"
Daphne smirked. "You're rather underestimating her talent for mischief."
"Noted."
With a final glance at each other, we stepped out, ready to pull off whatever ridiculous plan we had just committed to.
I had a feeling this was going to go brilliantly...
...or spectacularly wrong.
"You ready, Miss?" I asked, barely registering the words leaving my mouth.
It took me a second—too long, if I'm being honest—to realize I'd been staring. Not in the oh-wow-you-look-nice way, but in the brain-malfunctions-and-forgets-to-process-basic-thoughts way.
And let's just say there were... distractions. Distractions I would never—and I mean never—speak of again. Not now. Not ever. Not in front of Darren, not in front of Percy, and definitely not in front of Annabeth, because she'd never let me live it down.
I cleared my throat, forcing my brain to reboot back into functioning. Stay focused, Bartholomew. You have a job to do, and this is not the time for your teenage instincts to start acting up.
To salvage my dignity, I immediately switched gears and went full gentleman mode.
Offering my arm, I gave Daphne a small bow. "Shall we?"
She raised a single brow at my theatrics but placed her hand on my arm nonetheless. "Such marvellous manners, where on earth were they when we first met, I wonder?"
"Oh, they come and go. A rare occurrence, really. Consider yourself lucky."
With that, we made our way toward the ballroom.
The room itself was extravagant, even by Vegas standards. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting golden reflections across the marbled floor. The air smelled of expensive perfume, fine liquor, and something else—something subtle but undeniably off.
Music hummed from a live orchestra, a melody designed to lull you into a dreamlike state.
And the guests? All of them are perfect. Too perfect. Their laughter was too light, their smiles too practiced. They waltzed around in tailored suits and designer dresses, each movement flowing too smoothly. Like actors who had long forgotten they were playing a role.
Yeah, I'm gonna keep saying it... This place reeked of something wrong.
I leaned closer to Daphne, lowering my voice. "Let's not get too comfortable. Something tells me this isn't just some high-end party for the ultra-rich and questionably bored."
"Agreed."
We stepped further in, blending into the scene. The game was on.
"I say we don't split up. Already seen what that leads to," I told her, keeping my voice low.
Daphne crossed her arms, arching a brow. "So then how do I find them?"
I took a moment to think, scanning the ballroom like a detective solving a case that was equal parts ridiculous and life-threatening.
"Alright, let's break it down. Percy? Probably sulking somewhere with a drink in his hand, looking like he wants to be anywhere else but here. The guy's got the shy, brooding exterior down to an art."
Daphne nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds easy enough."
"Annabeth?" I continued. "Not the girly type. If she's not side-eyeing everyone and overanalyzing the architecture, she's probably in the art gallery—or wherever people who are too smart for their own good go to think at a ball."
"Also doable."
"Grover..." I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Just find the guy surrounded by a bunch of girls. Probably somewhere with way too much food or live music that makes you wonder if a bunch of goats is secretly running this place."
Daphne just stared at me for that last part. "That seems... doable," she said slowly, like she wasn't sure if I was messing with her or not.
"Yeah, just—don't get too distracted. And don't eat anything they give you," I warned, my voice sharper now.
Daphne waved me off. "Yes, you've already mentioned that bit. It's not exactly rocket science, is it?
From beside her, Astoria grinned like a little menace. "Unless it's chocolate. Then it's probably fine."
I pointed at her. "That? That is how they get you."
We made our way onto the dance floor, where the music played a little too perfectly, the kind of rhythm that made you wonder if it was designed to lull people into staying there forever. The lighting was dim but warm, casting soft golden hues over the elegantly dressed crowd that twirled and swayed in perfect harmony. It felt unreal, like something out of a dream.
Astoria had already slipped away, likely executing whatever ridiculous distraction plan she and Daphne had cooked up. Meanwhile, I found myself in the much less comfortable position of standing in front of Daphne, who had a look in her eye that was far too amused for my liking.
"You "do" know how to dance, don't you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
I scratched the back of my neck, glancing at the couples around us. "Define 'know'..."
