[Third person POV]
Lucian sat in class, slouched over his desk, his lips pursed in mild boredom as he balanced a pencil on top of them. His eyes, however, were distant—unfocused and heavy with thought. His mind wasn't on the lesson Ms. Ferguson was going over. It was still dwelling on what had happened yesterday—Markus's long-awaited meeting with Thanatos.
The encounter had clearly left a mark on Markus, though he had hidden most of his emotions behind a cool, composed exterior. Lucian had been the only one Markus brought along, a choice that was understandable in hindsight. When Annabeth, Thalia, and Bianca found out, they were clearly disappointed to have missed the momentous event. But in the end, they respected Markus's decision—he had wanted just Lucian there, and that was that.
When the two returned, the group welcomed them with a mix of curiosity and warmth. Markus received well-deserved pats on the back and words of encouragement. Everyone acknowledged the courage it must have taken for him to face the god of Death, even if it was his own father. Though Markus downplayed it, Lucian noticed the way his shoulders eased slightly under the praise—it meant something to him, even if he wouldn't admit it aloud.
Now, as the June sun glared faintly through the classroom windows, signaling the school year's approaching end, Lucian rocked his feet beneath his desk. Markus had mentioned that he was waiting until summer officially began before confronting his mother about the truths he had learned. Until then, there was nothing to do but wait.
Or so Lucian thought.
Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him like ice water pouring down his spine. His body froze mid-motion, and his eyes widened in alarm. Without warning, he pushed his chair back violently, the metal legs screeching against the tile floor with a sharp, grating sound that cut through the classroom. The sudden noise interrupted Ms. Ferguson mid-sentence, and the entire class turned toward him.
Ms. Ferguson closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples with irritation. "Lucian," she said, her tone strained, "I know the school year is almost over, but that doesn't mean you get to—"
She stopped herself abruptly when she caught a proper look at Lucian's face. His expression was filled with stunned disbelief—his gaze distant, as if seeing something no one else could.
"Lucian?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
But Lucian didn't hear her. All he could hear was the sharp, echoing sound of shattering glass reverberating through his mind. 'The barrier protecting the camp… it's been broken.'
Lucian blinked, snapping out of his trance as the gravity of the situation hit him. He looked around the room and noticed that everyone was staring at him like he had lost his mind. Well, almost everyone—Bianca and Annabeth, sitting near the back, were watching him with visible concern.
Clicking his tongue in frustration, Lucian closed his eyes. When they opened again, a faint glow pulsed through them like flickering moonlight. Ms. Ferguson took a step back, startled.
Before she could utter a word, Lucian beat her to it. His voice shifted, imbued with an unnatural power that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the classroom—ethereal, echoing, impossible to ignore.
"Sleep," he commanded, unleashing his charmspeak.
"What…?" Ms. Ferguson mumbled in confusion. Her eyelids drooped, her body slumped, and within seconds she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
The rest of the class fared no better. Students all around began to fall victim to the enchantment—some slumping forward onto their desks, others leaning back with their heads lolled toward the ceiling. A deep stillness overtook the room.
Annabeth stood up immediately, her face tense with worry. "Lucian? What's going on? Why did you put everyone to sleep?"
Lucian turned toward her, his expression grim. "It's the camp. It's under attack. Someone managed to break through the protective wards I set up."
"What?!" Bianca and Annabeth gasped in unison, eyes widening in shock.
"I know," Lucian muttered, frustrated. "I even reinforced the barrier before we left camp last summer. It shouldn't have been possible… and yet, somehow, they got through."
The Fates, cloaked in their usual mystique, watched silently for a moment before Lachesis offered a small smile.
"Then you'd better get going," she said gently. "This is no time to dawdle."
Lucian met their eyes but said nothing. There wasn't time for conversation.
"I'll find Thalia," Annabeth said quickly. "Since we can each teleport, we'll rendezvous at the camp."
"I'll go get Nico," Bianca added without hesitation.
Lucian nodded. "I'll get Markus. He could use the experience… even if he won't like it."
Without another word, the three rushed out of the classroom, disappearing in different directions.
Lucian paused at the doorway, hand gripping the frame as he looked back at the still-seated Fates, who were watching him with unreadable expressions.
