For Sophy, via the Gift Giving Extravaganza. Enjoy, my love.

At first light, he decides he can't take it anymore. He's been staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, too scared to fall back asleep. As quietly as possible, careful not to wake the others in the cabin, Luke climbs out of bed, tiptoeing to the door.

Even the Apollo crew aren't up yet, and they're known to be the earliest risers. Luke sighs in relief. At least he won't have to worry about Will or his siblings trying to make small talk.

Luke massages his temple as he walks. He can still feel it, the searing pain in his head heralding the chilling whisper of the Titan Lord.

Rejected by your own father. The gods have never cared for their offspring, child.

In spite of the warm summer breeze, Luke shivers. He wants to tell himself that it was just a dream, but he knows better. Dreams are never so simple for demigods. Kronos isn't just some shadow hiding under his bed, some little imaginary monster. If the Titan Lord is speaking to him in his dreams, it can't mean anything good.

You will make an excellent lieutenant. You will wage my war and bring me back to my glory. Together, we will destroy Mount Olympus. We will have our revenge on the gods, little servant.

Luke comes to a stop at Thalia's tree and falls to his knees, leaning forward, his head resting against the trunk. "If only you were here," he whispers, and he wonders if Thalia can still hear him. "You'd know what to do."

He shakes his head, remembering what Kronos had said about waging war. Maybe it's best that Thalia isn't here. As a child of Zeus, she would be nothing but another pawn in the game.

"Father," he calls. "If you can hear me, now would be a good time to show yourself. I need a little guidance."

At first, there is nothing. Then, footsteps, too swift to be human. Luke can hardly dare to hope. Hermes, as a messenger of the gods, could walk with that speed, he's sure.

But when he looks up, he's greeted by a chattering polecat. Luke groans. Ask for the gods, get a wild animal. It's no wonder he's long since stopped believing that the gods are listening.

"That's hardly the attitude to take," a woman's voice calls out, and Luke jumps to his feet, drawing his sword.

The woman is lovely in her own way. Dark hair to her shoulders, an ageless face, pale and cold as marble. Her black robes seem to swirl around her, as though they are made of smoke. She carries herself proudly with an almost regal air, shoulders thrown back and head high.

"Who are you?" he demands.

The woman smirks. "I always found it quite funny that a Titaness was reduced to a minor goddess," she muses, and the polecat hisses. "Enough, Gale. He can hardly help that there is little mention of me. I can forgive his ignorance today."

Luke takes a step back. He doubts he can outrun a goddess. Really, he hopes that he won't need to.

"I am Hecate," she says. "And you are at a crossroad."

"I'm at a tree…"

The goddess rolls her eyes, clearly not amused with his statement. "Crossroads don't have to be physical. You are at a point where your decision can greatly change the world, Luke," she says patiently. "I felt that it would be a terrible thing to let you make that choice uninformed."

Luke shivers. He wonders how she could know about Kronos, about the choice he is faced with. Maybe he doesn't want to know. Hecate might not be as well known as the Olympians, but he knows enough to know that she can be fearsome. He doesn't want to chance prying into her mind and offending the goddess of witchcraft.

"And you've come to inform me, then," he guesses. "I have two choices, and neither seem too pleasant."

"Three," she corrects. "When you reach a crossroad, you have three choices, at the very least."

"So, what are my choices?"

She raises her hand, gesturing wildly. Around her, Mist swirls, forming a gate. "Perhaps it is best to show," she says simply. "Actions have consequences, Luke. Know that yours are no exception, and your decision will greatly change the outcome of this war."

Luke stares uncertainly at the gate. Beyond it, he can see a blur of images, but nothing concrete. Gale, the polecat makes an irritable sound before thudding against his leg. He may not be able to speak polecat, but the message is clear. Move forward, you idiot. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he steps forward, greeted by himself as he is now, shrouded in shadow, making his way to the woods.

Annabeth grabs his hand. "You can't be serious, Luke," she insists.

He groans. He hadn't wanted this confrontation. He had wanted to slip off into the night without any goodbyes.

"Don't do this, Luke."

He can see the sadness in her eyes. He knows that she has a crush on him for ages, and he's all that she has left from her time before the camp. Maybe he's even grown fond of her, too. She isn't Thalia, but she's kind and good. "You could come with me," he says. "Trust me, Annabeth. You aren't going to want to be here when things hit."