Daphne let out an exasperated sigh, but her smirk betrayed her amusement. "Great. You're hopeless. Well, you are lucky that you have me, then."
Before I could argue, she grabbed my hand, pulling me onto the floor with a confidence I absolutely did not have. I stiffened immediately.
"Relax," she whispered, guiding my hand to her waist and placing her own on my shoulder. "Just follow my lead."
Easier said than done. My steps were... Well, let's just say if there was a god of dance, they were shaking their heads in disappointment. Every time I tried to move, I either stepped on her foot, lost balance, or made it painfully obvious that rhythm was not one of my blessings.
Daphne raised a brow as she dodged another misstep. "Thaddeus, do enlighten me—are you trying to make this unnecessarily complicated, or does it simply come naturally to you?"
"Both," I grumbled. "It's a gift, really."
She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Right then, let's keep this simple, shall we? So stop overthinking it. Just feel the music."
I let out a breath and tried again. This time, I focused less on my feet and more on her movements. Daphne was graceful, light on her feet, and eerily effortless, like she'd done this a million times before. It took a moment, but eventually, I began to match her rhythm. It wasn't perfect, but at least I wasn't actively ruining the dance anymore.
"Better," she murmured, nodding approvingly. "Now, about whatever it is you and your friends are after—"
I sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Daph, if I could tell you, I would."
"But you could tell me. You're simply choosing not to." she countered smoothly, twirling effortlessly as I barely managed to keep up.
"It's not that simple," I said, dodging the question like I had dodged the last three times she tried to get it out of me. "I don't want to drag anyone else into this mess."
Daphne narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly unimpressed. You do realize we're already involved, don't you? Or did we simply imagine the bit where you went and turned some poor chap's hand into an ice block and had us all bolting for our lives?"
I sighed again, heavier this time. "Look, it's complicated."
"Complicated in what way, precisely?"
"Complicated in the 'I-don't-want-you-to-get-turned-into-a-statue-or-get-eaten-by-a-monster' way," I said.
She gave me a look, her lips curving into a sly smirk. "And what, pray tell, makes you assume I haven't already dealt with my fair share of monsters?"
That made me pause, my grip on her waist tightening slightly as I processed her words. But before I could ask what she meant, Daphne took advantage of my momentary distraction and spun me instead, throwing me completely off balance.
I stumbled, barely catching myself before she chuckled and caught my arm, steadying me with ease.
"You're really rather dreadful at this, you know." she teased.
I sighed dramatically. "I told you this was a bad idea."
"And yet, here you are, still dancing," she shot back, smirking.
Touché.
For a moment, the conversation was forgotten, replaced by the rhythm of the music and the warmth of her hand in mine. The tension that had weighed down on my shoulders for the past few weeks faded just slightly, allowing me to breathe—just for a little while.
But deep down, I knew this moment of peace wouldn't last. Nothing ever did.
As Daphne effortlessly guided me through the dance, her silver-blue eyes flickered around the ballroom, scanning the room like she was piecing together some grand puzzle. Then, just as I was starting to feel slightly confident in my dancing skills (which was a huge overstatement), she dropped the question.
"Shouldn't you be with your parents or something?" she asked, her tone carrying that distinct British elegance, like she was casually inquiring about the weather rather than dropping a question that hit just a little too close to home. "You've been carrying on rather like someone who's had an exceptionally trying time of late."
I blinked. That was... not the question I was expecting.
And, of course, my immediate reaction was to dodge it like I dodged any remotely emotional conversation—with humor and excessive rambling.
"Ah, well, you see," I started, spinning her slightly, "it's a very complicated matter. But if I had to sum it up, let's just say my life is currently a chaotic mix of near-death experiences, highly questionable decision-making, and the realization that I should really consider switching schools. You know, normal teenage problems."
Daphne raised a perfectly shaped brow. "Switching schools, are we?"
"Yeah," I sighed dramatically. "I mean, don't get me wrong, my current one's great—if you're into constant life-threatening situations, teachers, weird nonsense, and, oh yeah, accidentally getting framed for stealing something that you never even took. You know, the usual."
