Moving around is hard; I sighed before pressing most of my weight on the cane. I tapped the gravel, sand under my sandals.
It's a nice morning; the air was neither cold nor warm. The morning dew sparkled on the grass, the mist was clearing. Nature was just waking up. I passed by some nymphs yawning, heard birds singing and satyrs playing. Despite my doubts, I can't deny, they make beautiful music. Chiron was right, morning walks do clear your mind. And mine's been nothing but mush from sitting around all day. After the incident, I don't get to do much. There's only so much TV you can watch before your brain leaks out of your ears. The alternative is sleep, but my dreams are a dark hellscape of eternal suffering and torment.
The memory makes me clutch my cane. It's only been a few days since I traded my crutches for it. As much as it helped me, it wasn't worth the stares, the pity, I could feel it behind my back. It made me want to gag. The once proud son of Hermes, reduced to this. Pathetic. The cane wasn't as good, but I can take the pain if it means avoiding those eyes.
I move my legs; the lag is getting shorter. I close my hand; the feeling is slowly coming back. During the first week, I couldn't move my limbs at all. At least my nerves aren't on fire anymore. I almost cried when I finally got up from bed. Chiron said it would take months before I could walk again. It would have, but I'm a Servant. In a few days, I should be up and running—that was what was supposed to happen. I touch my chest where the new scar is, tracing the path where the blade sliced through my shoulder crossed my ribs.
At least the infirmary wasn't crowded. It gets a few demigods a week, and those guys might as well be residents. Then again, I've noticed more people in the infirmary since I was admitted. If it's the Stoll's again, I swear... I'm still the head counselor of Cabin Eleven. If I find out someone was hurt because of their pranks again, it's stable duty for a month.
I looked around; the sun was peeking out from behind the trees. The water shimmered like sapphire on the sound. I closed my eyes, extending my senses through the bounded field of the camp, trying to see if anyone was watching me. Nothing. I smiled.
With a wave of my hand, I summoned my crook, letting the cane fall to the wayside. I could feel myself getting better already. Just holding it inflamed my pride—the things I could do, just imagining the possibilities, soothed my aching body. I tapped into the leyline, feeling the mana flow up my legs and straight to my spiritual core. The damage to my body was a minor setback; as a Servant, I should completely heal in a few days. But the pain wasn't just physical. There's a new scar, and while I've had scars before, this one is etched into my very being. Berserker slashed straight through me, it's amazing I survived.
Even with my magecraft and the leyline, the wound is going to take weeks to heal. I have no idea what would happen if my core were completely destroyed. If I had to guess, either my body would break down on the molecular level or the concept of Luke Castellan would be severed in half. Either way, I would probably die. Not something I'm looking forward to.
I held up my cane and transported it into my temple. As much as it loathed me, it was a great storage space where not even the gods could intervene. My own domain, the temple of the Pharaoh, a place that symbolizes the height of my power. My own world within my soul, a world where the only god is me… Those thoughts have been coming more lately, I could still feel the command spell's hold. If I don't pay attention I could easily lose myself. I almost scolded an Apollo kid for bringing my lunch late, for a second I thought about flailing him for his tardiness.
I shook my head, my thoughts and desires blurring into one another until I couldn't distinguish where Luke Castellan ended and Rider began. If I am Luke, or am I just deceiving myself? Deep down, I sense something is terribly wrong. There's something off about this war, and about me. I can't…
My head starts to ache.
I remember her, holding her hand through the palace. Her smile, her eyes—they blend with another's. I see a sweet girl with flowers in her hair overlapping with a punk rock look and electric eyes. Their voices merge into a chaotic symphony that makes my ears bleed. Every time I look at them, I feel an overwhelming surge of pain, sadness, and an all-consuming anger. My memories are becoming corrupted, but I can't decide which one to be angry about; they are both equally important to me.
"I am Luke Castellan. My father is Hermes, my mother is May. I was born in Westport, Connecticut. My friends are Thalia and Annabeth. I am alone." I recite these words to myself, trying to believe them. I only half succeed.
I need to relax.
I continued my walk, eventually the thoughts drowned out the scenery and I was stuck in my own head again. This was worse than the boredom, it was worse than Tartarus. I needed a distraction. I closed my eyes and tapped the crook, diving into the bounded field, my thoughts went to that great pine.
"Hello? Thalia?"
It took a few seconds before I noticed the ping.
"Luke? Luke, is that you?"
