This fic takes place when Percy and Annabeth are twelve. Luke is not the lightening Thief. This is happening instead.
Before:
It was particularly cruel, he thought, that the gods would punish them in this way. Just like the gladiators, or so they'd been told; glory, riches, invincibility. But most of all, most importantly, they'd win their freedom. Luke knew the truth. He was there when it was decided. Wearing a borrowed hat and clutching a stolen sword, he heard. Everything. The demi-gods were becoming too powerful, too organised. The gods were becoming too dependent, delegating too much power. Luke heard. And Luke listened. And there was nothing he could do about it.