Daphne blinked, her expression unreadable for a moment before she simply said, "Americans."
I actually tripped.
"Excuse me?!" I shot her an incredulous look, nearly stepping on her foot.
She just smirked, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to say, " I'm superior and I know it. "Only an American could discuss life-threatening situations as though they're merely deciding which coffee to order."
"Hey, I'll let you know that sarcasm is a coping mechanism," I defended. "Besides, I wouldn't expect someone from a tea country to understand the rich, nuanced art of surviving absolute insanity."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Yes, because we Brits are entirely devoid of our own brand of insanity, naturally."
"Well, if your definition of 'insanity' is debating whether it's socially acceptable to put milk before or after the tea, then yeah, totally."
She gasped, actually gasped, and I knew—I knew—I had just unlocked a new level of war.
"That is absolute blasphemy," she declared, the offense in her voice so real I almost laughed. "Milk before the tea? What sort of barbarian do you take me for?"
"Oh no, my bad," I said, smirking. "You're totally the type to judge someone based on how they pronounce 'scone'."
"It's a rather telling trait, isn't it?" she said matter-of-factly.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Y'know, for someone who just called me insane, you sure have some very strong opinions about tea and pastries."
She scoffed. "And for someone who insists his life is perpetually in peril, you don't exactly seem to treat it with the gravity it warrants, do you?"
I shrugged. "Eh, if I panicked about every little thing that could kill me, I'd never get anything done."
Daphne gave me a look, one that was both amused and slightly intrigued, like she was trying to figure out if I was genuinely that carefree or if it was all just an act.
Honestly? Even I wasn't sure.
Daphne tilted her head slightly, her silver-blue eyes scanning me. "So... are you genuinely considering this school switch of yours, or was that just another bout of your usual rambling nonsense?"
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "I dunno. Maybe. Probably. The idea's been floating around in my head for a while."
"Then why haven't you made up your mind yet?" she pressed, her tone calm but probing. "You don't strike me as the sort to dither over decisions."
I let out a dry chuckle, but there wasn't much humor in it. "Yeah, well, it's not that simple. You ever get so used to chaos that when things do start to make sense, it feels... wrong?"
She didn't answer immediately, which I took as my cue to keep going.
"I've been hopping from school to school for as long as I can remember. Not by choice, but because I had to. I'd settle in, start getting used to a place, and then—bam—something happens, and suddenly I'm packing my bags again." I shrugged. "At some point, you stop trying to belong. Stop thinking of anything as permanent. You just go with it, deal with the next thing, and move on."
Daphne studied me for a moment, something unreadable flickering across her face. "That sounds positively exhausting."
I huffed a small laugh. "You have no idea."
There was a pause between us, the music and chatter of the ballroom fading into the background.
"But this time, it's rather different, isn't it?" she said softly.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah... It is."
For the first time, this wasn't about getting kicked out or running from something. This wasn't just another forced relocation or another temporary pit stop before the next inevitable goodbye.
This was me making a choice.
And that? That was terrifying.
"New place, new rules, new people. And not just any people," I added, looking at her meaningfully. "This would be a very different environment from what I'm used to."
"And that's what's giving you pause, is it?"
I hesitated, then admitted, "Because what if I did say yes? What if I tried to belong somewhere again? What if, for once, I wasn't just passing through?"
And what if—just like every other time—I ended up having to leave anyway?
For a brief second, my brain short-circuited.
Daphne had leaned her head against my shoulder, her movements so effortless, so natural, that I almost missed it. Almost.
I didn't stiffen. I didn't pull away. I just... let it happen. Maybe it was part of the act, part of keeping up appearances. Maybe she was just tired. Or maybe—just maybe—it didn't mean anything.
And I wasn't about to overthink it.
We'd just met. We barely knew each other. When this whole mess was over, she'd go back to her world, and I'd go back to mine. Simple.
So I did what I did best—played it cool.
"Y'know, I don't usually dance with girls who threaten my life within five minutes of meeting me," I said, my voice light, teasing.
