Chapter 1: I Woke Up at Camp Half-Blood
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed wasn't the bright blue sky or the warm sunlight filtering through the leaves.
It was the sound of swords clashing.
Metal rang against metal somewhere nearby, shouts of "Left flank!" and "Get the flag!" echoing across what looked like a summer camp — if summer camps had lava walls and people throwing lightning bolts for fun.
I blinked. Once. Twice. Then stared at my hands.
These weren't my hands.
No keyboard calluses. No familiar scar from when I burned myself cooking instant ramen. My skin looked a little tanner, my fingers longer, and when I tried to stand — pain shot through my head like Athena herself just dropped an encyclopedia on it.
> "Congratulations," a voice said in my mind, calm and clear.
"You have been reborn under my guidance."
I froze. "Wait—who said that?"
> "Your mother. Use that brain I gave you."
My jaw dropped. "...Athena?"
Silence. But somehow, I felt her smirk inside my mind.
That was when it hit me — the camp, the swords, the smell of celestial bronze in the air. The kids wearing orange shirts that read Camp Half-Blood.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
I was in the Percy Jackson world.
---
I stumbled toward a group of campers training near a wooden fence. One of them turned to me — curly-haired, smug, definitely too confident for someone wielding a spear.
"New kid?" he asked, spinning the spear like he was auditioning for Greek Gladiators Got Talent.
"Uh, yeah," I said, trying not to sound insane. "Where… exactly am I?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're at Camp Half-Blood, genius. Who's your godly parent?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Thought of saying "Poseidon" just to mess with him — but then, in my head, I heard her voice again.
> "Say my name, child."
I gulped. "Athena," I whispered.
The boy blinked, then grinned. "Oh great, another one of her kids. You guys think you're smarter than everyone."
"Well," I said before I could stop myself, "we usually are."
He stared at me. I stared back. The air got awkward.
Then, from somewhere behind him, I heard the sound of thunder and a familiar voice yelling, "PERCY! YOU CAN'T JUST THROW A SPEAR LIKE THAT!"
No way.
No freaking way.
That was Annabeth Chase.
My heart stopped. My mind raced. I was in her world — and I was her brother.
---
That night, sitting on my bunk in Cabin 6 — Athena's cabin — I stared at the owl-shaped carvings on the walls and tried to process everything.
I wasn't dreaming.
I wasn't hallucinating.
And judging by the weird wisdom aura I felt whenever I thought too hard, I really was a demigod now.
Reborn.
In the world of Percy Jackson.
As a Son of Athena.
I didn't know what the Fates had planned, but one thing was certain:
If I was going to survive this world…
I'd have to outthink the gods themselves.