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CHAPTER FOUR "𝙀𝙡𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥, 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙩!"
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*ೃ༄꒰ঌ ໒꒱*ೃ༄
ELOISES POV
Sirens wailed, piercing the air as a crowd gathered to witness the destruction of the arch. Smoke hung heavily, mingling with the murmurs of dismay from onlookers.
The chaos stemmed from Percy's foolish act, sacrificing himself needlessly. A gesture I found utterly wasteful. I hadn't needed saving, and Percy should have remained with the others. Now, he might be gone, perhaps even dead.
But then doubt crept in. Could Percy, despite his occasional clumsiness in combat, have survived? Perhaps there was a chance.
I've seen Percy fight during capture the flag, his actions were quick, sloppy— but quick.
Amidst the turmoil, my attention was quickly drawn to three elderly women seated on a bench, knitting intently. Their presence seemed out of place, yet their gaze lingered on me, unnervingly.
Ignoring Grover's mutterings, my focus remained fixed on the trio. One of them snipped a thread with scissors, their eyes still locked onto mine.