"When what hits? What aren't you telling me?"

Luke sighs and turns his gaze to the sky. Gods, he can't tell her. She's still just a kid. If she knows the truth… "Come with me, and I'll tell you everything. I promise."

She shakes her head. "This is my home, Luke. I'm not leaving."

He leans down and kisses her forehead. "Maybe we'll meet again," he says, but he doesn't really believe it.

…

He watches the news about the storm raging across the country. The mortals can't see what's really on the screen, but he's long since been able to see beyond the Mist. He watches as Typhon knocks gods away left and right.

"The storm is expected to reach New York within the next forty-eight hours," the reporter says.

He closes his eyes. It's good that he got out. He only hopes that Annabeth will be okay.

…

He's older now, in his twenties. His sword still rests at his side, but he rarely has need to draw his weapon. Monsters still come, but they are a smaller problem these days, little more than the occasional annoyance.

Luke adjusts his tie and takes a deep breath as he enters the office.

"Do you have any experience in the hotel business?"

He thinks back to the Hermes Cabin, all those stray demigods that he helped to care for. He has years of experience showing hospitality to strangers without a home. "Nothing professionally," he admits. "But I've helped run camp cabins, and I'm willing to learn the ropes."

The hotel owner nods, looking down at his notebook and scribbling something that Luke cannot read. "The hotel industry can be rather competitive."

A grin twists his lips. Best sword fighter at Camp Half-Blood. Skilled strategist in capture the flag (mostly thanks to Annabeth and her siblings). "I'm not a stranger to competition, Mr. Lack," he assures him.

…

His father leaves him a message from Annabeth. Luke hesitates. He wants to read it, to know that she's okay, to tell her about his new life.

Instead, he tosses it in a junk drawer. He doesn't think he can take the pain. He's chosen his path. He's made the mortal world his home. There's no point in clinging to the past, to a world he has turned his back on.

He hopes that Annabeth will understand.

…

"Luke, a word, please."

Luke swallows dryly. Mr. Lack never requests private meetings with staff unless it's something serious. In his six years at the hotel, Luke hasn't been back in the office since his interview.

He follows him inside, trying to think of anything he's done wrong. He hasn't been late. He hasn't had any formal complaints. He's worked the front desk with nothing but efficiency and dedication.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase, my boy," Mr. Lack says as Luke sits across from him. "I've been keeping an eye on you."

"Have you, sir?" Luke asks nervously.

"I have. One of the finest workers I've seen in nearly thirty years," his boss says with a proud smile. "I had my doubts at first. You were young, and youth often breaks under pressure. But you proved me wrong."

"Thank you, sir."

"How would you feel about a management position?"

Luke smiles. It's the same feeling he had when Chiron made him the Hermes Cabin counselor. A flutter of excitement ripples through his body, and he feels like a teenager again.

"I'd be delighted."

"Excellent. I'll have Fran start your training on Monday. Keep this up, and maybe you'll be running this place one day."

…

He's in his forties. Streaks of white pepper his hair, and years of hard work have lined his face, but still he smiles. He moves through the hotel and into the head office- his office.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. C," Mandy, the receptionist says, knocking on the door. "There's a Travis Stoll here. Says he's your brother."

Luke nods. "Send him in," he instructs.

A moment later, she's replaced by his long lost half-brother. Though he's aged just as much as Luke, Travis still has the same mischievous glint in his eyes that lends him a childlike air.

"I will have security search you the second you leave this room," Luke says calmly.

Travis grins. "Would I steal from my own brother?"

"How's my favorite Pink Floyd shirt?" Luke counters. "The one you stole when I was sleeping. Right off my back."

"Ouch. Old grudges hurt," he says with a grin. The light expression quickly changes, as though Travis has just remembered something. "We've been trying to find you for years, man. Dad knew where you were, of course. But you know how the gods are. He wouldn't help us directly because you didn't want to be found. We thought it would be best that you know…"

"Know what?" Luke demands, uneasy.

"It's Thalia's tree. No one knows what happened exactly. But, well…" He trails off, pushing a hand nervously through his hair. "It's been uprooted. Zeus was furious. I'm sure you remember the freak lightning storms over Manhattan a few years back."

