[Third Person’s PoV]

Lucian calmly walked through the corridor until he found Medusa sitting by the stairs, looking up and wiping her tears. He approached her and sat down beside her.

“Sorry about them… You know how kids are—always seeking answers to satisfy their curiosity,” he said in a lighthearted tone, trying to lift the mood.

Medusa shook her head. “No, I’m ashamed of how I reacted. I’m thousands of years old. I shouldn’t have behaved like that, especially in front of a group of children.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “This is the part where I’m supposed to put my hand on yours for support, but I doubt what you need right now is my hand on yours,” he teased gently, which brought a small chuckle from Medusa.

“But that’s beside the point. What I’m really trying to say is that what you’re feeling is completely justifiable. You don’t have to be ashamed of how you reacted or how you feel. They’re your emotions, and no one can take that away from you.” Lucian leaned back on the stairs, giving her space to process his words.

Medusa finished wiping her eyes, then put her glasses back on. She turned to Lucian, studying him with a strange expression.

Noticing her look, Lucian raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing… It’s just, that’s surprisingly mature for someone your age,” she said, still eyeing him curiously.

“What can I say? My mother raised me well. She also taught me to be there for people, so if you need someone to listen—lucky for you, I’ve got two ears,” he said with a soft smile.

Medusa smiled and ruffled his hair, letting out a deep sigh. “It’s just… seeing that kid, Percy, was it? I know he has nothing to do with what happened to me, but those green eyes of his… they remind me of *him*. It triggered some rather unpleasant memories, and I just snapped when that girl mentioned how the gods altered the events. It was like…” Medusa paused as if trying to find the words herself.

“Like they were minimizing all the pain and suffering you went through? As if everything you experienced and struggled with was for nothing? That your history was erased, and only you are left to remember the truth?” Lucian interjected.

Medusa stared at him in shock. “That’s… exactly it. It’s honestly scary how accurate that is” she said, her voice filled with surprise.

Lucian shrugged. “What can I say? I pay attention. I listen. And I understand how that kind of pain sticks with you.”

Her expression softened into a genuine smile. “You really are a good listener.”

She stared at Lucian for a moment, making him feel a little awkward under her intense gaze as if trying to make her mind up about something. After a brief silence, Medusa spoke again. “Can I be honest with you about something? Something I hope stays between us?”

Lucian straightened up, sensing the seriousness in her tone. “Of course.”

Medusa hesitated, her voice quiet as she began. “I feel… pathetic. What happened to me was centuries, millennia ago. By all means, I should be over it by now. But as you can see, I’m still haunted by it.”

Lucian nodded, thinking for a moment. “Can I say something that might sound harsh?”

Medusa nodded, curious. “Go ahead.”

“Well, duh!” he said with an eyeroll, earning a confused look from her. “Of course you’re still affected by it, Medusa. You were cursed to live as a gorgon, a constant reminder of the tragedy you experienced. And it wasn’t just any random curse—it was from the very goddess you worshipped, the one you placed all your faith in. The one you gave your body and soul to.”

Lucian used his shadow to form a hand, gently placing it over hers. “You’re not pathetic. The fact that you haven’t ‘gotten over it’ isn’t something to be ashamed of. What you went through leaves scars that don’t simply heal. They ache, and they stay with you.”

He paused before continuing. “When I first heard your story, I pitied you. I know you might not like hearing that, but it’s the truth. I felt deep sympathy for the injustice you faced. But as I got older, and I experienced the dangers of the supernatural world myself, something changed. I stopped pitying you. Instead, I felt admiration. Respect.”

Medusa raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Seriously?”

Lucian nodded. “You could have given up at any point. Immortals can cease to exist if they lose the will to live. But you didn’t. Despite everything you’ve been through—despite being tortured and cursed for eons—you’re still here. Still living. If that’s not a strength worth admiring, then I don’t know what is.”

Medusa smiled warmly, touched by his words. She brushed a strand of hair from Lucian’s face and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Lucian. You’re very kind. I have to say, Medea did a fantastic job raising you.”

Lucian grinned. “Thanks, Aunty.”

Medusa’s eyes widened as she stifled a laugh, turning away to hide her amusement. “Aunty? Now that’s something I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

Lucian shrugged playfully. “Well, from how you describe your experience with my mother the two of you seem close and you kind of feel like family after everything we discussed together.”

Medusa chuckled, pinching his cheek affectionately. “Aunty, huh? I think I like that.”

Medusa then hugged Lucian tightly. “Thank you, Lucian, truly…”

Lucian patted her arm with a small smile. “It’s Lucy…”

Medusa pulled back slightly, confused. “What?”

“Those really close to me, I let them call me Lucy,” he explained casually.

“Lucy? Are you serious?” Medusa asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“What? It’s a cute nickname I’ve grown to like. But like I said, only those I allow,” he added with a grin.

Medusa chuckled softly. “I see, so we’re giving each other cutesy nicknames now? Then I choose *Aunty Em,*” she said proudly.

Lucian smiled and nodded in agreement. “Aunty Em it is.”

Medusa pushed herself off the stairs, gesturing for Lucian to follow. “I think it’s best if we head back. The food’s probably cold by now. I’ll need to reheat it.”

“I can always use magic to heat it up quickly,” Lucian offered with a wink.

“You, my brand new, not-related nephew, are a lifesaver,” Medusa teased as they re-entered the dining room.

But as soon as they walked in, they were met with a solemn atmosphere. Tears streamed down the faces of some of the others, and Percy sat there, his face twisted in shame. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and his head hung low, almost touching the table.

“I’m sorry for all the pain and suffering you’ve experienced because of my father,” Percy said, his voice thick with remorse. “You didn’t deserve what you went through… no one does.”

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