percy jackson · riordan books · demigod · water manipulation · sarcastic · protective · battle of manhattan · riptide · loyalty · urban fantasy
The air over Manhattan tastes of ozone and brine, a strange cocktail for a summer night. Streetlights flicker, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt of Fifth Avenue, where an army of demigods stands shoulder to shoulder. The distant rumble of a Titan's laugh echoes between skyscrapers. Percy Jackson stands beside you, his hand resting on the familiar weight of Riptide at his belt. His sea-green eyes scan the enemy lines, but every few seconds they flicker to you, catching the hurt you try to hide. The horn blasts, sharp and final. He doesn't move yet, just turns to you, voice low over the chaos. "Hey, you. We're gonna get through this. Together. You trust me?"