He vaguely remembers a guest with a distinct Queens accent mentioning storms back home, but he had tuned it out. "I stopped keeping up with New York and the gods a long time ago," he admits. "Too many memories, too much pain."

Travis winces. "I mean. It's only your family. Why would you bother wanting to keep an eye on us?" he asks, and Luke wishes that Travis, the goofy boy with the crooked smile, the boy who never knows how to be serious, hadn't sounded so hurt.

Luke slumps back in his chair, eyes closing. "You should probably go," he says, uncomfortable. I'll put you up in a room if you need, free of charge. Just… let me be alone for a moment."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he says quietly before leaving and closing the door behind him.

And Luke realizes that it's the first time that he's ever heard Travis sound so genuine, and he believes that his brother really is sorry.

…

He's seventy. The streaks in his hair have taken over, and there's no color left. His smile has long since faded. Those who used to boast of his warmth and kindness now glance nervously at him and whisper their theories in hushed voices.

"It all changed when his brother came to visit, I hear."

"Bet you anything a woman broke his heart. Only thing that can change a man like that."

"I hear he hits the bottle these days."

Luke sits in his office. He should have retired by now, but he can't bring himself to do it. This hotel is all that he has left, his last hope for something worthwhile.

He pulls the photo album out of his bag, looking over each page with a fresh pain in his chest. Frame after frame, Thalia grins up at him.

"I should have been there," he whispers. "Thalia, I'm so sorry."

…

His body is weaker, and it takes several moments for his eyes to open when he hears movement in the hospital room.

"You went into the hotel business," Hermes says, appearing at his side.

"Son of the god of travelers," Luke says, his voice thin. "I guess I take after my dad."

Hermes takes his hand with a sad smile. "I'm proud of you."

"I used to hate you," Luke whispers. "I resented you for making me choose my own path, for not guiding me. But I've made peace with that over the years. If you had intervened, who knows what could have happened."

"Were you happy?"

"Mostly. I've lived a long life for a demigod."

The world feels strange on his tongue. It's a title he hasn't claimed in decades.

"That's all a father wants for his children."

"It's almost over, isn't it?"

Hermes checks his watch. "Twelve minutes left. I asked the god of death to let me be with you before-"

Luke nods. Somehow, he isn't afraid.

Rats, George says. What sort of hospital doesn't have any rats.

A hygienic one, Martha says in annoyance.

And Luke smiles for the first time in what feels like forever.

The Mist swirls and fades. Luke topples to his knees, shaking his head. He grasps at the ground, fingers digging into grass and mud. Real, this is real. But the thing in the gate felt so real too.

He looks at Thalia's tree. It's still standing as tall and proud as the girl he loves. Seeing it now brings tears to his eyes. "Thalia," he whispers.

"That is only one possibility," the goddess says, and Luke jerks his head at her voice. He had almost forgotten Hecate is there.

"That's not a possibility," he says quietly, his attention focused on the tree.

Hecate twists the Mist again, a second gate emerging from nowhere. Luke doesn't want to move forward. He doesn't think that he can stand another glimpse into the possible future. Still, he knows that Hecate is not a goddess he wants as an enemy.

Shakily, Luke rises to his feet and steps forward. As with the first time, he's the same age.

Luke laughs to himself. Now this is a real quest, a task worthy of the god of thieves' son. Those apples had been a joke, not even worth his effort.

But this.

Luke stares in amazement at the Master Bolt. A shiver runs through him, half fear, half excitement.

If he's caught, he's dead. If he succeeds, all Hades breaks loose.

He takes a tentative step closer, bolder now. The gods are so smug, so foolish, leaving their symbols of power in the open, so certain that no one would dare touch them.

Luke grabs the bolt, and it takes everything in him not to cry out in triumph. He's done it. His master will be pleased.

…

The god of war leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. "What's to keep me from killing you myself, chump?" he asks. "Zeus didn't specify that we'd have to return the thief alive."

Luke swallows dryly. A million reasons swim through his mind, but he doesn't speak. Ares would laugh at them, call him a child.

But another voice rushes though the sea of excuses, quiet but sure. Luke opens his mouth, speaking Kronos' words. "There will be a war among the gods," he says simply. "A brilliant war, a glorious war. Help me, and it will happen."

