CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

The metal door was half hidden behind a laundry bin full of dirty hotel towels. Sylvie didn't see anything strange about it, but Rachel showed them where to look, and Sylvie recognized the faint blue symbol etched in the metal.

"It hasn't been used in a long time," Annabeth said.

"I tried to open it once," Rachel said, "just out of curiosity. It's rusted shut."

"No." Annabeth stepped forward. "It just needs the touch of a half-blood."

Sure enough, as soon as Annabeth put her hand on the mark, it glowed blue. The metal door unsealed and creaked open, revealing a dark staircase leading down.

"Wow." Rachel looked calm, but Sylvie couldn't tell if she was pretending or not. Rachel had changed into a ratty Museum of Modern Art T-shirt and marker-colored jeans, her blue plastic hairbrush sticking out of her pocket. Her red hair was tied back, but she still had flecks of gold in it, and traces of the gold glitter on her face. "So... after you?"

"You're the guide," Annabeth said with mock politeness. "Lead on."

The stairs led down to a large brick tunnel. It was so dark Sylvie couldn't see two feet in front of them, but Sylvie, Percy, and Annabeth had restocked on flashlights. As soon as they switched them on, Sylvie and Rachel yelped.

A skeleton was grinning at them. It wasn't human. It was huge, for one thing—at least ten feet tall. It had been strung up, chained by its wrists and ankles so it made a kind of giant X over the tunnel. But what really sent a shiver down Sylvie's back was the single black eye socket in the center of its skull.

"A Cyclops," Sylvie exhaled. "It's old. It's not... anybody we know."

It wasn't Tyson, she meant. But she couldn't say it, because it didn't make her feel much better. Sylvie still felt like it had been put here as a warning. Whatever could kill a grown Cyclops, Sylvie didn't want to meet.

Rachel swallowed. "You have a friend who's a Cyclops?"

"Tyson," Sylvie said. "Percy's half brother."

"His half brother?"

"Hopefully we'll find him down here," Percy said. "And Grover. He's a satyr."

"Oh." Her voice was small. "Well then, we'd better keep moving."

She stepped under the skeleton's left arm and kept walking. Sylvie looked to see Percy and Annabeth exchange looks. Annabeth shrugged, then Percy looked Sylvie's way. Sylvie just turned her head from him. They followed Rachel deeper into the maze.

After fifty feet they came to a crossroads. Ahead, the brick tunnel continued. To the right, the walls were made of ancient marble slabs. To the left, the tunnel was dirt and tree roots.

Sylvie pointed left. "That looks like the tunnel Tyson and Grover took."

She sort of wished she'd insisted on going with them now.

Annabeth frowned. "Yeah, but the architecture to the right—those old stones—that's more likely to lead to an ancient part of the maze, toward Daedalus's workshop."

"We need to go straight," Rachel said.

Sylvie, Percy, and Annabeth both looked at her.

"It's bricks?" Sylvie said, confused.

"You don't see it?" Rachel asked. "Look at the floor."

Sylvie saw nothing except well-worn bricks and mud.

"There's a brightness there," Rachel insisted. "Very faint. But forward is the correct way. To the left, farther down the tunnel, those tree roots are moving like feelers. I don't like that. To the right, there's a trap about twenty feet down. Holes in the walls, maybe for spikes. I don't think we should risk it."

Sylvie didn't see anything like she was describing.

Then Percy nodded. "Okay. Forward."

"Why?" Sylvie asked.

"Because I believe her?" he said right back.

"Oh, of course," she rose her hands up. "My bad."

"Don't you?" Percy questioned.

"Of course I do," Sylvie forced herself to be casual and calm, but she was pretty sure her smile towards Rachel was practically a grimace. "Lead the way."

Together they kept walking down the brick corridor. It twisted and turned, but there were no more side tunnels. They seemed to be angling down, heading deeper underground.

"No traps?" Percy asked anxiously. So much for believing her.

"Nothing." Rachel knit her eyebrows. "Should it be this easy?"

"I don't know," he said. "It never was before."

"So, Red," Sylvie tried to act cool. Even by the sound of her tone, Percy and Annabeth were sharing glances. "Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn," Rachel said blankly.

