𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩

Chapter X V

15
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C.C.'s Pitch Perfect Day

  (y/n) and Cyrus found their way out of the forest in a few minutes avoiding the sounds of voices.

  If they heard a sound, they'd go the opposite way, which in time led them out into docks, with a few boats. Lucky for them, (y/n) would not enter the water again in a while.

  Before they could climb inside, however, a rumble echoed through the beach. (y/n) quickly covered his stomach.

  "Hungry, are ye'?" Cyrus chuckled.

  "I haven't eaten in two days," (y/n) grumbled. "Clarisse only had peanut butter."

  "Ye'r allergic to peanuts?" Cyrus frowned.

  "Yeah, deadly. Once I ate it at school accidentally, ended up in the hospital," (y/n) hummed, sitting down on one end of the boat, while Cyrus sat on the other, picking up the paddle and pushing them away from the docks.

  "So... Ye'r tellin' me that ye'r the son of Persephone, goddess of nature, queen of the underworld, and ye' can't eat Reese's?" Cyrus blinked.

  "Well, yeah..." (y/n) shrugged. "I guess the powers mixed the wrong way. Nature kills me, instead of nature and killing."

  Cyrus looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

  "I mean—... Uh—... Forget it," (y/n) scoffed, looking off into the sea.

  Cyrus laughed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever ye' say."

  The two of them rode the boat in silence for a few minutes, before Cyrus pipped up, voice quiet, "Do ye' think... I mean... Is everyone else dead, at this point?"

  (y/n)'s breath hitched at the sudden question. He shook his head. "No... No, I know they're not. I can feel it."

  It was true. He did. He was clinging to their souls, wherever they were, feeling the rhythm of their steady heartbeats in his core, hearing the melody of them in his ears. They were alive, and he could just barely make out the direction they were in.

  "Keep going West. They're somewhere around there," (y/n) told Cyrus, looking up from the bottom of the boat.

  "If ye' say so..." Cyrus sighed, looking a lot more hopeful than before. "But even Tyson?"

  (y/n) gulped. "I—... Sorry, Cy. He's a Cyclops. Monsters don't really have souls, I can't tell."

  "And Clarisse?" Cyrus added. "Is Clarisse still alive?"

  "She's far, but, yeah, I can still feel her soul," (y/n) nodded. "Can't miss it."

  Cyrus's shoulders seemed to relax a little more from that.

🔥👑❀

  What seemed like hours later, Cyrus stopped paddling. Looking up in awe. "Is that what we're lookin' for?"

  (y/n) turned, locking eyes on a magical tropical island, the overwhelming scent of flowers and expensive products coming to his nose. "Oh, I hope so."

"Welcome!" said the lady with the clipboard.

  She looked like a flight attendant—blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  She shook the boys' hands as they stepped onto the dock. With the dazzling smile she gave them, you would’ve thought they'd just gotten off the Princess Andromeda rather than a simple wooden boat.