Ares rubs his hands together menacingly. A malicious grin breaks over his brutish face. "A war, you say? I'm listening, punk."

…

No one is around. Luke makes sure of that. No one is watching. No one would ever suspect him.

The hellhound bounds forward, regarding Luke with a soft growl. "Not me. Jackson," he orders.

The hound snarls before disappearing.

…

He watches as Annabeth leaves with the boy and the satyr. Part of Luke is grateful that his master's plan is unfolding. The other part, however, wishes that Annabeth hadn't gotten mixed up in all of it.

…

They return to a cheering crowd. Luke keeps his distance, watching with cold eyes. His master will be furious.

…

"I don't know," Silena says softly.

Luke moves closer. Aphrodite girls are so easy. Smile just right, and their little hearts become putty. "You'll save a lot of lives," he says, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

She hesitates, biting her lip. "Okay."

Luke places the scythe necklace around her neck. "Think of it as a pretty little accessory," he says. "My gift to you."

"But why will I need to pass information? You'll be here, won't you?"

"Not for very much longer."

…

He has to be careful. One wrong move, and he will be caught. Luke cannot afford to fail his master again. The nightmares that Kronos sends as punishment always leave him feeling broken.

"I'm so sorry, Thalia," he whispers, and for a moment he's almost tempted to pray to the gods.

The bottle of venom trembles in his hand, the liquid splashing against the glass haphazardly. Thalia would be on his side. How many times had they cursed the gods together while on the run? She would praise Luke for his courage. She would stand by his side.

…

He hardly dares to breathe as Thalia appears. It would be so easy to grab her and run. But Annabeth is already at her side. Annabeth has already made it clear that she will not join him, and Luke can't bring himself to fight her.

"Someone get Chiron!" Annabeth calls, cradling Thalia in her arms. "Get him now!"

Luke disappears into the shadows, smiling to himself. He can't get to Thalia. Not yet, at least. But she will be his.

…

He isn't surprised when it works. Annabeth may be the daughter of Athena, but her emotions still cloud her wisdom when those she loves are involved. She takes the burden from him without question.

"You've done well," Atlas tells him. "The goddess will take the bait soon enough."

"Luke, please!" Annabeth cries, and he can't bring himself to look at her. "Please, it's crushing me."

"It will be over soon, Annabeth," he says, still looking pointedly away from her.

…

He can see the anger in Thalia's eyes as she corners him. Luke was so sure that she would be at his side. After all that time, sharing their anger, cursing the gods, and she's chosen to be their pawn. She has him at a dead end, her spear raises and ready.

"Is that what you want?" he demands. "To go back to your dad in triumph?"

His words hit a nerve, and he can see it. Luke holds his head high, waiting for the killing blow. But it doesn't come. For one swift moment, he thinks that her anger will be enough, that she will realize she's being used and join him.

But, quick as a flash, she strikes, not with her spear, but with her foot. It collides with his body painful, and Luke loses his footing, falling backwards off the cliff.

..

"What happened to Zeus' daughter?" he asks.

Kelli makes a face. "Joined the Hunters of Artemis," she sneers.

He closes his eyes. She had rejected them once. Thalia had never admitted it, but they both knew it was because of him. Now, he supposes, he doesn't matter anymore. She is no longer bound by her love for him.

It stings to know that she's lost her feelings, but Luke knows that he deserves so much worse.

And yet, in spite of the pain, he sighs in relief. At least it won't be Thalia that he has to face in the end.

…

"Turn back. You do not wish to carry my fate," Achilles says as Luke approaches the River Styx.

Luke scoffs, ignoring him. He has to focus, and the bitter spirit isn't helping.

"Your failures and weaknesses will grow, just as your prowess in battle," Achilles continues, not seeming to take a hint.

"I have to do this!" Luke snaps, clenching his fists. "It's the only way!"

"Let the gods witness that I've tried, as is my duty to all who undergo this foolish route. If you must do this, concentrate on your mortal point, the one place on your body that will remain vulnerable. This spot will be where your mortal soul anchors to the body. It will be your greatest weakness, but also your greatest hope. The River Styx will destroy you if you lose sight of what keeps your mortal."