Daphne huffed a soft laugh against my shoulder. "Oh? And here I was under the impression you rather relished a touch of danger."
I smirked. "Danger? Sure. But I prefer mine in the form of monsters and impending death, not mysterious British girls with sharp tongues and sharper eyes."
She lifted her head just enough to look at me. "Mysterious, am I?"
"Very," I admitted, spinning her just slightly before pulling her back into the rhythm of the dance. "One second you're acting all high-class and untouchable, the next you're sneaking around a casino with me like some kind of—what's the word?—troublemaker."
She gave me a knowing look. "Says the boy who went and turned some poor chap's hand into an ice block and had me scurrying into hiding within minutes of our first proper conversation."
I grinned. "Touché."
For a moment, the conversation faded, and we just moved. The ballroom spun around us, the golden glow of chandeliers casting soft reflections against the polished floor. The music swelled, elegant and timeless, and for just a second—just one—it didn't feel like we were in the middle of some insane heist against time and reality.
It just felt... nice.
But I couldn't let myself forget what this was.
"Once this is over," I said after a beat, my voice quieter now, "we'll be on our separate ways."
Daphne didn't respond immediately. When she finally did, her tone was unreadable. "Indeed. I suppose we shall."
No hesitation. No protest. Just a simple fact.
That was good. That was right.
Then why did it feel like something in my chest tightened just a little?
---
As the night stretched on, Daphne and I found ourselves in the gallery, waiting. Watching. Hoping one of my friends would show up sooner rather than later.
We sat in front of a painting I couldn't quite put into words—one of those Victorian-era masterpieces with too many little details to catch in just one glance. It was the kind of thing you had to really look at to get the full picture, and for some reason, it felt... fitting.
Astoria, having finally worn herself out, was curled up in one of the chairs next to us, her little chest rising and falling in steady breaths. She looked peaceful. Not exactly a feeling I could say I shared at the moment.
Still, despite the impending doom of being trapped in this casino for eternity, Daphne and I just... talked.
And laughed.
We joked about the ridiculousness of this whole situation, about the absolute scam that was their "complimentary" hotel service, about how we were sitting there in fancy clothes like some high-class runaways, all while trying not to get brainwashed into permanent Lotus Eater membership. It was weirdly easy to talk to her, like we'd been doing this for ages instead of just a few hours.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, I had shrugged off my blazer, letting it rest on the chair beside me. The thing was stiff, uncomfortable—clearly not made with the intent of actually wearing it for longer than a photoshoot.
Daphne smirked when she noticed. "What, not an admirer of the finer things in life?"
"If bad tailoring counts as 'fine,' then sure." I leaned back, stretching out my arms. "Next time, I'm dressing myself."
She chuckled, shaking her head, and for a brief moment, the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence.
That's when I found myself thinking out loud.
"You ever wonder if your life is tied to something?" I asked, staring at the painting. "Like... if it's already been decided? Written out before you even get the chance to make a choice?"
Daphne hummed, tilting her head slightly as if considering the weight of the question. When she finally spoke, her words were... good. Like, really good. The kind of answer that could rival my usual overthinking sessions.
"Perhaps," she said, her voice calm but thoughtful. "I rather think life hands us fragments of a story, but it doesn't dictate how we assemble them. Some things may be set in stone—fate, destiny, call it what you will—but what about the choices we make along the way? Those are entirely our own. No one else's."
I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "That sounded a little too well-put. Are you secretly some philosopher in your spare time?"
She smirked. "No, merely someone who's devoted rather too much time to pondering it."
"Huh. Guess that makes two of us."
For a while, we just sat there, letting the weight of those words settle. Letting them mean something.
And for the first time since stepping into this cursed casino, I felt a little less lost.
Then, out of nowhere, I found myself staring.
Like, really staring.
To her eyes, her expression—the way the dim golden lighting of the gallery cast soft shadows over her features. The way her silver-blue eyes reflected it, almost glowing in the low light. The slight part of her lips, like she had something to say but decided against it.
And then, she caught me.
