Waking up to the sound of screaming isn't new for me. The first few times it happened, I'd bolt upright, heart hammering and drenched in sweat. Now, it's more like an inconvenience, part of the joy of being the son of Morpheus, god of dreams. But tonight is different. This time, the screams aren't coming from a nightmare.
They're real—and they're coming from outside.
I leap out of bed, my camp shirt sticking to me from the humidity of the late summer night. Before I'm even fully dressed, I'm at the window, staring out into the darkness. Camp Half-Blood is usually calm at this hour, with only the occasional sound of a harpy flying overhead or some demigod sneaking out for a midnight snack.
But now? The whole camp feels… off. And then I see it.
A shadow, much too large to be anything normal, moving through the camp. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I grab my spear and rush out of my cabin. My heart is racing, and every instinct is telling me that something is very wrong.
The second I step outside, it's like the air has changed. The usual calm breeze that drifts from the forest feels thicker, charged with something I can't quite describe. It's the same oppressive weight I felt earlier when Eris confronted me in Central Park. Only this time, it's stronger—more ancient.
I spot Percy near the dining pavilion, standing with Annabeth and a few other campers, their weapons drawn. They're looking at something—or someone—at the center of camp.
I jog over, feeling the tension in the air tighten around me with every step. "What's going on?" I ask, breathless as I reach them.
Percy glances at me, his expression grim. "I don't know yet, but whatever it is, it's not good."
He points, and I follow his gaze to the massive figure standing in the middle of the campfire area. At first, I think it's just another trick of the shadows. But then the figure shifts, stepping into the light of the moon, and my heart nearly stops.
It's not just a shadow—it's a god.
Standing in the center of Camp Half-Blood is Thanatos, the god of death himself.
He's tall—taller than any mortal could ever be—and draped in a dark robe that seems to ripple like the night sky. His skin is pale as bone, and his eyes… his eyes are like two black holes, drawing in every ounce of light and warmth around them. The air feels colder just from his presence, like a void of life and color is seeping into the camp.
"What's he doing here?" Annabeth mutters, her hand tight on the hilt of her dagger. "Gods don't just visit camp unannounced."
I swallow hard. Thanatos isn't exactly the social type. He doesn't just stroll into places for casual conversation. Wherever he goes, it's usually a prelude to something bad—really bad.
"Thanatos!" Chiron's voice booms across the camp as he gallops toward the god, flanked by a few of the senior campers. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"
Thanatos turns his head slowly, his gaze settling on Chiron, then drifting to the rest of us. His voice, when he speaks, is deep and hollow, like the final echo before a door slams shut. "I come with a warning."
A collective shiver runs through the group. Warnings from gods like Thanatos? Never a good sign.
"The balance of life and death is unraveling," Thanatos continues, his voice devoid of emotion. "The threads of mortality are fraying. Dreams, nightmares, and the fabric of the living world are beginning to bleed into one another. Eris has set things in motion, and if her chaos is not contained, the line between life and death will cease to exist."
I feel my throat tighten. Chaos. Eris. This is about me. Or at least, I have a part in whatever's happening.
Annabeth steps forward, her brows furrowed in concern. "What can we do? How do we stop her?"
Thanatos's gaze shifts to me, and my blood runs cold. "It is not something that can be stopped," he says, his eyes boring into mine. "Not unless those with the power to shape dreams learn to control the forces that are stirring."
My breath catches in my throat. He's talking about me. This whole mess with Eris, the way she's been using my dreams—my powers—it's all connected. And now, it's spiraling out of control.
"Wait," Percy says, stepping between me and Thanatos, "you're saying Myke has to fix this? How?"
Thanatos doesn't answer directly. Instead, he raises a hand, and suddenly the entire camp shifts, like the very world around us is bending. The sky above darkens, and in the blink of an eye, we're no longer standing in Camp Half-Blood. We're in a vast, endless field of gray—somewhere between reality and a dream.
"Whoa," Percy mutters, looking around. "What just happened?"
"We are in the realm of dreams," Thanatos says, his voice still eerily calm. "A place where nightmares and reality intertwine. This is where Eris is drawing her power. And this is where you must face her."
The field stretches out endlessly in all directions, shifting and morphing with every glance. Shadows flicker at the edges of my vision, and I can feel the weight of a thousand different dreams pressing in on me. It's overwhelming, like trying to walk through a storm of emotions and thoughts all at once.
"You cannot fight chaos in the waking world," Thanatos continues. "Here, in the dreamscape, you have a chance. But you must act soon."
I look at Percy and Annabeth. They're counting on me. The whole camp is. But how am I supposed to stop a goddess like Eris in a place where nothing makes sense?
Thanatos's form begins to fade, dissolving into the swirling mists around us. "You are the son of Morpheus," he says, his voice growing faint. "Control the dream, or be consumed by it."
And just like that, he's gone, leaving us standing alone in the middle of this twisted dreamscape.
I take a deep breath, gripping my spear tightly. "So, no pressure or anything, right?"
Percy smirks, though there's an edge of unease in his voice. "Just another day in the life of a demigod."
"Except this time," Annabeth adds, scanning the horizon, "the dream might actually kill us."