And then he's gone.

Luke shifts uncomfortably. His mortal point, the part that anchors his soul. What keeps him mortal?

The answer comes to him in an instant. Startling blue eyes, dark hair, and a scowl that can strike fear into even the bravest of hearts. He smiles to himself, focusing on a spot under his left arm as he steps into the river.

He knew it would be painful, but he isn't prepared for what feels like lava splashing against him from all angles. Luke grits his teeth. For a second, he loses focus and falls under the water.

"Be careful!"

He recognizes that voice, but it makes no sense. How could Thalia be down here? How can he hear her through the roar of the current?

Her face becomes clear in his mind. She's exactly as he remembers her from when they first met. Fierce, beautiful, and angry. She smiles at him. "Hold on, Luke. Just hold on. You've got this!"

And suddenly, the River Styx doesn't seem so bad. Suddenly, he doesn't feel the pain.

The cord beneath his arm feels stronger now as memories come flooding back to him.

Thalia, scowling as Luke steals a French fry.

Thalia, laughing and protesting as he snaps a photo of her without her notice.

Thalia and Annabeth, gesturing him closer as they sit in the park, a picnic prepared.

Luke emerges on the shore, gasping for breath.

...

He is not himself anymore, and yet his face is still the same as he lays sleeping.

The boy with the sea green eyes, Percy, approaches, and Luke rises, though he has no control of his body. Maybe part of him wants to stop this. Annabeth would never forgive him.

You've already lost your chance at redemption, Kronos whispers in his head.

A girl appears, someone that Luke doesn't recognize with frizzy red hair. She reaches, and he almost thinks that the mortal is armed until she pulls out a blue hairbrush. Even trapped inside this shell, Luke wants to laugh. Not many would dare to face the Titan Lord with a hairbrush.

She slings it, and it hits Luke in the eye with a surprising force. Now, for just a flickering second, Luke is in control, and he does laugh.

…

The explosion should have killed him. If he was still just weak demigod, it would have. But Kronos keeps him alive.

"The son of Poseidon has escaped," Kronos says through Luke's body.

There's no way he could have survived that, Luke argues.

"We are at sea, you idiot. The sea god has taken him."

Luke takes in the wreckage around them. He thinks of the boy, Charles, who had set off the explosion and sacrificed himself. Charles, who he had known at camp. Charles, who had been kind to everyone. Charles, who Luke had called a friend. And now he's nothing but ash and maybe a few floating chunks.

Not for the first time, Luke feels the tendrils of regret wrapping around his mind.

…

Around him, Mount Olympus is in ruins. The throne room won't last much longer. But he is awake again.

He looks from Percy to Annabeth, frowning. Thalia should be there. His heart races. He wants to ask them where she is, but there isn't much time. He can only hold Kronos at bay for so long, and this could be their only shot. His body is burning away from the inside, and he knows that he won't last much longer.

He watches the exchange, the dagger passed from Annabeth to Percy. He knows what has to be done. In order to defeat Kronos. In order to offer Thalia hope. His fingers curl around the dagger.

He considers asking them to give Thalia a message for him, his last words. But if he wasted his final breath on something mushy and sweet, Thalia would probably chase him into Hades just to run him through for being a sappy idiot.

Luke stumbles out, his heart in his throat. It takes longer to regain his senses this time. He dies, in the end. He overcomes Kronos. He dies at his own hand, on his own terms.

And yet his fate means so little to him.

"Thalia?"

"She lives," Hecate says. "Her life among the Hunters is a long one. Not always happy, but full and free."

Luke massages his temples with a groan. Thalia could come back. She would hate him, but she would live. That has to count for something.

"You said there was a third option," he whispers. "Neutrality, the Titans… What else?"

"Are you sure that you wish to see it? The Mist seems to have touched your mind. You look rather weak," the goddess murmurs, though there is no concern in her voice, only detached curiosity.

Luke stands straight and tall, his head held high. He's seen a future where Thalia could live. His body may be weak, but his heart is strong, and he thinks that he can endure anything. "Show me," he says firmly.

Hecate nods, molding the Mist into a third gateway. Luke doesn't wait to be prompted. He steps through.

"Chiron?" Luke calls, hesitating.

