TYSON'S THE BEST THING PERCY REALIZED HE HAD IN HIS LIFE
Everyone was puzzled by the title. It was clear that Percy's appreciation for Tyson was profound, but the exact meaning of the title seemed to elude them.
(Name), Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson exchanged knowing glances, their faces a mixture of relief and understanding. Tyson's eyes crinkled into a broad smile as he absorbed the title. He wasn't one for many words, but the joy and pride in his expression spoke volumes about how much he valued his bond with Percy.
"You are in so much trouble," Clarisse said with a smug smile.
The group had just completed an unintended, eerie tour of the ship—a journey they would have gladly skipped. Dark, claustrophobic rooms had loomed around them, each corner teeming with the ghostly remains of dead sailors whose presence was felt more than seen. The air had been thick with tension, as if the ship itself were alive, groaning under the weight of its haunted history. The coal bunker was a suffocating space, filled with the lingering stench of burnt fuel that seemed to cling to their clothes and seep into their very bones. The boilers and engine had hissed and groaned ominously, each sound a reminder of the barely contained chaos beneath their feet. And then there was the pilot house, powder magazine, and gunnery deck—Clarisse's favorite, of course. Typical her, in (Name)'s opinion. Clarisse had practically skipped through the gunnery deck, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the old cannons and ammunition, while the rest of them had exchanged wary glances, half expecting one of the weapons to go off just because she was there.
The demigods hummed in agreement, nodding as they trudged along the creaky deck. Clarisse had always had a peculiar fondness for war weapons and battlefields—places where the rest of them felt an instinctive unease. It wasn't that they feared such things, but there was something about the way Clarisse thrived in those environments that set her apart. She could find joy in the clanging of swords and the boom of cannons, where the others might only find discomfort or dread.
"War weapons?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Looks like we've got a regular Bellatrix on our hands here, but, you know, on the good side now."
Bellatrix, who had been following the events closely, gave Sirius a sharp look but couldn't help a small, twisted smile. "At least she knows how to appreciate a good weapon."
Remus shook his head and chuckled, nudging Sirius. "At least she's not actively trying to curse anyone in the process. It's more of a hobby, really."
"Some hobby," Ron said, wide-eyed. "Can you imagine if we had Clarisse on our side during the Battle of Hogwarts? She'd have turned the Great Hall into a war zone—literally."
Marlene laughed and nodded. "I like her style. She's got that no-nonsense, let's-get-this-done attitude. We could've used more of that."
Meanwhile, Tyson was beaming with pride. "Clarisse is the best! She's really strong, and she knows how to make the ship go boom!"
YOU ARE READING
𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 [𝙿𝙹𝙾 𝚡 𝙷𝙿] (𝟷)
Adventureᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵈᵈᵉˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃˢᵗ, ʰᵉⁱʳᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵃʳᵗʰ, ˢᵗᵃʳˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵍⁱᶜ, ˢʰᵉ ᵇᵃˡᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ'ˢ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ, ᶠᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵘⁿⁱᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʰᵉʳᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ, ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵉʳᵍᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈˢ, ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗⁿᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵃᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗˢ, ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵐᵃʸ ᵗʷⁱˢᵗ, ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ...