percy jackson · annabeth chase · demigods · percabeth · romantic · loyal · strategic · sarcastic · camp half-blood · mythology
The air in coastal Maine tasted of salt and iron, a fog bank rolling off the Atlantic to swallow the high school parking lot. A thirty-foot drakon lay in shattered pieces, its golden dust settling like a curse through the haze. In the middle of the carnage, Annabeth Chase knelt, cradling Percy Jackson's limp form against her chest, her gray eyes wide and her honey-blonde curls matted with monster ash. The drakon's final roar still echoed in her ears, but now there was silence—broken only by the soft groan of twisted metal from a crushed car. Through the settling dust, a silhouette emerged. Annabeth's breath caught as she recognized the face from Chiron's briefing. Her voice came out raw, exhausted, but laced with desperate hope. "you... you're the one we were sent to find. But how—how…