"Can I leave the cleanup to you guys?" he asked, already turning to leave.
"Absolutely! You go on—we've got this covered," Chloe chirped with a bright smile, flashing him two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Lucian gave a nod of gratitude before vanishing down the hallway.
As the sound of his footsteps faded, Chloe let out a wistful sigh. "And so it begins…"
"Unfortunately, yes," murmured Lachesis, her voice laced with concern.
"I must admit," Atropos added with a weary smile, "there's something strangely poetic about it all."
"Should we give it a name?" Lachesis asked after a pause.
"Wouldn't that be a little disrespectful?" Atropos replied hesitantly. "Considering the pain and suffering Lucian's about to endure?"
Chloe shook her head, her tone light but sincere. "I say we name it. All legendary tales have names. It gives them weight, meaning… legacy."
After a brief moment of thought, she smiled and said, "We'll call it… The Tale of the Cursed Knight."
Lachesis raised an eyebrow. "A little on the nose, don't you think?"
"Maybe," Chloe said, shrugging. "But it does get the point across."
"I agree," Atropos said, sighing. "Let's leave it at that, then. And may Lucian's journey… be worth the cost."
The three nodded solemnly, their gazes lingering on the empty doorway long after Lucian had gone.
…
Lucian and Markus moved swiftly through the shadows, traveling with eerie silence as the world around them blurred. The power of shadow travel kept them hidden, but it couldn't muffle the thoughts racing through Markus's head.
"Seriously?" Markus asked, glancing at Lucian as they soared through the void-like space between places. "You're taking me into this kind of battle? Am I even ready for something this big?"
Lucian scoffed without slowing down. "You literally met and faced the God of Death himself. What exactly do you have left to fear?"
Markus opened his mouth to respond but paused, realizing Lucian had a point. "I suppose that's fair," he muttered with a chuckle, though nerves still danced beneath his voice.
Within moments, the two felt the shift in pressure—the sign that someone else was moving toward the same destination. Annabeth's presence was unmistakable. She was gliding through the air carried by Nox,. Cradled in her arms was Thalia, her brows furrowed and hands glowing with static energy, ready for a fight.
Lucian looked up toward the thick clouds swirling above the treetops. "We're here," he said. "Everyone, up!"
With a surge of will, Lucian shot upward through the final veil of shadows, Markus, Annabeth, Thalia, and Nox following close behind. They burst from the ground near the hilltop overlooking Camp Half-Blood—and the moment they emerged, everything came to a terrifying halt.
The shadows at their feet twisted and writhed violently as if reacting to the chaos before them.
They all stood still, eyes wide, faces pale.
Before them, the once-vibrant sanctuary of Camp Half-Blood was being consumed by horror.
Flames roared from the tops of cabins and treetops alike, painting the sky in hues of red and black. Thick columns of smoke curled into the heavens, blotting out the sun. Screams echoed across the camp—some filled with rage, others with terror. A haunting cacophony of agony.
Lucian's eyes darted over the landscape—and then he froze.
"No…" he breathed, voice trembling. His face twisted in disbelief, horror settling deep in his chest.
His worst fear had come to life.
Across the camp grounds, grotesque, lumbering monstrosities dragged themselves between burning trees and shattered buildings. They were wrong in every sense of the word—unnatural and maddening to look at. Some were titanic in size, towering over the cabins like giants, with distended limbs that bent at too many joints. Others had twisting tendrils or jagged bone spurs sprouting from their torsos. Their flesh shifted like liquid, revealing too many eyes… or too many mouths.
One of the beasts let out a guttural scream, and Markus dropped to one knee, clutching his ears. It wasn't just noise—it was madness, a sound that clawed at the mind and threatened to tear the soul apart.
Other creatures thrashed with limbs that grew in impossible places—hands inside their chests, spines running down their arms, mouths that stretched across their backs and wailed with every movement. Some of them even seemed to laugh, not with joy, but with the delirious glee of something no longer sane.
Lucian stared, rage mixing with dread as the realization hit him like a dagger to the heart.
"They were fed the potions…" he whispered, his fists tightening. "Those bastards used the potions on them."
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