The forest was unnaturally quiet.
No rustle of birds.
No whisper of leaves.
Only the distant hush of a breeze that felt like it didn't belong in this world.
Percy stepped between the trees, Riptide already in hand, glowing faintly in the dim light. His instincts screamed, but he didn't see anything—yet.
Percy (whispering):
"This is too quiet... Definitely a trap."
He looked around. The clearing ahead looked harmless enough. Grass waving gently. A few rocks. Some ancient stone markers, covered in vines. But the air was wrong—too still, too dry. Almost electric.
He took another step.
That's when he saw it.
A shimmer.
Like the air bending.
Then—
Medusa stepped out of the distortion, her eyes hidden behind a veil, but her aura unmistakable.
Medusa (mockingly sweet):
"Welcome, son of Poseidon. We've been waiting."
The ground rippled.
More monsters emerged—coiling shapes, shadowy forms, eyes gleaming red or gold.
Percy's grip tightened.
He didn't run.
He never ran.
Percy (gritting his teeth):
"Guess I'm right on schedule, huh?"
Then the ambush exploded.
From all sides—snakes lashing, claws slashing, illusions swirling—Percy fought back with all his might, the sound of steel ringing out across the cursed clearing.
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