Sylvie made the conversation to continue. "Oh. Cool. Awesome. I'm from Louisiana," she nodded. Annabeth cringed. "Are, uh, your parents going to be worried if you're out late?"

Rachel exhaled. "Not likely. I could be gone a week and they'd never notice."

"Why not?" This time it was much easier to ask the question. Sylvie didn't relate to problems with absent parents, but she surely understood having issues in your home life.

Before Rachel could answer, there was a creaking noise in front of them, like huge doors opening.

"What was that?" Annabeth asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said. "Metal hinges."

"Oh, that's very helpful. I mean, what is it?"

Then Sylvie heard heavy footsteps shaking the corridor— coming toward them.

"Run?" Percy asked.

"Run," Rachel agreed.

They turned and fled the way they'd come, but they didn't make it twenty feet before they ran straight into some old friends. Two dracaenae—snake women in Greek armor—leveled their javelins at their chests. Standing between them was an empousa cheerleader, who must've been Kelli, the same creature that attacked Percy back in his high school.

"Well, well," Kelli said.

Sylvie drew her daggers, Percy uncapped Riptide, and Annabeth pulled her knife; but before Halcyon was even out of glove form, Kelli pounced on Rachel. Her hand turned into a claw and she spun Rachel around, holding her tight with her talons at Rachel's neck.

"Taking your little mortal pet for a walk?" Kelli asked Percy. "They're such fragile things. So easy to break!"

Behind them, the footsteps came closer. A huge form appeared out of the gloom—an eight-foot-tall Laistrygonian giant with red eyes and fangs.

The giant licked his lips when he saw them. "Can I eat them?"

Sylvie whimpered.

"No," Kelli said. "Your master will want these. They will provide a great deal of entertainment." She smiled at them. "Now march, half-bloods. Or you all die here, starting with the mortal girl."

Not for the first time, Sylvie sort of wanted to pee herself out of fear. She couldn't open her eyes, the panic was all-consuming. Sylvie was pretty sure they were marched down the tunnel, though. Sylvie knew they were flanked by dracaenae, with Kelli and the giant in back, just in case they tried to run for it. Nobody seemed to worry about them running forward. That was the direction they wanted the teens to go.

Sylvie risked her eyes to open. Up ahead she could see bronze doors. They were about ten feet tall, emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords. From behind them came a muffled roar, like from a crowd.

"Oh, yessssss," said the snake woman on Sylvie's left. "You'll be very popular with our hossssst."

Sylvie had never gotten to look at a dracaena up close before, and she wasn't real thrilled to have the opportunity. The creature would've had a beautiful face, except her tongue was forked and her eyes were yellow with black slits for pupils. She wore bronze armor that stopped at her waist. Below that, where her legs should've been, were two massive snake trunks, mottled bronze and green. She moved by a combination of slithering and walking, as if she were on living skis.

"Who's your host?" Percy asked.

She hissed, which might have been a laugh. "Oh, you'll sssssee. You'll get along famousssly. He'ssss your brother, after all."

"My what?"

Immediately Sylvie thought of Tyson, but that was impossible. What was this bitch talking about?

The giant pushed past them and opened the doors. He picked up Sylvie and Annabeth by their shirts and said, "You stay here."

"Hey!" Annabeth protested, but the guy was twice the girls' sizes combined. And he'd already confiscated her knife, Sylvie's daggers, and Percy's sword. Sylvie had accepted their fate.

Kelli laughed. She still had her claws at Rachel's neck. "Go on, Percy. Entertain us. We'll wait here with your friends to make sure you behave."

"I'm sorry," Percy told Rachel. Sylvie's gut swirled with something different than fear. Worse than it, actually. "I'll get you out of this."

Rachel nodded as much as she could with a demon at her throat. "That would be nice."

The dracaenae prodded Percy toward the doorway at javelin-point, and he walked out onto the floor of an arena.

It wasn't the largest arena Sylvie had ever been in (not that she went around arena hopping...), but it seemed pretty spacious considering the whole place was underground. The dirt floor was circular, just big enough that you could drive a car around the rim if you pulled it really tight. In the center of the arena, a fight was going on between a giant and a centaur. The centaur looked panicked. He was galloping around his enemy, using a sword and shield, while the giant swung a javelin the size of a telephone pole and the crowd cheered.