The centaur rises from his chair. "Luke? Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asks.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about for a while now. I didn't know how to tell you," Luke says carefully. "It's about your father."

The mention of Kronos causes Chiron's front legs to stamp the floor restlessly. "What about him?"

"He's trying to wake, Chiron. He tried using me, and I know he has to have found someone else," Luke answers. "I thought it was over until the Master Bolt was stolen. But there was something Kronos told me. Something about starting a war among the gods."

Chiron looks troubled. Luke can hardly blame him. It isn't every day you find out that your long dead father is trying to destroy the world. "Percy, Annabeth, and Grover are already on the quest," he says quietly.

"Let's pray to the gods that they come back," Luke agrees.

…

Luke throws his arms around Annabeth when she and the others return. "You will not believe the things I saw!" she tells him excitedly.

"You'll have to tell me all about it. But first, food," Luke laughs.

…

The wood nymphs bring Percy to camp.

"What's going on?" Annabeth asks, looking to Luke.

He clenches his jaw, abandoning his sword as he jogs to keep up with the nymphs. "What happened?" he asks.

"Found him like this. Scorpion venom," the nymphs answers. "He was there with a boy. But the boy left."

"Who?"

"One of the unclaimed," a second nymph answers. "Why would he hurt this poor boy?"

Luke freezes, and his heart seems to stop. One of the unclaimed. Someone with a lot of bitterness towards the gods. Someone who Kronos could easily manipulate.

…

"So, it's true then?" Luke asks.

Chiron nods, his expression grim. "Ethan Nakamura has betrayed us," he confirms, patting Luke on the shoulder. "I know you tried to stop this, dear boy."

Luke wants to punch something. Ethan. The guy had seemed okay enough. Maybe a little angry, a little misguided, but he never would have thought that he could be capable of something like this.

…

Luke kneels beside Thalia's tree, resting his hand on the bark. The tree is dying, and with it, the girl he loves. "Fight, Thalia," he whispers. "Fight."

A yellowed pine needle falls from above, sticking in his hair. "You're strong," he says. "You aren't dying that easily."

…

"We're going after the Fleece ourselves," Percy announces. "Are you with us?"

Luke picks at the skin around his thumbnail, frowning. His own quest had been a failure. He's often dreamed of redeeming himself. But the thought of leaving camp with Thalia dying is too much for him.

"I have to stay here," he says. "I have to watch over her."

Annabeth offers him an understanding smile. She squeezes his hand. "We'll stop the poison. Don't worry."

…

Luke can hardly dare to hope. Is it really possible? Had the Fleece really worked its magic that well?

He reaches the pine tree, trying to take it all in. Campers part for him, whispering to one another as he passes.

Annabeth, in full armor, and Percy block his view, but he hears her. It's a voice he was so sure he would only ever hear in his dreams. For a moment, his lungs forget how to work.

"I'm Thalia. Daughter of Zeus."

…

"Are you in or not?" Percy asks.

Luke doesn't have to hesitate. Thalia is out there with Artemis' Hunters. They'll take care of her, of course, but he knows that they want her. She's rejected them once, and though she didn't say why, he knows that it's because of him. But will she refuse a second time?

"Let's go, Jackson," he says, returning Percy's grin.

…

Luke holds his breath as Thalia considers. Percy catches his eye, supportive in spite of his exhaustion.

"I'm not sure that I have a place with the Hunters, Lady Artemis," Thalia says at last, her eyes moving to Luke. He finally dares to breathe again. "There's someone I'm not ready to give up."

"If you change your mind-"

"I don't think that I will. Thank you for your consideration, my lady, but it's an honor I cannot accept."

…

"Come on!" he teases, easily sidestepping as she lunges at him. "I watched you back Nakamura off a cliff. You can take me."

Thalia growls, slashing her sword again, but he defects it, knocking the weapon from her hand. "Maybe it's a good thing I didn't join the Hunters," she laughs. "Being a tree has made me a bit rusty."

Luke's grin fades. "Must have been something special if you were willing to give up immortality."

"Yeah," she agrees. "You really are special."

He feels as though the world might fall away. He's known for a while, though she's never said it outright. "Thalia, I-"

She moves close, kissing him fiercely. Luke closes his eyes, trying desperately to remember the curve of her lips, the softness of her skin. And then he feels something cold and sharp pressed to his stomach, and he realizes Thalia has taken his sword.

