[Third person POV]

Lucian descended from the attic, his footsteps creaking softly against the old wooden stairs. He stepped into the main room where the others were gathered. They had clearly been waiting for him, though he noticed immediately that two more people had joined the group—Percy and Tyson.

Percy sat hunched forward in his chair, elbows braced on his knees, his hands loosely clasped. His expression was weary, the kind of tired that came from not sleeping all too well. Tyson, on the other hand, was a picture of pure optimism—smiling widely, eye bright, completely unaware of or unconcerned with the heaviness in the air. The contrast between the two could not have been sharper.

Lucian took one look at Percy’s expression and let out an exasperated sigh. “Let me guess—Grover’s in trouble?”

Percy’s head shot up, startled. “Wha— How did you know?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. “I haven’t even told the others yet. I was waiting so I could explain it to everyone at once.”

“Call it intuition,” Lucian replied, waving a hand dismissively as he moved further into the room and took a seat. His tone made it clear that this wasn’t exactly his first time predicting bad news.

Thalia leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concern. “Wait—what do you mean Grover’s in trouble?”

Annabeth didn’t immediately react. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Grover—she did—but her attention was split. She was far more preoccupied with thoughts of Lucian’s prophecy, curious about what it said. Even so, she knew there was a time and place for those questions, and this wasn’t it. For now, she kept silent, simply listening.

Percy ran a hand through his hair, searching for the right words. “I think it started a few months ago. I’ve been having these… weird dreams. Mostly about Grover. He’s been running from monsters, hiding, using the staff Lucian gave him to defend himself. He’s actually been doing a good job… at least, until recently. In the last dream, he found an injured beast—looked like he was trying to heal it—and that’s when they caught up to him.” Percy’s brows drew together as he spoke, his voice heavy with unease.

Chiron, who had been standing quietly in the background, finally spoke. “What you’ve been experiencing are not mere dreams, Percy,” he said gravely. “They’re messages—sent through an empathic link.”

“An empathic link?” Percy repeated, turning to him in confusion.

“It’s a telepathic connection between a satyr and another person,” Annabeth explained before Chiron could elaborate. She rested her hand thoughtfully against her chin as she spoke. “They can communicate across great distances through dreams. If Grover’s formed one with you, he must be desperate.”

Percy’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Annabeth sighed, clearly wishing she didn’t have to explain. “Establishing an empathic link is a huge risk for both people. It’s not just about sending dreams—you can sense each other’s general location, even emotions. But there’s a catch: if one person dies, the other either dies as well… or falls into a vegetative state. The only way to break the link is if both parties meet in person and mutually agree to sever it.”

“WHAT?!” Percy shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Like I said,” Annabeth continued evenly, “it’s a desperate move—probably a last-ditch effort on Grover’s part. He’s putting a lot of faith in you, Percy. He believes you’ll be able to find him.”

“But why me?” Percy demanded, his voice rising with frustration. “Why not Lucian? Or Thalia? They’re both stronger than I am. If anyone has a good shot at finding him, it’s them.”

Annabeth shook her head. “It’s not about strength. An empathic link requires a close bond—really close, on a personal level. That’s the only way it works. It’s not that we don’t care about Grover or that we aren’t his friends. But over the years, while the rest of us were focused on our own things, you and he spent the most time together. You’ve built a connection with him that the rest of us simply haven’t.”

Percy exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging as he nodded in reluctant acceptance. “Alright… I suppose it’s up to me to go and save him. Since he’s placed his trust in me, I’d rather not let him down.”

“Sounds to me like it’s another quest,” Chiron remarked, the corners of his mouth tightening as he let out a weary sigh. “This is the second double quest we’ve had in recent memory. The first was last year—during the thunderbolt incident—and now this. I sincerely hope this isn’t the start of some troubling trend.”

Percy’s gaze shifted toward Lucian. “You’re going on a quest?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and faint apprehension.

Lucian gave a single, deliberate nod, offering no elaboration.

Chiron tilted his head slightly. “So… did you receive a prophecy?”

Again, Lucian nodded. Still, he didn’t offer any details.

“Mind sharing?” Chiron pressed, his tone still gentle but carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.

Lucian leaned back in his seat, his eyes unfocused as if weighing something heavy. After a long moment, he shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?” Thalia blurted, her brows knitting together in surprise.

“Lucian, what are you hiding? What did the prophecy say?” Annabeth demanded, her voice sharper, her frown deepening into something almost accusatory. Her gray eyes locked onto him with unyielding intensity.

“Ladies, please,” Chiron interjected, his voice edged with caution as he noticed both girls leaning forward, looking ready to beat the prophecy straight out of Lucian if they had to. “If Lucian doesn’t wish to share what his prophecy foretold, then please respect his wishes.”

Thalia and Annabeth both looked as though they wanted to argue, but one hard, unreadable glance from Lucian was enough to make them stop. Clicking their tongues in irritation, they leaned back, arms crossed, still visibly unhappy.

Percy rose from his seat without a word, heading toward the attic to receive his own prophecy. The creak of the stairs echoed through the room, leaving behind a brief silence broken only by the faint sound of the wind outside.

Annabeth and Thalia remained seated, still glaring at Lucian from across the table. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his expression unreadable, though the way his brow knitted together hinted at deep contemplation. Their annoyance began to fade into something else—concern.

The sound of footsteps signaled Percy’s return. He descended the stairs with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring down at the steps as though lost in thought. When he finally reached the bottom, he noticed the way everyone was watching him.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Seeing the expectant looks, Percy rolled his eyes. “If Lucian’s not sharing, why should I?”

The group let out a collective groan, while Lucian smirked faintly. “Brat.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Percy’s lips, though it quickly faded as his gaze drifted toward the door.

“So, what are you planning on doing next?” Lucian asked, his tone casual but his eyes watchful.

Percy let out a sigh. “Pack. See if Clarisse wants to come along. Then… head out, I guess.” He shrugged like he was trying to play it off, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Lucian arched a brow. “Do you even know where you’re supposed to be heading?”

A faint blush crept up Percy’s neck as he reached back to scratch his head. “…Not really. I was just thinking I’d wing it.”

“You’re seriously something else,” Lucian said, shaking his head in disbelief. “If you want my advice, I’d start by learning how to harness that empathic link. That way, you’d at least have a clear sense of where Grover is—and you’d actually know where you need to go.”

“I’m in agreement,” Chiron added, nodding in approval. “I understand the urgency, but heading out unprepared would only place you at a disadvantage. Take the time to ready yourself for the journey ahead.”

Percy stopped mid-thought, the weight of their words settling on him. He glanced back toward Lucian. “What about you? What are you going to be doing?”

Lucian’s expression darkened slightly. “Before anything else, I’m thinking of rebuilding the camp and setting up proper defenses… just in case there’s another attack.” He let out a long breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose as though the sheer scale of the task was already giving him a headache.

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