The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, demigods, telekhines, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal.

But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old—nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher.

Sylvie wasn't going to describe them. Believe her, you didn't want her to.

In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was something that made no sense to Sylvie—a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center. What was that doing in a horrible place like this?

Above the banner, sitting in a seat of honor, was a familiar enemy.

Luke Castellan.

He smiled coldly. He was wearing camouflage pants, a white T-shirt, and bronze breastplate, just like Sylvie had seen in her dream. But he still wasn't wearing his sword, which Sylvie thought was strange. Next to him sat the largest giant she'd ever seen, much larger than the one on the floor fighting the centaur. The giant next to Luke must've been fifteen feet tall, easy, and so wide he took up three seats. He wore only a loincloth, like a sumo wrestler. His skin was dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs. 

(Sylvie humored herself with the thought that Eurydice was mad at Luke again and this was her replacement.)

There was a cry from the arena floor, and luckily Percy jumped back as the centaur crashed to the dirt beside him.

The centaur struggled to get up as the giant approached, his javelin ready. But he couldn't stand. One of his legs was broken. The giant put his huge foot on the horseman's chest and raised the javelin. He looked up at Luke. The crowd cheered, "DEATH! DEATH!"

Luke didn't do anything, but the tattooed sumo dude sitting next to him rose. He smiled down at the centaur, who was whimpering, "Please! No!"

Then the sumo dude held out his hand and gave the thumbs down sign.

Sylvie closed her eyes again as the gladiator giant thrust his javelin. When she looked again, the centaur was gone, disintegrated to ashes. All that was left was a single hoof, which the giant took up as a trophy and showed the crowd. They roared their approval. It was horrible.

A gate opened at the opposite end of the stadium and the giant marched out in triumph.

In the stands, the sumo dude raised his hands for silence.

"Good entertainment!" he bellowed. "But nothing I haven't seen before. What else do you have, Luke, Son of Hermes?"

Luke's jaw tightened. Sylvie could tell he didn't like being called son of Hermes. He hated his father. But he rose calmly to his feet. His eyes glittered. In fact, he seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

"Lord Antaeus," Luke said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "You have been an excellent host! We would be happy to amuse you, to repay the favor of passing through your territory."

"A favor I have not yet granted," Antaeus growled. "I want entertainment!"

Luke bowed. "I believe I have something better than centaurs to fight in your arena now. I have a brother of yours." He pointed at Percy. "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

The crowd began jeering at Percy and throwing stones, most of which he dodged, but one caught him on the cheek and made a good-sized cut. Sylvie jolted forward in worry, but the giant holding her tightened his grip and Sylvie winced.

"Ow," she glared, offended. Sylvie shared a look with Annabeth. This fucker is crazy and we're going to die.

Antaeus's eyes lit up. "A son of Poseidon? Then he should fight well! Or die well!"

"If his death pleases you," Luke said, "will you let our armies cross your territory?"

"Perchance!" Antaeus said.

Luke didn't look too pleased about the "perchance." He glared down at Percy, as if warning him that he'd better die in a really spectacular way or he'd be in big trouble.

"Luke!" Annabeth yelled. Sylvie's heart cracked a little. "Stop this. Let us go!"

Luke seemed to notice her for the first time. He looked stunned for a moment. "Annabeth?"

"Enough time for the females to fight afterward," Antaeus interrupted. "First, Percy Jackson, what weapons will you choose?"

The dracaenae pushed Percy into the middle of the arena.

Percy stared up at Antaeus. "How can you be a son of Poseidon?"

Antaeus laughed, and the rest of the crowd laughed too.

"I am his favorite son!" Antaeus boomed. "Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I've killed in his name! Your skull shall join them!"

"Who is this freak?" Sylvie whispered to Annabeth.

Hastily, Annabeth replied, "Antaeus. He's the son of Poseidon and Gaea. I don't know a lot, but he's a giant with superhuman strength who slaughters—well—everything, obviously."

"Obviously," Sylvie echoed, voice dry. She stared in horror at all the skulls—hundreds of them—and the fear swelled in her chest. But then: "Wait—Did you say... Gaea is his mother?"