"Shouldn't let your emotions cloud your fighting," she laughs, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away victoriously.

"I'm pretty sure that's cheating. You're not an Aphrodite kid. You can't just go around using seduction as a weapon."

"And yet I just did," she says, poking her tongue out.

Luke can't help but to smile. In that moment, he's happy again. In that moment, he's a kid again, on the run and scared of the future, but smiling because Thalia is by his side.

He takes the sword from her hand, letting it drop carelessly in the dirt before pulling her in again. He's waited for so long for this moment. He's spent years at her tree, dreaming of what could have been. And now, after so many tears and so much doubt, his dreams have become a reality.

He kisses her again, holding her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

…

She's by his side as the monster pour from the Labyrinth, a grin on her lips. "Don't worry, Luke. I'll save you a couple," she assures him, raising her shield.

"Please. I'll defeat half of them before you can even lift your spear," he counters.

"We'll see about that," she laughs, thrusting her shield outward before charging, Luke following suit.

…

"So Kronos is using Ethan as a vessel?" Thalia asks.

Percy nods, his expression grim.

Luke shivers. He still remembers the voice invading his dreams, the cold whisper calling him closer. It could have easily been him. He moves closer to Thalia, grateful to feel the gentle weight of her hand in his.

…

War is coming. Charles is making the last minute adjustments to the Princess Andromeda plan. Percy is enjoying the last few moments of normalcy. Annabeth and Chiron are discussing strategy. Camp is no longer about fun and games. It's about survival.

It's only a matter of time before all Hades breaks loose.

And yet, for just a moment, he can pretend that things are normal, that they're okay.

He sits on the pier, Thalia's hand in his. It could be their last moment of normalcy for a long time.

"I love you," she whispers.

He lifts her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. "I love you, too."

…

"Look out!"

Luke doesn't have time to react as the statue crashes toward him. His heart stops, and he tries to will his legs to move. A sudden weight knocks him out of the way, and a cry feels the air.

"Thalia!" Annabeth cries.

"Go on without me," she urges. "I'll be fine."

But one look at her, and Luke knows that it's a lie. It's a miracle that's she's still breathing. Most of her body is crushed beneath the massive marble structure.

"I'll stay with her," he tells them. "Go take care of Kronos."

Percy and Annabeth hesitate, but after a moment they go. Luke kneels beside Thalia, his hands trembling as he strokes her her hair. He could send for Will, but he doubts he would make it in time.

"I wonder if this would count as falling in battle," she laughs, the sound strained. "Guess it doesn't matter. I couldn't have had immortality anyway."

"Thalia-"

"Shh… This isn't goodbye. We'll meet again, you know. I'll meet you in Elysium."

He leans down, pressing one last kiss to her lips. When he pulls away, the light is gone from her eyes. The battle around him no longer matters. He cradles her head gently and weeps.

…

Percy and Annabeth stand by his side as he burns Thalia's shroud. "We'll meet again," Luke whispers, praying the ashes will carry his words to the Underworld. "Wait for me in Elysium."

Luke's head is spinning when the scene fades. Thalia… gone. Thalia… dead. It doesn't make sense.

"She dies."

"In battle, as she would want," Hecate says, her voice neutral, as though she is commenting on something as trivial as the weather.

Luke shakes his head, his attention in Thalia's tree. "She lives in the second one," he says quietly. "She hates me, but she's alive."

"And this is your choice?" the goddess asks.

"If it means that Thalia lives, then yes,' he answers.

Hecate nods, her face hard and unreadable. Her hands move, and the Mist reaches for Luke, tendrils curling around him. "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt," she assures him.

"What?"

"You won't remember any of this, only the decision in your heart."

"You'd know what to do," he says to Thalia's tree.

Of course, there is no answer. Thalia will never speak again. But a different voice whispers in his head, his own voice.

Kronos is the only way. It's the right thing to do.

Luke swallows dryly. He doesn't know when he made the decision, or why his certainty makes him feel sick. But somehow he knows that it's for the best. Maybe it's even Thalia's spirit guiding his heart.

"I guess that settles it, then," he says, taking a deep breath.

He knows what must be done.