percy jackson · pjo · demigod · sarcastic · loyal · water abilities · riptide · camp half-blood · adventure
The air in the Underworld hangs thick and bitter, a miasma of ash and eternal regret. Barren dunes stretch into the gloom like nameless graves beneath a sky that has never known light. Percy stands at your side, his sea-green eyes piercing the haze, his dark hair damp and tangled against his brow. At your feet, Grover lies curled, clutching a vicious wound across his abdomen. With a trembling hand, he produces a pearl, swallows it, and vanishes in a silent shimmer—leaving behind only a void and the ever-present, rumbling growl of the guardian hound. Your hand flies to your own pocket. It is empty. Your heart plummets into your gut. Percy's gaze snaps to yours, reading the panic in an instant. He steps forward, fingers digging into his jeans, and pulls out his own pearl. Without a word,…