Daphne's gaze met mine, and instead of looking away, she held it. Matched it. Like she was studying me just as much as I was studying her. The music in the background—the soft, classical tune playing from unseen speakers—was the only thing that filled the silence between us.
It was weird, so weird, because I had never noticed before just how tall she was compared to me. Or how intense her stare could be. Or the fact that neither of us was looking away.
Was something on my face? No. No, definitely not.
But something was happening.
Something unspoken.
We leaned in—slowly at first, like testing the waters of something neither of us had planned for. I could feel the faint warmth of her breath against my lips, the space between us thinning into nothing. It was like gravity had shifted, pulling us toward each other, and neither of us was fighting it.
I wasn't thinking. Not about the casino, not about my missing friends, not about how absolutely insane this situation was. I wasn't overanalyzing. I wasn't questioning.
Maybe it was the moment. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the damn Lotus magic messing with my head.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Our lips met—soft, slow, tentative at first, like we were both testing if this was real. If this was allowed. Her hand, delicate yet firm, rested against my cheek, while mine found the small of her back, pulling her in just slightly, just enough to feel the warmth of her against me.
And for a brief, fleeting moment... everything else faded away.
No quests. No curses. No looming danger.
Just this.
Just her.
Just us.
Then, just like that, I snapped out of it and pulled away.
"I'm... sorry..." The words tumbled out before I could even think about them.
But she didn't seem bothered. Didn't look embarrassed or awkward or anything that would normally come after a kiss like that. Instead, she just smirked, like she had already anticipated my reaction.
Like she knew.
And weirdly enough, it didn't feel awkward. Not forced. Not like some dumb teenage mistake. It felt... right. Natural, even. But at the same time, I knew me. I wasn't the type to let things happen so casually. I wasn't the kind of guy to just enjoy something without questioning it to death.
And yet...
It felt nice.
Not weird. Not traumatizing. Not something that would haunt me later with regret.
"You're so frightfully accustomed to it, aren't you?" She teased, her tone light, playful, like she knew exactly what she was doing.
I scoffed. "That was my first, by the way," I admitted, leaning back into the chair like it wasn't a big deal. "But I don't really care about firsts and all that."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah, I mean... It's not like I kept a checklist or something." I shrugged.
She hummed, tilting her head slightly as if studying me. "Hmm. Well, for a first attempt, I'd say you did tolerably well."
"Alright?" I repeated, pretending to be offended. "That's it? No applause?"
Daphne chuckled. "Would you like a standing ovation?"
"I wouldn't mind." I smirked.
She rolled her eyes but moved closer, resting an arm on the back of my chair, her body just barely leaning into mine. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you're still here."
"I suppose I am." She smiled—really smiled, and I had to fight the urge to stare again.
We went back to our usual banter, poking fun at each other like we hadn't just made out. But something was different. She was different. More playful. More teasing. More... bold.
Flirtatious in a way that wasn't over-the-top, but deliberate.
She'd brush my arm when she talked, lean in just a little too close when she made a snarky remark. Every now and then, she'd tilt her head, looking at me like she was waiting—but for what, I wasn't sure.
And me?
I just sat there, playing it cool, acting like I wasn't definitely affected by any of it.
Because damn.
Daphne Greengrass was going to be dangerous for my sanity.
Then she hit me with the obvious.
"Aren't you the least bit concerned that we're proceeding at such a pace?"
Oh, absolutely. Every fiber of my being was screaming that this was not normal, that I should be overthinking every little detail, breaking it down like a conspiracy theorist with a red string board.
But instead, I shrugged. "Super. But I ain't showing it."
Daphne smirked. "Ah, so you're one of those sorts, then."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what type is that?"
"The sort who puts on a frightfully cool and unbothered front, but deep down, you're likely having a proper meltdown over it, aren't you?"
"Wow." I blinked. "I feel so seen right now."
She laughed, and for some reason, it just hit differently.
Then she added, "You know, if my father were to see us, he'd have an absolute fit. You'd be in rather a lot of trouble, I imagine."
