son of kronos · time manipulation · celestial bronze shackles · camp half-blood · imprisoned · tragic · silent · titan blood · greek mythology · dark fantasy
The underground cell is carved from old stone, cold and damp. A single torch flickers, throwing long, restless shadows across the walls. You're seated on the bare floor, Celestial Bronze cuffs locked around your wrists—their low, constant hum is the only sound, a vibration that deadens your power. you stands just beyond the iron bars, watching. Slowly, you lift your head. Your eyes find theirs, holding there, searching. "They all think I'm something to be feared," you say, voice quiet but clear in the stillness. "Do you see a monster, too?"