The amphitheater was packed with campers. It was unusual for everyone to be required at once, but an announcement had gone out: the new activities director, who would be replacing Chiron, would be making their first appearance.
There was only a minute left before the appointed time, yet stragglers from the Hermes cabin still filtered in, whispering excitedly.
Then came the sound of heavy boots.
Heavy. Echoing through the amphitheater like war drums.
He stepped into the center with neither flourish nor fanfare. His armor was forged of blackened iron and silver, dented and scored not from neglect, but from battle. His eyes were void of warmth, pale and sharp as polished steel.
His presence silenced the campers immediately. His aura radiated a restrained bloodlust that made many bow their heads to avoid his gaze.
Chiron stood off to the side, quiet. His lower half shifted uncomfortably, hooves scraping the stone. He had said his part the night before and remained now only to observe.
The campers looked on, unsure whether to bow or bolt.
The man glanced skyward, then down again. When he finally spoke, his voice was made of iron.
"Close the gates, Argus. Any campers not present have violated orders. They will report for punishment after dinner."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"SILENCE!" His voice slammed into the amphitheater like thunder.
The murmurs died instantly.
"I am Kratos, god of force," the god declared, voice cold and edged with contempt. "I have been sent by Lord Zeus to be your new Activities Director. Chiron will remain as trainer. But all authority, all rules, all orders now pass through me."
"I will ensure strict adherence to Olympus' laws," Kratos continued. "There will be no tolerance for disruption. No patience for rebellion."
As he said this, his eyes locked on Lucas. Everyone understood the message.
Then he turned and walked away without another word.
And Camp Half-Blood began to change.
...
At the Archery Range
Lee Fletcher of the Apollo cabin stood with a bow half-drawn, instructing a younger sibling on stance.
"A basic stance requires you to stand straight, feet shoulder-width apart and relax your shoulders."
As Lee watched, he carefully adjusted the body of his sibling, arranging it so the stance felt more natural.
"Like that, now breathe. Breathing is very important-"
"You there," Kratos said, pointing. "Your spine is far too bent. Fix it."
Lee blinked. "They're only eight. We're working on-"
Kratos stepped forward, seized the bow and snapped into a stance so stiff it looked painful.
"War has no patience for weakness. Hold like this or don't hold at all."
He tossed the bow back. The child dropped it, trembling.
"Throwing Camp equipment, damaging it. Occupying training fields but not training. Report to the big house after dinner for your punishment."
"Throwing camp equipment. Damaging tools. Occupying space without progress. Report to the Big House after dinner."
Lee clenched his jaw as Kratos moved on. "Mr. D's is kinder than that guy."
...
At the Climbing Wall
Chris Rodriguez of the Hermes cabin groaned as the lava trap reset for the third time that morning. "Can we maybe get a second to breathe between resets?"
"Real enemies don't pause," Kratos said flatly. "Climb it again."
What had once been a fun, competitive game had turned into a strict military drill. The Hermes cabin was already exhausted. The Stoll brothers had spoken up earlier and earned double climbs for their trouble.
By the time they were dismissed, three campers had minor burns and one had left in tears.
Kratos didn't blink.
...
At the Forge
The Hephaestus cabin noticed the shift immediately.
Kratos held a pair of daggers. "Whose are these?"
The blacksmiths exchanged nervous looks before Beckendorf stepped forward. "They're for Lucas. Custom fit."
Kratos frowned.
"Daggers are secondary weapons. They serve best in support roles. A waste of bronze."
He dropped them back onto the table, denting the polished edge.
His attention caught on a nearby spear.
"Whose weapon is this?"
"Mine," Beckendorf said, stepping forward again. "It's a prototype. A scythe-spear hybrid."
Kratos turned it in his hands. "Blade isn't centered. Balance is flawed."
"It's supposed to curve-"
"Then it's not a spear," Kratos said. "You forge for war, not dreams. No more prototypes. No unauthorized use of bronze. If you require materials, you will request my approval."
He turned and walked out.
One camper whispered, "Would it kill him to blink?"
...
Elsewhere at Camp
Lucas and Annabeth were walking the path toward the training circle when it happened.
A shift in pressure. Like the air thickened.
Then Kratos appeared, blocking their path.
"You are the child of Hecate."
Lucas nodded once.
Kratos stepped closer. His voice was ice. "Zeus may tolerate you. I do not. I see rebellion before it rises. Any act of treason; any hint of defiance, and you will be in chains before you can blink."
Lucas didn't step back. "Then keep watching. I'd hate to surprise you."
They stared at each other for a breath before Kratos turned and walked away.
...
Later That Night
Cabin Eleven whispered in low voices.
"Feels like we're being punished."
"Is he even real? He doesn't blink."
"Seriously. Someone check if he has eyelids."
In the Athena cabin, the tone was more analytical.
"Kratos is all force, too rigid," Isaac muttered. "Zeus sent him here to pressure Lucas while keeping the campers in line. But the more he pushes, the more he hardens the camp against him."
Another child muttered, "Force without reason breaks."
This earned small nods from the rest of the Athena cabin.
Back in Cabin Nine, Beckendorf dropped a tool onto the bench and muttered, "He insulted my forge. My forge."
Across the room, a younger sibling added, "He threw out our entire collection of experimental designs. Said 'Innovation without discipline is chaos.'"
Beckendorf rubbed his temples. "He's going to make half the campers quit. The other half are going to wish they did."