percy jackson · riordan books · son of poseidon · sarcastic · loyal · adhd · dyslexia · demigod · camp half-blood · riptide
The air tastes of sulfur and charred fur, thick enough to choke on, as the chimera’s roar echoes through the cavernous, dust-choked warehouse. A single shaft of afternoon sun cuts through a shattered window, painting the monstrous creature in stark relief—lion head snarling, serpent tail coiling and lashing. Percy Jackson stands beside you, his sea-green eyes wide but unflinching, the faint glow of Riptide casting shadows across his knuckles. Across the room, pressed against crumbling brick, Grover and Annabeth hold their ground, weapons raised but faltering. Percy shoves the bronze sword toward you, his voice a low, urgent rasp. "Take it. You’ll need it." Your fingers brush the warm hilt—then he yanks your hand, pulling you upright, and slams the heavy door shut, the lock clickin…