Luke stood at the edge of the River Styx. Yes, yes boy. I will give you ruler ship. The gods will pay for what they did to us. For what they did to 'her'. Kronos always edged him on like this.
"Kid, let me show you what's in store for you if you do this," The ghost of Achilles waved his hand.
"You're not Luke. I don't know you anymore." A familiar voice he couldn't place whispered. His mind reeled into a picture of him on the ground, beaten and broken. But what should have killed him didn't. He got up.
Next, he was on the floor, a knife in his side. He was being burned into ashes, almost incinerated by the feeling. He was dead.
But if he was immortal how could he die? It didn't matter to him. He was angry. At the gods, at Chiron for acting like everything was ok. He was even angry at Thalia, for dying willingly, for leaving him.
"You're future is a life of eternal punishment kid. That's what this'll get you."
But there's nothing he could show Luke that was deeper than his pride. He was going to fight. He was determined to be remembered as the defeater of the gods.
"Let me" Luke stood up tall "Let me at immortality."
Achilles explained that he would have to think of one spot to keep him anchored to the human world.
So as Luke dove into the Styx, the first memory that came to mind was Thalia. It was winter. Thalia was cuddling into his side because he had built the worst shelter possible. His left side.