"Oh yeah?" I grinned. "My dad would have a field day with this."
We just sat there for a second, letting that thought settle, before we both cracked up.
Because, really, imagine that scene.
Two dads. One probably some intimidating, old-money aristocrat. The other? A man who raised me, which should say everything. That hypothetical conversation alone would be the crossover event of the century.
And for a moment, we were just two teenagers laughing at the absurdity of it all.
The moment my eyes drifted toward the entrance of the gallery, I knew something was up. Daphne caught on, too. She followed my gaze, then nudged me lightly. "You seein' what I'm seein'?"
I squinted. Yep. Percy and Annabeth. Walking in. Hand in hand.
Well, that escalated quickly.
"Funny how they were at each other's throats just a few weeks ago," I muttered with a smirk.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So this is rather new to you, is it?"
"Very." I exhaled, shaking my head before turning to her. "Wake your sister up. It's go time. If those two are here, Grover must be nearby too."
She nodded, moving to rouse Astoria, while I strode toward my very stylishly overdressed friends.
And holy hell—they were decked out.
Percy—my guy—the same dude who fought a minotaur in a hoodie and busted sneakers, was now looking sharp in a sleek black tux. Not gonna lie; dude was dripping. Meanwhile, Annabeth? A ballroom gown that made her look like she owned this place. Way too elegant for someone who once tackled me over a simple argument.
But then came the real kicker.
Instead of hunting for an escape or looking remotely concerned about our very obvious hostage situation, these two geniuses decided that the best course of action was... sucking face in a dark corner.
I sighed.
Then, with zero hesitation, I marched up to them and bonked them both on the head.
"Ow—"
"What the hell, Thad?!"
I folded my arms. "Oh, I'm the problem? You two are over here making out like some old married couple when we are literally trapped in a magic casino that makes people forget reality itself. Forgive me for not prioritizing your 'Romeo and Juliet' moment."
They blinked at me.
Annabeth, instead of scowling or calling me an idiot, just smiled dreamily.
Percy? Also smiling. Like a blissful, carefree, totally out-of-character idiot.
That's when it hit me.
Oh. Shit.
They were still under the Lotus effect.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, inhaling sharply through my teeth. Okay. Breathe. They're under the Lotus effect. They're high on magical brain fog. Gotta deal with this carefully.
"Alright, lovebirds," I said, clapping my hands together. "Hate to break up the romance happening here, but we need to leave. Now."
Percy frowned. "Leave? Why? We just got here."
"Percy, my guy," I said, leveling him with a stare. "We've been here for five days."
Annabeth let out a light chuckle. "Thaddeus, don't be ridiculous. We've only been here a few hours. Maybe a day at most."
I felt my eyes twitch. Oh, this is gonna be a pain in the ass.
"Alright, listen up, goldfish for brains—if the wording from Lotus Land is right, and if my very reliable mythological instincts are correct, then we're in a place straight out of Odysseus' greatest mistakes. The Lotus Eaters? Ring a bell? Place where people lose all sense of time and end up trapped forever? That sound familiar to either of you?"
Annabeth blinked, her brows knitting together. There it was—the gears in her brain starting to turn. Percy, on the other hand, looked like I'd just spoken to him in Ancient Sumerian.
"But Thad," Percy countered, "you left us."
Oh, for fuck's sake—
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "I had to split up, fishboy. We agreed on it! And excuse me for actually keeping track of reality while you two were busy playing out some cheesy romance subplot in the middle of a cursed casino!"
Percy narrowed his eyes at me. "You're being dramatic."
"Me?! Dramatic?! Bro, I will slap the reality back into you."
Annabeth crossed her arms. "You're overreacting."
"Am I?! Alright, let's test that theory—" I turned and pointed at a nearby gambler, a guy who looked barely older than us. "Hey, buddy, how long have you been here?"
The guy didn't even look up from his slot machine. "Not long. Just a few hours."
"Right. And what year is it, chief?"
He snorted. "Duh. It's 1972."
Percy and Annabeth froze.
