𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐋¹ || 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐋𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕

✦ 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 ✦

IN THE DIMLY LIT SPACE OF THE APOLLO CABIN, Aurora lay asleep, her face twisted in distress. The gentle rise and fall of her chest betrayed the turmoil within her mind. The air around her seemed heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that hinted at the gravity of her dream.

Aurora found herself in a place that felt unsettlingly familiar yet foreign— a realm cloaked in darkness.

The inky blackness pressed in on her from all sides, suffocating and thick like a fog. It was an oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow all light, leaving her with a feeling of isolation.

As she tried to make sense of her surroundings, Aurora realized she was not standing on solid ground. Instead, she was immersed in a thick, viscous substance that clung to her skin and clothes. It felt corrosive, burning like acid, sending waves of agonizing pain coursing through her body.

Struggling to stay afloat in this nightmarish landscape, Aurora thrashed around, her movements growing more frantic as she tried to escape the suffocating grasp of the dark liquid. Every thrash and kick only seemed to pull her deeper into the murky depths, as if the substance itself was alive and malevolent.

Amidst her panic, Aurora felt an unusual sensation— a gentle tug at the small of her lower back.

It was a fleeting touch, but it carried a profound weight, a sense of urgency that cut through the haze of her fear. The tugging continued, rhythmic and insistent, pulling her towards something or someone with a silent plea.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the dream shifted, the darkness fading away to be replaced by a blinding light. Before she was fully roused from her nightmare, a single word echoed in her ears, whispering like a haunting refrain: "Percy."

With a gasp, Aurora jolted awake, her heart pounding against her chest, her body drenched in sweat.

The vividness of the dream— the pain, the darkness, the tug on her back— left her shaken, a lingering unease settling deep within her soul.

Aurora sat up abruptly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to shake off the remnants of her haunting vision.

The weight of realization settled upon her like a heavy shroud, pulling her back into a state of deep contemplation. Her gaze darted around the familiar surroundings of her cabin, yet all she could see was the dark, swirling waters of the river.

The River Styx.

The name echoed in her mind, sending a chill down her spine.

One of the five sacred rivers that wound its way through the Underworld, separating the realm of the living from that of the dead. A river steeped in ancient myths and legends, its waters possessing the power to bestow invulnerability upon those who bathed in it, yet also carrying a curse that could bring about a fate 'worse than death' to those who failed to honor their oaths made by its banks.