[Third Person Pov]

“Shame on you all,” Lucian said, shaking his head slowly at the entire group as though they’d all personally disappointed him. “How could you possibly forget about our precious Satyr?”

Everyone stared at Lucian with the same expression—an expression that said they were all this close to punching him. Percy, already looking quite guilty, threw up his hands. “We didn’t necessarily forget! You just—y’know—went and died and distracted us. If anything it’s your fault for making us think you were gone.” His voice cracked slightly at the end.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” Lucian teased, flashing a smug grin before turning back toward his shadow soldiers. “Great job, everyone. I couldn’t have done any of this without y’all.”

In perfect, eerie unison, every shadow soldier bowed their head. Their instructions dissolved into darkness and, one by one, they stepped forwards and melted into Lucian’s shadow like ink sinking into water.

Clarisse crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Was that whole dramatic performance earlier really necessary?”

“Of course it was,” Lucian replied instantly, with not even a flicker of doubt. “How else were you supposed to know I had risen from the dead? Can’t just show up casually like ‘Hey guys, long time no see.’ Theatrics matter.”

“You guys know we can talk and walk at the same time, right?” Percy cut in, already pushing ahead through the trees. “Let’s go save Grover before we’re literally too late.”

They moved together through the forest path, boots sinking into soft moss and fallen needles. Annabeth clung to Lucian’s arm, refusing to lose physical contact now that he was alive again. As they walked, they explained everything he’d missed while he was dead.

“I was only present for a moment in the Astral World,” Lucian said thoughtfully. “But I still saw fragments of what went on. Honestly… I didn’t expect Scylla to be the one to stop you from committing suicide.”

Annabeth blinked. “Huh? Seriously? Didn’t you have that entire thing orchestrated? Like… you planned every detail.”

“I did,” Lucian admitted with a shrug. “But nothing ever goes exactly how you expect. I was expecting either Thalia or Percy to stop you from following after me, on the rare chance perhaps Tyson” He glanced over his shoulder and gave Scylla a small nod of acknowledgement. She flinched, then nodded back timidly.

They eventually emerged from the tree line into a broad meadow that opened into an expansive clearing. Sunlight washed over the field, and far across the grass stood the tall, proud tree that once held the Golden Fleece. It was surrounded by an absurd number of giant sheep—each one roughly the size of a well-fed hippopotamus.

“Talk about being overfed…” Percy muttered. His gaze drifted past the woolen army toward the towering cliffside behind them—a sixty-meter vertical rise climbing up the mountain like a stone wall to heaven.

“They’re not overfed, you dummy,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “They’re man-eating sheep.”

Percy stared at her. Blinked. Then sighed dramatically. “Of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be? Whoever named them must’ve been so proud of themselves.” He lifted his hands. “And I’m gonna take a wild, insane guess here—just spitballing—and say their preferred diet? Meat, right?”

As if on cue, a lone stag wandered out from the opposite side of the clearing, stepping onto a lush patch of grass. The sheep perked up simultaneously. Then, like furry missiles of doom, they stampede toward it.

They swarmed the poor creature in less than a second. A moment later, the herd calmly drifted back toward the tree, and what remained of the stag—a spotless, upright skeleton—wobbled for a beat before collapsing into a heap of bones.

Everyone just… stared. No one breathed.

Percy slowly turned around. “Well. It was nice knowing Grover. He had a good run. We will miss him dearly.”

Lucian burst out laughing, nearly doubling over, while Clarisse and Bianca both grabbed Percy by the arms and spun him back toward the clearing before he could retreat.

Lucian didn’t hesitate. Without a shred of fear, he stepped forward and began walking onto the meadow, the others trailing behind him. Together, they followed him toward the danger waiting ahead.

The sheep raised their massive heads, their yellow eyes locking onto his with unsettling intensity. For a moment they just stared as if appraising him… They ignored Lucian and instead their eyes looked over towards the group standing behind him. Their attention shifted instantly, muscles tensing, hooves scraping the ground as they prepared to charge.