I smiled, my troubling thoughts fading away.
"Thalia. It's been so long."
"What do you mean... I don't... What time is it? Where am I?" Her voice reminded me of better times. I knew this wasn't really her—the real Thalia was in a coma-like state. This version of her was like talking to a dream. I doubted she would remember this conversation next time. Every time I talked to her, she had no memory of the last. Still, even if it's a facsimile it's still her, it's the most her I'll ever get until I break the curse.
"You're dreaming, remember? I'm talking to you through our empathy link. I just made it to Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth is here, and it's… Beautiful."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Grover was right. It's a safe place. There are so many people here, people like us. We don't have to worry about food, monsters, or shelter."
"It sounds amazing." Her voice makes me tremble, for a second I was tongue tied.
"You'll love it here. I... I miss you." In real life, I spoke that out loud.
"Luke? Why... I don't... I remember running then—"
"Do you remember our secret bases? When it was just us. We used to fight over pizza, you almost cut my head off."
"Luke, there's something really wrong here. I—"
"Do you remember the morning after the hellhound attack? We saw our first double rainbow. I miss..."
"Luke, where am I?! What's going on?"
"...I promise, I will save you."
"Luke! What's—" I shut off the link. She was getting too agitated. The last time I told her the truth, the link collapsed from the stress. So I try to distract her, giving out bits of information. But even in a dream, she's smart. Stringing her along will only get me so far. This one lasted for a whole minute. I just wanted to hear her voice again.
I'm pathetic.
I marched forward, the old funk replaced by a new one—at least this time, it wasn't existential. I just needed to heal fast, get back on track, and continue with the plan. If everything went right, no one I cared about would get hurt. Unite all of Chronos' allies, go after the other servants, get my wish. No half-bloods get hurt, and the camp stays safe. It was a simple plan, though I doubt it would go smoothly. Nothing ever does.
A spark of electricity shot up my spine. The bounded field was resonating—someone's trying to break in.
What? Another servant? No! It's too soon!
I extended my vision to the far end of the field and spotted a girl in purple, skillfully weaving through the magical matrix like a dance. Then I felt it—the servant. Panic surged through me. I wasn't ready yet. I pulled all my focus into reinforcing the bounded field, trying to brute force my way through her spell. But nothing was working. It was like a thousand arrows hitting all the right spots at once. That should've been impossible. She was slowly breaking through.
I broke my concentration and rushed toward the water. I dipped my crook into the river, flinging it upward creating precipitation. I vanished my crook and flicked a golden drachma.
"Show me Annabeth," I commanded.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. I clicked my tongue in frustration. These gods and their pleasantries… I flicked another drachma into the water.
"Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, great messenger. Accept my humble offering. Show me Annabeth." I added a slight bow, tasting bile on my tongue as I did. The rainbow shimmered, and Annabeth's image appeared.
She turned, her gray eyes locking onto mine. "Luke? You're up!" she smiled.
"Annabeth, someone's trying to break the boun–barrier! They're taking the back roads."
Her smile faded, worry creeping into her expression. "Luke? What–"
"Take cabin six and arm yourselves. Monsters are trying to break in."
"How do you know this?" she asked, her voice sounding eerily like Thalia's.
"There's no time! You have to go!"
"Luke–" I cut the connection, and the rainbow dissipated.
Arming myself with my crook, I sprinted back into the woods, navigating over rocks and through trees, going deeper than any camper should. I stopped in front of a massive limestone cliff, tapping my crook against it. A hidden door slid open, and I hurried down a spiral staircase into a large metal bunker. Bunker Nine—the Hephaestus cabin's secret command post. At least, it used to be. It's full of cobwebs and dust. Whatever this place was before didn't matter, it was useful for my purposes now.
As I reached the ground floor, three heavy thuds echoed through the chamber. I was greeted by three large cats, their bodies were the night sky, wearing crowns that mimicked their father's. The two of them bowed as they should, while the third purred against me.
Needs more training.
They weren't as large as their father, but they were powerful enough to take on a fully grown hellhound. The third cat kept rubbing against me, and soon the other two abandoned formalities to join in, purring as well. Normally, I'd allow this breach in protocol, but this was an emergency.
"Stop! Enemies are at our gates, to your stations!"
The command made them flinch, and they quickly darted off to their posts. Almost immediately, the bunker hummed to life. Machinery that had been dormant for years began to whirr and clank, ancient glyphs embedded in the walls glowed. I had reawakened this place with my magecraft, waiting for this moment. This bunker would be the brain of my operation, coordinating every aspect of my attack.