"Yeah?"

Sylvie stared at where Antaeus's huge feet came in contact with the earth. She could sense the energy pumping through her veins like... roots.

"Percy!" Sylvie yelled suddenly. "His mother is Gaea! Gae—"

Her Laistrygonian captor clamped his hand over Sylvie's mouth. Annabeth's eyes widened, but before she could make sense of what Sylvie was trying to say, the giant used his other hand and clamped it over Annabeth's too. Sylvie prayed to all the gods above that Percy figured out what he was trying to tell her. Maybe then he could actually stand a chance at making this out alive.

Look, Sylvie might be pissed at him, but she didn't want him dead.

"You're crazy, Antaeus," Percy said. "If you think this is a good tribute, you know nothing about Poseidon."

The crowd screamed insults at Percy, but Antaeus raised his hand for silence.

"Weapons," he insisted. "And then we will see how you die. Will you have axes? Shields? Nets? Flamethrowers?"

"Just my sword," Percy said.

Laughter erupted from the monsters, but immediately Riptide appeared in his hands, and some of the voices in the crowd turned nervous. The bronze blade glowed with a faint light.

"Round one!" Antaeus announced. The gates opened, and a dracaena slithered out. She had a trident in one hand and a weighted net in the other—classic gladiator style. Far too easy for Percy to defeat.

She jabbed at Percy experimentally. Percy stepped away. She threw her net, hoping to tangle his sword hand, but he sidestepped easily, sliced her spear in half, and stabbed Riptide through a fissure in her armor. With a painful wail, she vaporized into nothing, and the cheering of the crowd died.

"No!" Antaeus bellowed. "Too fast! You must wait for the kill. Only I give that order!"

Percy glanced over at Sylvie, Annabeth, and Rachel. But Sylvie had no clue what the expression on his face was. She hated that. She used to be able to read him well.

"Nice job, Percy." Luke smiled. "You've gotten better with the sword. I'll grant you that."

"Round two!" Antaeus yelled. "And slower this time! More entertainment! Wait for my call before killing anybody, OR ELSE!"

The gates opened again, and this time a young warrior came out. He was a little older than Sylvie, about seventeen. He had glossy black hair, and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. He was thin and wiry so his Greek armor hung on him loosely. He stabbed his sword into the dirt, adjusted his shield straps, and pulled on his horsehair helmet.

"Who are you?" Percy asked.

"Ethan Nakamura," he said. "I have to kill you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Hey!" a monster jeered from the stands. "Stop talking and fight already!" The others took up the call.

"I have to prove myself," Ethan told him. "Only way to join up."

And with that he charged. Their swords met in midair and the crowd roared.

Ethan pressed forward. He was good. He must've been one of those randos Sylvie never knew from camp, because he'd clearly been trained. He parried Percy's strike and almost slammed Percy with his shield, but Percy jumped back. Ethan slashed. Percy rolled to one side. They exchanged thrusts and parries, but not much else.

"Blood!" the monsters cried.

Ethan glanced up at the stands. His desire to impress them was evident. He yelled an angry battle cry and charged Percy, but Percy parried Ethan's blade and backed away, letting Ethan come after him.

"Booo!" Antaeus said. "Stand and fight!"

Ethan pressed Percy, but Percy had no trouble defending, even without a shield. The crowd went nuts, yelling complaints and throwing rocks. They'd been fighting for almost five minutes and there was no blood.

Finally Ethan made his mistake. He tried to jab at Percy's stomach, and Percy locked Ethan's sword hilt in his and twisted. Ethan's sword dropped into the dirt. Before he could recover, Percy slammed the butt of his sword into Ethan's helmet and pushed Ethan down. Ethan fell on his back, dazed and tired. Percy put the tip of his sword on Ethan's chest.

"Get it over with," Ethan groaned.

Percy looked up at Antaeus. The creature's red face was stony with displeasure, but he held up his hand and put it thumbs down.

"Forget it." Percy sheathed his sword.

"Don't be a fool," Ethan groaned. "They'll just kill us both."

Percy offered Ethan his hand. Reluctantly, he took it. Percy helped him up.

