You ready? Let's go
Yeah, for those of you that want to know what I'm all about
It's like this y'all

Luke stood grimly, back-to-back with Percy, surrounded by multiple attackers. He knew that Percy probably would'nt make it, but he would.

"Let's GO!"

He lashed out, knocking over warriors like a set of dominoes. One, two, three. He ran Backbiter through one kid's arm, and whirled around to attack another. Luke disarmed him with ease, and, with the point of his sword to the kid's throat, he stabbed viciously.

So much for being a child of Ares.

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name

Luke, he doesn't need his name up in lights
He just wants to be heard whether it's Castellan or right
He feels so unlike everybody else, alone
In spite of the fact that some people still think that they know him

But fuck them, he knows the code
It's not about the salary it's all about reality and makin' some noise
Makin' the story makin' sure his clique stays up
That means when he puts it down Thorn's pickin' it up, let's go

Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much
Never concerned with status but still leavin' them star struck
Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' from kickin' ass

Luke exited the cabin, and the crowd in front of him parted in respect, to let him pass. The younger demigods were staring at him in awe and respect, and a few girls were giggling at the back. But as he moved, he heard quiet murmurs, rumors of his true motives.

A few campers looked at him warily, and they shifted uncomfortably under his scrunity. Most of them did not know what he was, but could sense something about him. And as for the ones that did, well, he would just say that it was in their best interest to keep quiet, or else he would silence them forever.

Put it together himself, now the picture connects
Never askin' for someone's help, to get some respect
He's only focused on what he does, his will is beyond reach
And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist

Chiron looked worriedly at the young boy before him. He'd just escaped from home because of a family problem, and he looked grimy and tired, with his clothes in tatters like he'd been running through a demigod shredder.

"Are you all right, Luke? Why don't you tell me more about it? I can help you."

The boy stared back coldly with his icy blue eyes.

"I don't need your help."

This is twenty percent skill, eighty percent fear
Be a hundred percent clear 'cause Kronos is ill
Who would've thought he'd be the one to set the camp in flames?
And I heard him wreckin' with the crystal method, name of the game

Luke stood in the forest near Camp Half-Blood, watching the flames hungrily devour the camp. The fire was spreading rapidly, and, try as he might, Percy Jackson couldn't stop it. A feeling of satisfaction crept up his spine, and his face twisted into a sneer. The place where his hateful father had claimed him was finally burning down.

He slashed Backbiter in an arc and disappeared.

Came back, dumped Annabeth, took 'em to church
I'm like 'bleach, man, why you have the stupidest verse?
This dude is the truth, now everybody givin' him guest spots
His stock's through the roof I heard he fuckin' with half-bloods

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name

"Luke!"

"Annabeth!"

He didn't look very happy to be back.

"Luke, what's been going on? We have'nt seen you in ages! I was worried sick!"

"Annabeth, I can't do this anymore. You don't mean anything to me anymore. I'm choosing my own path in life, and you're not included. Sorry."

Call him Castellan the sick, and he's spittin' fire with might
Got him out the dryer he's hot, found him in Princess Andromeda
A fuckin' annihilist porcupine he's a prick, he's a cock
The type women want to be with and half-bloods hope he gets shot

Eight years in the makin' patiently waitin' to blow
Now the deal with the King Titan's takin' over the globe
He's got a partner in crime, her shit is equally dope
You won't believe the kind of shit that comes out of this kid's throat

"Luke Castellan."

Percy was trembling with rage.

Luke smirked.

"I've got other business to attend to, Jackson, but I think you'd like to meet an old friend."

"Kelli?"

Percy uncapped Riptide, and the sword grew to its full length.

"Oh, Percy. What are you going to do without the clear-sighted mortal girl this time?" Kelli laughed, flickering between her disguise as a beautiful cheerleader and her true form, the empousa.

"Hi-yah! Back! Back away from Percy, you…you vampire-goat!"

Thalia ran through the woods, as Aegis sprang out from her wrist. Kelli reeled back, shocked, but then Thalia paused, her eyes resting on Luke.

"Luke? How could you do this?"

She stared, dumbstruck, at the tall boy in front of her.

"Please, don't do this! Remember…"

"Stop staring at him, Pinecone Face! Attack already!"

Percy swung at the empousa as tears slowly coursed down Thalia's face.

Luke, he's not your everyday on the block
He knows how to work with what he's got
Makin' his way to the top
People think it's a common owner's name
People keep askin' him was it given at birth
Or does it stand for an acronym?

No, he's livin' proof got him rockin' the booth
He'll get you buzzin' quicker than a shot of vodka with juice
Him and his crew are known around as one of the best
Dedicated to what they doin', give a hundred percent

"Huh, funny name," said Travis, "is it an acronym or something?"

Luke shook his head. "No, I'm just Luke."

Forget Luke, nobody really knows how or why he works so hard
It seems like he's never got time
Because he fights every hope and he fights every crime
And I've seen him at work when that light goes on in his mind

It's like a design is written in his head every time
Before he even touches a key or speaks in a rhyme
And those motherfuckers he runs with, those kids that he owned
Ridiculous, without even tryin', how does he do it?

Luke smiled. The memories from Camp Half-blood were too good to last. But he let himself relive them one last time before he saved the world.

Annabeth and Thalia running beside him as they played capture the flag.

Annabeth's blonde hair glimmering in the sunlight as she spun around and attacked another enemy.

Thalia as she blasted the enemy with a web of blue lightning.

Percy Jackson, defeating Annabeth in his first game of capture the flag.

"I'm ready."

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name

I am Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, and I serve no one but myself.

Remember the name.