Fools, they may have breached the field, but they had no idea what they're dealing with.
I approached the freshly crafted throne made of marble, its design alien to the industrial surroundings. The moment I sat down, my eyes snapped open, and the world around me expanded. This throne was directly connected to the leyline, granting me complete control. Not only could I see everything within the bounded field, but I could also manipulate the very camp—rains, fire, storms, even the ground itself—all were under my command.
Screens materialized around me, floating in the air, displaying live feeds of the intruders. There were four of them.
The mage, draped in purple. Her age was similar to Annabeth's, but the power radiating from her was anything but ordinary. It was raw, intense, far beyond what any modern mage should possess. She was a master, I'm sure of it—likely from the Association.
Beside her was a boy with black hair, my eyes flicker. This presence… A Servant. His aura was unmistakable, for a second I saw Berserker. My bloodlust surged, a challenge to my authority in my own domain. The arrogance. I won't make the same mistakes.
The next figure puzzled me—a Cyclops. Was he a familiar? Why would a Cyclops ally with mortals? It doesn't matter. He would die all the same.
And then there's Grover…
Annabeth was fast, quickly positioning the archers. My heart raced, cabin six was on border control today, they would have encountered the intruders regardless. But there's still a chance… No. I'd warned her, she's as prepared as she'll ever be. Mana surged within me, ready to incinerate the intruders in molten lava. I'll destroy them before they lay a finger on her.
The archers volleyed, I was ready to incinerate them all, then…
Annabeth, she was approaching them. Why?
No! Stay away!
My vision flickered, and I saw the Servant catch an arrow with his teeth. What? My hand hovered in the air, I stopped the sphinx's from activating the missiles.
What's going on?
Annabeth steps back, ordering the others to surround the intruders. Instead of fighting, they're escorting them to the camp.
Why!? What's she thinking?
They walk back calmly. Was she hypnotized? No, I would have sensed it. The bounded field is restricting the mana flow, even if they did, I could easily disrupt them. My eyes narrow as I watch them stroll through camp.
I don't understand, why aren't they attacking? Why is Annabeth listening to them!? My gaze falls on the satyr—of course. That wretch, that thief! That useless pile of nature. Annabeth has always had a soft spot for him, even after everything he—
A sphinx meowed.
I realize my hand is stretched forward. With a flick of my finger, I could have killed them all, Annabeth included. I quickly pull my arm back. A single twitch and I would have obliterated the entire group right there, in the middle of camp. My heart pounds, the scar on my chest throbs.
I almost…
"Meow?" One of the sphinxes looked back at me. It had no face, only star light; each stationed at a console, ready to respond at a moment's notice. When I first arrived, this place was a mess, cluttered with incomplete blueprints and half-finished projects. Most of it was beyond my understanding, but Beckendorf managed to give me a quick summary of the essentials.
I'm no mechanic, I couldn't build them, but it was enough to let my magecraft handle the heavy lifting. I wasn't idle during those long nights; I spent every waking moment creating bombs, missiles, and anything I could remotely control. I let mystery weave the devices together, trusting it to make them functional. Sure, they were practically held together with duct tape and wishful thinking, but it was the best I could do with my limited resources and time. It probably wouldn't work outside the leyline anyway.
They're approaching the Big House. Are they trying to take the leyline? No. This is something else.
Chiron steps out to meet them. I read his lips, Percy. Could that boy be Perseus? I scan him quickly: no winged sandals, no Gorgon head. Chiron doesn't know anything about the Grail War, so it could just be his actual name. Still, that doesn't help me much.
They know each other, but why?
Chiron doesn't usually go out of his way to befriend mortals unless they're of special interest. I can't think of any mortals who would fit that description. Unless… he's already a half-blood. That would make sense. Or perhaps Chiron is mistaking a Servant for a demi-god; they emit a similar scent, stronger than most mortals. I remember trying to discreetly find out if I smelled different, but the satyrs only said I smelled "sunny." I blamed it on the cologne.
Then Mr. D enters the scene. Gods always complicate things. Spying on them is risky, my anti-divination magecraft isn't exactly subtle, and if I use it, Mr. D will know somethings up. I quickly shut off the screens. Why right now, when it's the most inconvenient for me!
I bang the throne.
This day is getting worse and worse. The only bright side I can see is the master. If I take her out, I won't even need to fight the Servant.