"No one dishonors the games!" Antaeus bellowed. "Your heads shall both be tributes to Poseidon!"

Percy turned to Antaeus. "Why don't you fight me yourself? If you've got Dad's favor, come down here and prove it!"

The monsters grumbled in the stands. Antaeus looked around, and apparently realized he had no choice. He couldn't say no without looking like a coward.

"I am the greatest wrestler in the world, boy," he warned. "I have been wrestling since the first pankration!"

"Pankration?" Percy asked.

"He means fighting to the death," Ethan said. "No rules. No holds barred. It used to be an Olympic sport."

"Thanks for the tip," Percy said.

"Don't mention it."

Percy looked back to lock eyes with Sylvie again. All she could do was shake her head emphatically, the Laistrygonian's hand still clamped over her mouth.

Percy pointed his sword at Antaeus. "Winner takes all! I win, we all go free. You win, we die. Swear upon the River Styx."

If Percy was saying this, and he hadn't figured out what Sylvie was trying to tell him about defeating Antaeus, she was going to kill him. Even after Antaeus slaughtered them. Sylvie would find him in the Underworld and kill him a second time.

Antaeus laughed. "This shouldn't take long. I swear to your terms!"

He leaped off the railing, into the arena.

"Good luck," Ethan told Percy. "You'll need it." Then he backed up quickly.

Antaeus cracked his knuckles. He grinned, and Sylvie saw that even his teeth were etched in wave patterns, which must've made brushing after meals a real pain.

"Weapons?" he asked.

"I'll stick with my sword. You?"

He held up his huge hands and wiggled his fingers. "I don't need anything else! Master Luke, you will referee this one."

Luke smiled down at them. "With pleasure."

Antaeus lunged. Percy rolled under his legs and stabbed him in the back of his thigh.

"Argggh!" Antaeus yelled. Where blood should've come out, there was a spout of sand, like Percy busted the side of an hourglass. It spilled into the dirt floor, and the dirt collected around his leg, almost like a cast. When the dirt fell away, the wound was gone.

Sylvie blinked as she had been right about her theory, for once. She felt just as shocked at the realization as Annabeth looked when she finally came to the same one. Mark today in your calenders, everyone. The day Sylvie Duvall figured out something before Annabeth Chase.

Antaeus charged again. Percy dodged sideways this time and stabbed him under the arm. Riptide's blade was buried to the hilt in his ribs. That was the good news. The bad news was that it wrenched out of Percy's hand when the giant turned, and Percy was thrown across the arena, weaponless.

Antaeus bellowed in pain. But then he just groped for Riptide's hilt, pulled out the sword, and tossed it behind him. More sand poured from the wound, but again the earth rose up to cover him. Dirt coated his body all the way to his shoulders. As soon as the dirt spilled away, Antaeus was fine.

"Now you see why I never lose, demigod!" Antaeus gloated. "Come here and let me crush you. I'll make it quick!"

Antaeus stood between Percy and his sword. Desperately, Percy glanced to either side, and he caught Sylvie's eye.

Come on, Sylvie begged internally. The earth, Jackson. Gaea was keeping Antaeus alive, but only as long as he was touching the ground. If Percy could somehow get Antaeus up, he could kill the monster.

Sylvie caught a small smile on Percy's lips. He sent Sylvie a grateful nod.

Then Percy tried to skirt around Antaeus, but Antaeus anticipated his move. He blocked Percy's path, chuckling. He was just toying with Percy now. He had Percy cornered.

Percy feinted to the other side. Antaeus blocked him. The crowd jeered and screamed at Antaeus to finish Percy off, but he was having too much fun.

"Puny boy," he said. "Not a worthy son of the sea god!"

Percy charged straight ahead, crouching low. While Antaeus was stooping, ready to catch Percy like a grounder, Percy jumped for all he was worth—kicking off Antaeus's forearm, scrambling up Antaeus's shoulder like it was a ladder, placing his shoe on Antaeus's head. Antaeus did the natural thing. He straightened up indignantly and yelled, "HEY!"

Percy pushed off, using Antaeus's force to catapult him toward the ceiling. Percy caught the top of a chain, and the skulls and hooks jangled beneath him. He wrapped his legs around the chain, drew Riptide (that had finally reappeared), and sawed off the chain next to him.