Lucian smirked, lifting his chin with a quiet confidence. He spoke a single word.

“Fall.”

The command echoed like a curse, soaked in a heavy surge of malevolent energy. It washed over the flock, sinking into their minds like invisible chains. One by one the sheep’s legs buckled, collapsing them to the ground as though gravity itself had tripled. They strained, glaring, baring their teeth—but they couldn’t lift so much as a hoof.

Lucian walked straight through the sea of immobilized beasts, not even sparing them a glance. The others followed cautiously in his footsteps, giving the frozen sheep wide-eyed looks.

“Okay, that’s honestly pretty cool…” Markus muttered, watching a sheep attempt to lunge only for its body to stay rooted to the earth.

At last they reached the base of the cliff. Everyone craned their necks, staring upward at the steep, jagged climb that stretched toward the clouds. Thalia was already gathering her energy, preparing to forge a platform of air, when Lucian casually stretched his arms out wide.

“Markus. Carry me up.”

Markus stared at him, deadpan. “Are you being deadass right now?”

“Yeah? What do you think I pay you for? To stand there and look pretty?” Lucian scoffed.

“You aren’t paying me anything!” Markus snapped, wings twitching in disbelief.

“I’m not?” Lucian blinked, genuinely confused. Then he tilted his head, giving Markus a strange look. “So you’re telling me… you’re following me—became my lieutenant—for free?”

“You’re so annoying,” Markus groaned. Despite the complaint, he grabbed Lucian by the arms, his enormous wings unfurling to their full span. With a powerful beat, he launched them both skyward.

As they ascended, Markus gave Lucian a suspicious side-eye. “Dude, why the hell are you so light? You weigh practically nothing.”

Lucian grinned, eyes gleaming. “What can I say? Dying helps you lose a few pounds.”

Below them, Thalia finished forming a solid platform of compressed air beneath the group. She lifted everyone upward, guiding them along the cliff face as they followed after Markus and Lucian.

Markus continued all the way past the mountain’s edge. When they reached the top of the mountain, Thalia lowered her platform, allowing everyone to step off safely. While Lucian suddenly became too heavy for Markus to hold and promptly dropped down like a meteor.

Lucian plummeted unnaturally fast, gravity bending around him. The wind screamed past his body, pressure warping the air. When he hit the ground, the entire mountaintop shuddered violently. Cracks spiderwebbed outward under his feet.

Nearly everyone stumbled. Bianca outright fell to her knees.

“What is your problem?!” she shouted, glaring daggers at him.

“I need to make cool entrances. It’s part of my character trait.” Lucian flashed her a thumbs-up.

Bianca’s eyebrow twitched so hard she looked ready to throttle him and personally test the durability of his resurrected neck.

Before she could act on that impulse, a thunderous voice boomed from inside the cavern sealed by a massive boulder.

“WHO GOES THERE?!”

Lucian didn’t answer immediately. He strode forward instead, a wide grin stretching across his face. The Golden Fleece resting over his shoulder glowed faintly, swaying with each step like a trophy.

He raised his fist. Everyone watched as it began to tremble—first subtly, then violently. The motion built rapidly, escalating into a rapid pulsation like a jackhammer made of raw earth-shaking force. The air around his hand warped, vibrating in concentric ripples that formed a spherical aura of pressure.

Lucian cocked his arm back.

“Knock, knock~,” he called playfully.

His fist slammed into the gigantic boulder.

The impact detonated outward in a stunning wave. Shock rippled across the entire surface, cracking, splintering, then obliterating the stone into thousands of clean-cut square fragments that blasted outward like shrapnel.

As the dust cloud rushed out of the cave’s mouth, Lucian leaned forward, voice dripping with mischief.

“Is the bride home~?” he called into the darkness.

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