Look, I didn't want to make a dramatic entrance.
But Apollo insisted.
I could hear the cheers and shouting from the other side of the columns, where I'd been hiding for over half an hour, sweating and wondering why I'd let myself get roped into this. Apollo appeared next to me, grinning as usual.
"How you doing, champ?" he asked, like we were about to play a quick game of beach volleyball. "We're up next."
I nodded, not really in the mood to talk. Through the marble, I could see the arena laid out like a Roman colosseum on steroids—packed with gods, demigods, and a bunch of people I couldn't even begin to place. The stands were shaking with excitement. Wouldn't have surprised me if they were selling popcorn too.
I saw Thalia show up right behind Artemis, both of them in the silver uniforms of the Hunters. They walked with that near-military precision straight to the center of the arena, where the goddess Iris—who Apollo told me had decided not to participate—was waiting, holding a multicolored pen that looked more like an explosive rainbow than a writing tool.
Apollo and I watched from the shadows as Artemis stepped forward and spoke her champion's name. When she said it—"Thalia Grace"—the entire arena exploded in cheers. Maybe because she's popular, maybe out of respect for Artemis, or maybe because half of Olympus was excited to watch her beat someone up. Whatever it was, the hype was very real.
Then Apollo looked at me, crouched a bit to peek under my hood, and said:
"Ready?"
"First time anyone's asked me that," I muttered with a tight smile, even though I was seriously considering faking a last-minute ankle sprain.
We stepped out from behind the columns. We walked side by side, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I heard some reactions to seeing Apollo—applause, whispers, a couple dramatic sighs—but once they noticed someone else walking behind him, the mood turned... confused. A low murmur started, like when someone says something crazy and no one wants to admit they heard it.
The walk to the center felt endless. My heartbeat was thudding in my ears, and every step echoed louder than the last. We reached Iris, who twirled her rainbow pen like a magical baton and raised an eyebrow at us.
"Name of your champion?" she asked Apollo.
"Percy Jackson," he said. Loud. Clear. With that annoyingly radiant smile.
Silence.
One of those movie silences, right before the explosion. I pulled back my hood, ran a hand through my hair, praying it didn't look like a total disaster.
Then came the eruption.
My name. Everywhere. From the demigod section, from the minor gods, even some major gods clapping enthusiastically. I hadn't expected it—not like that.
I had no idea how to react. I swallowed hard and gave a slightly awkward side-smile. I considered waving, but Apollo placed a warm, steady hand on my shoulder. He didn't say anything—just smiled at me like this was exactly how it was all supposed to go.
Iris raised her pen.
"You got that down?" Apollo asked her.
She nodded, smiling just a bit, and we stepped away. The noise still echoed behind us as we went to find a spot in the stands. Everything felt slower, like the weight of the moment was settling on my shoulders.
I, Percy Jackson, had just become Apollo's champion in the games that would decide the next king or queen of Olympus.
And honestly... the idea of staying home changing diapers suddenly didn't sound that bad.
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After the official presentation—or, as Apollo calls it, "our star moment"—we stayed in the stands, watching more participants roll in. There were still so many to go. Which, honestly, felt unfair. After all the drama of walking out into the arena with Apollo shouting my name like I was some kind of pop star, I thought I at least deserved a break. Spoiler: nope.
Apollo, with his eternal-god calm and that toothpaste-commercial smile, explained that it was "vital" to watch who joined and what champions they brought. "Strategic," he said. Meanwhile, I was just trying not to look like a weirdo while half of Olympus kept sneaking glances at me. It's hard being the "Hero of Olympus" when all you want is for the ground to swallow you up.
And then—boom!—surprises everywhere.
Athena announced Lou Ellen without blinking. Lou Ellen. It's not that I doubt her magical skills, but... really? I half expected Annabeth to jump out and yell, "surprise! Social experiment!" But no. Annabeth is off living her best life with books, classes, and a god-free college existence. Smart move. Though I still can't believe she told her mom no. That's like... telling Hades his robe is tacky and somehow living to tell the tale.
Then Hera showed up with Hylla—Reyna's sister and current Queen of the Amazons. And yeah, the two of them together? Intimidating. But I couldn't help the punch-in-the-gut feeling when I thought of Jason. If he were here, he probably would've been the one walking beside her. But he's not. And that still stings.
Hermes brought Connor Stoll, which made me wonder if the gods were seriously underestimating this. Because if anyone's going to sabotage the games from the inside, it's Connor—with firecrackers, stink bombs, or whatever he's stolen lately.
Ares and Clarisse marched in like they owned the place. Spoiler #2: we should definitely be worried about them. Clarisse doesn't even smile for ID photos.
And then there was Frank. Yeah, Frank Zhang, the big Canadian teddy bear, representing... my dad, Poseidon. That one hit different. I mean, I'm proud of him—Frank's awesome—but also... ouch. Still, I get it. Apollo made sure nobody could track me down while I was in hiding, including Poseidon. Gotta preserve the surprise. Gotta love the drama. Bravo, Apollo.
After so many faces, names, and sparkly god-aura moments, I was done. I leaned toward Apollo and muttered:
"I'm going for a walk. I've hit my Olympus limit for today."
He nodded, too busy analyzing divine game strategy to stop me, so I slipped away through one of those endless, overly manicured gardens the gods love so much. Perfect hedges, shining statues—I just wanted quiet. No applause, no glowing stares, no divine sparkle.
And then, like she'd dropped from the sky—or maybe off the set of some punk Greek superhero movie—there was Thalia.
She was sitting on the edge of a fountain, bow slung over her shoulder, wearing that "talk to me and I will electrocute you" look.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. Half amused, half serious. Very Thalia.
"Getting some air. Non-divine air, if possible," I said, shrugging.
"Knew they'd rope you into this eventually," she added with a half-smile.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Not even a restraining order could've saved me."
We sat in silence for a second, and then, without thinking, I blurted:
"Wanna go grab a cheeseburger?"
Thalia blinked. "A cheeseburger?"
"Yeah, hear me out. Remember the Battle of Manhattan? You said that when it was all over, we'd go get cheeseburgers. You, me, and Annabeth. Well, I don't forget that kind of sacred promise. Burgers are important."
She laughed. And for a moment, it felt like we were back at camp. No gods. No politics. No looming divine war.
"I can't believe you remembered that," she said, still chuckling.
"Don't underestimate me. I have priorities."
"So what's your plan?"
"We sneak out for an hour. Head down to the mortal world, find a decent place, sit down, order a giant cheeseburger... and pretend Olympus isn't about to lose it."
"Tempting," she said, standing up. "I'm not gonna say no to a cheeseburger."
And so, while the names kept echoing in the arena, while gods whispered about alliances and the tension built like sea foam before a storm, Thalia and I went on a totally unauthorized cheeseburger run. One hour. One burger. One moment of peace in the middle of all this madness.
Because yeah—I'm Percy Jackson. Champion of Apollo, son of Poseidon, world-saver, bla bla... but right now?
I'm just a guy seriously craving a cheeseburger.
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Percy appears to add sarcasm to the divine cospiration (to collect traumas). Also, Percy and Thalia for me are so siblings coded.