William walked into his cabin, sighing. "that was a rough day..." he murmured. "Oh." someone replies. He looks up and sees Mateo looking through his things. "what are you doing?!" He demanded, surprised that such a gentle soul like Mateo would steal. 

"I-I'm sorry. i needed to borrow some tools and i was too afraid to ask and-" Mateo stammered. "You want to make a music box?" William was confused. "Not a music box. A sculpture. i know i am usually good at painting but i had an idea and-" Mateo stopped before he flooded with words. "uh.. yeah.. also.. what's on your mind?" The artist noticed William's frown. "Things around here are starting to repeat. Not exactly like the myths.. but similarly.. Remember when Alex caused Liling's inability to talk because of a stupid thing? Reminds me of what Hera did to Echo. When Dashawn and Thiago succeeded where Orpheus and Eurydice failed? Do you see? They are rewriting.. I'm just worried that we won't have our own tales to tell." William said.

"I'm sure we still have our own tales to tell. The halfblood hill! The chosen 7! The tale of Annie Briar! All tales from the demigods that once resided at this camp! Trust me. My project is about honoring the past rather than worrying about the future." Mateo said. "Well, what is it?" William asked. "Let me show you.." Mateo smiled.