I looked back at them, raising a single eyebrow. "Go ahead. Tell me again how I'm overreacting."
I didn't even hesitate. My hand moved faster than my brain could process—SMACK.
Percy stumbled back, eyes wide as he clutched his cheek. "What the hell, man?!"
"You feel that?" I asked, shaking out my hand like I didn't just slap a demigod with Olympian-tier durability. "Good. Means you're still alive. Now focus, Jackson."
Annabeth gasped. "Thaddeus, you can't just hit him!"
"Uh, yeah, I can—and I will—if it means slapping the dumb out of you two."
Percy shook his head, still dazed. "You're insane."
"Insane? I'm insane?! You two have been living in a casino simulation trap for nearly a week, sucking down magic lotus Kool-Aid while I've been running around playing detective, and I'M the crazy one?!"
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Thaddeus, that's not how this works—"
"OH, do enlighten me, O Wise One," I interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because clearly you—being the daughter of Athena—somehow missed that this is a mythological tourist trap designed to keep people inside forever."
"You're exaggerating," Annabeth huffed.
"Oh, am I? Let's try another person!" I motioned toward the guy I'd just interrogated, who was still glued to the slot machine like his soul depended on it. "Hey, buddy, what's your name?"
The man barely glanced at me. "Tommy."
"And how long have you been here, Tommy?"
"Couple hours."
"And what year is it?"
"1972."
Percy visibly paled. Annabeth stiffened.
"Yep," I said, nodding smugly. "Y'all are so lucky I'm the paranoid one, otherwise you'd be ringing in the year 2099 before you even realized you missed breakfast."
Percy ran a hand through his hair, finally grasping the situation. "We've been here five days!?"
"Yes, you moron."
Annabeth muttered something under her breath, probably cursing me out in Ancient Greek, before straightening up. "Okay. We need to get out of here. Now."
"Oh, now you believe me?" I scoffed. "Took a guy from the disco era to convince you?"
Annabeth shot me a glare. "Thaddeus."
I raised my hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. No more slapping, no more gloating. Let's grab Grover and bounce before we all end up in a history book."
I motioned toward Daphne and her sister, keeping my voice steady but quick. "Alright, before we start sprinting for the exit like lunatics, introductions. This is Daphne and Astoria—"
"Greengrass," Daphne interjected smoothly, giving Percy and Annabeth a polite nod. "And you must be the friends Thaddeus has been so keen on finding?"
"Uh... yeah?" Percy said, still rubbing the spot where I slapped him. He shot me a glare before offering his hand. "Percy Jackson."
"Annabeth Chase," Annabeth said, her tone a mix of curiosity and scrutiny as she looked between me and Daphne.
Daphne shook both their hands with that same calm, almost aristocratic grace she always carried. Meanwhile, Astoria, still peeking out from behind her sister, mumbled a quiet, "Hi."
I crossed my arms and got straight to the point. "Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way—Percy, tell me you've seen the damn pearl."
He frowned, thinking for a second. "I... think so. But I wasn't exactly paying attention to that while being brainwashed into thinking this place was paradise, so forgive me if the details are fuzzy."
Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. "Where exactly do you think you saw it?"
Percy glanced around the casino as if retracing his steps. "I remember seeing this weird display case in one of the VIP sections. It had a bunch of fancy artifacts and stuff, but one of them looked like what we're looking for. Green, glowing, probably important."
"That's literally the description of every cursed object in existence," I deadpanned.
"But it could be the pearl," Annabeth reasoned.
"Or it could be a magical rock that turns us into frogs," I countered.
"Well, we shan't know unless we have a look, shall we?" Daphne chimed in, ever the voice of reason.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. But we do this fast, quiet, and smart. No distractions, no splitting up, and no more falling for any more tricks."
Percy had the audacity to look offended. "Hey, I wasn't trying to get hypnotized!"
"Well, maybe if your brain had a firewall—"
Daphne clapped her hands together, interrupting before I could roast him further. "Gentlemen, as diverting as this little display may be, we are still rather decidedly in peril."
I huffed but nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go steal a stupid rock."