"Come down here, coward!" Antaeus bellowed. He tried to grab Percy, but Percy was just out of reach.

Hanging on for dear life, Percy yelled, "Come up and get me! Or are you too slow and fat?"

He howled and made another grab for Percy. He caught a chain and tried to pull himself up. While he was struggling, Percy lowered the sawed-off chain, hook first. It took Percy two tries, but finally he snagged Antaeus's loincloth.

"WAAA!" he yelled.

Quickly Percy slipped the free chain through the fastening link on his own chain, pulled it taut, and secured it the best he could. Antaeus tried to slip back to the ground, but his butt stayed suspended by his loincloth. He had to hold on to the other chains with both hands to avoid getting flipped upside down. While Antaeus cursed and flailed, Percy scrambled around the chains, swinging and cutting like he was some kind of crazed monkey. Percy made loops with hooks and metal links. 

Within a couple of minutes the giant was suspended above the ground, hopelessly snarled in chains and hooks.

Percy dropped to the floor, panting and sweaty.

"Get me down!" Antaeus demanded.

"Free him!" Luke ordered. "He is our host!"

Percy uncapped Riptide. "I'll free him."

And Percy stabbed the giant in the stomach. Antaeus bellowed, and sand poured out, but he was too far up to touch the earth, and the dirt did not rise to help him. Antaeus just dissolved, pouring out bit by bit, until there was nothing left but empty swinging chains, a really big loincloth on a hook, and a bunch of grinning skulls dancing above like they finally had something to smile about.

"Jackson!" Luke yelled. "I should have killed you long ago!"

"You tried," Percy reminded him. "Let us go, Luke. We had a sworn agreement with Antaeus. I'm the winner."

He did just what Sylvie expected. He said, "Antaeus is dead. His oath dies with him. But since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll have you killed quickly."

He pointed at Annabeth. 

"Spare the girl." His voice quavered just a little. "I would speak to her before—before our great triumph."

Sylvie looked at Annabeth in wild curiosity, but Annabeth's watery eyes were glued onto Luke. Sylvie hated Luke deeply, but she also understood what this might be like for Annabeth. Luke was to Annabeth as Eurydice was to Sylvie. Sylvie wished it was different—wished she could judge Annabeth for still caring so much—but it wasn't, so she couldn't.

Every monster in the audience drew a weapon or extended its claws. They were trapped. Hopelessly outnumbered.

Percy's fingers suddenly closed around something in his pocket. He seemed to debate something for a few moments, but ultimately came to a decision. He took the device out of his pocket and... blew?

Sylvie felt a little embarrassed for him. There was no noise. Nothing happened. The object melted into ice in his hand.

Luke laughed. "What was that supposed to do?"

Sylvie and Annabeth yelped in unison out of surprise. The Laistrygonian giant let go of the girls for some reason. He was flying in the air and smashing into the wall.

"AROOOOF!"

Kelli the empousa screamed as a five-hundred-pound black mastiff picked her up like a chew toy and tossed her through the air, straight into Luke. Mrs. O'Leary snarled, and the two dracaenae guards backed away. For a moment the monsters in the audience were caught completely by surprise.

"Let's go!" Percy yelled at his friends. "Heel, Mrs. O'Leary!"

"The far exit!" Rachel cried. "That's the right way!"

Ethan Nakamura took his cue. Together they raced across the arena and out the far exit, Mrs. O'Leary right behind them. As they ran, Sylvie could hear the disorganized sounds of an entire army trying to jump out of the stands and follow them.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

Let's be real no one ever actually reads this chapter like 

I was gonna title it "idgaf fr" but that felt too mean. So. Here we are hi

Now why was Sylvie so invested in Percy and Ethan fight okay Challengers That's a joke idk why I said that I didn't mean it

So yeah Sylvie figured something out for once. There's that. Love my girl she's the only reason I persevered through writing this!!!

And her trying to be calm with Rachel when she's the least calm person every lowkey is taking me out Like she's trying her best to socialize It's just hard guys

An angel dies every time a person compares Eurydice&Sylvie to Luke&Annabeth