Yet something gnaws at me. There's a part of me that craves the challenge, that wants to test my strength against this Servant, to see if he's a true match for my might. It's reckless, I know, but the itch to prove myself is growing stronger with every passing moment. Berserker did more than injure me; she struck a blow to my pride. How could I call myself a pharaoh if I cowered in the shadows, even while wounded? A true ruler never hides from their enemies. Even in this state, I should face them head-on, to remind myself of who I am.
I slapped my head, massaging my temples as I tried to clear my thoughts. I'm doing it again.
"I am Luke Castellan. I am Luke Castellan. I am Luke Castellan. I am—" One of the sphinxes claws at my chair. "Huh? What?"
It climbed up and settled in my lap, purring. Before I could react, the rest of them abandoned their posts and leaped onto me. They purred, rubbed their fur against my face, and meowed playfully.
"Stop! This is—" My words were cut off as one of them settled on my head, shutting my mouth. I know what they were doing and it's working. My breathing slowed down, my heart rate shimmered, even the scar stopped aching. I'd never considered myself a cat person, but maybe that was changing.
"Enough. We have to—" One of them rubbed its head against my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to pet it. "Stop." I carefully removed them, placing them back on the floor, and turned on the screens.
They're gone.
"What!?" I quickly zoomed around the Big House, extending my vision in a frantic search. But no matter how far I reached, they were nowhere to be seen.
"Where did they go!?" I demanded, but the sphinxes merely tilted their heads, their glowing eyes blank. The urge to berate them fizzled out as quickly as it had flared up. I sank back into my throne, frustration settling in like a heavy weight.
"Great," I muttered, zooming my vision back to the Big House. They're probably inside, but the walls blocked my sight. If I tried to force my way in, Argus would know immediately.
"Damn it!" I bang the throne again. Yet I couldn't find it in me to feel angry, just disappointed. It looks like I'd have to go in there myself. I could send Annabeth-no, I can't let anyone fight my battles. It could get ugly and…I didn't want to see any more of us get hurt, especially because of me. The memory of Thalia's fall still haunted me. I couldn't let that happen. Never again. I had to do this on my own. It was the only way to limit casualties, the only way to ensure that no one else suffered for my mistakes. I am better than the gods.
I slowly got up from my throne, I could feel the nonexistent eyes of the sphinxes. There is a possibility I won't come back. I could feel my scar tingle. With the way I am now, I don't like my chances. But the servant seems reasonable, he didn't attack anyone during camp. Maybe he was here for an alliance? It doesn't matter. I must present a strong front. Injured or not, even if death awaits, I cannot falter. My pride, something from both my lives, demands I never show weakness, never again.
Before I could take my first step, the screens flickered back to life. I whipped my head around as the sphinxes scrambled to their stations.
"What—?"
"Hey, can you hear me? Hick ." The static gradually subsided, revealing a hand fumbling with the screen, adjusting the image. "How do— hick —you work this thing?"
I know that voice.
"And… there it is. Hick ." The screen steadied, revealing his face as he lifted a glass of wine to the camera.
That shouldn't be possible...
"There you are… Hick , Skywalker? Hick ." The man stumbled lazily, nearly spilling the wine from his glass.
How did he—? This base has been compromised! My worst fears were realized.
I pointed at the sphinx. "Start the self-destruct sequ—"
"Stop! Stop! Hick ." Mr. D's eyes drifted down, his hands gesturing wildly for me to stop. Wasn't he banned from all alcoholic drinks? The god of wine looked utterly hammered, his face flushed red with intoxication. I could practically smell the alcohol through the screen. "Don't, ugh. Hick . Don't do that…"
My mind raced on the possibilities, I must have messed up somewhere. I had to rely on my contingencies, that would mean leaving camp. I wasn't even an ounce prepared, I bit my lip. Curse these gods.
"Don't be like that. Skywalker. Skywalker. Hick. You know. Hick. Out of everyone in this…Ugh. playpen, you were the least- hick. Annoying. Hick . To me."
I ignored him and tapped into the leyline again. There it was—I felt his presence everywhere: in the trees, the strawberries, the greenery, nature itself. How did I not see it before!? Of course, the god would bind himself to the land. How could I be so stupid!? He probably knows everything!
"I— yawn —wanted to see where this was going… Hick. But... Hick ... Big mistake." His voice carried a tinge of remorse, something I never thought I'd hear from him.
I was about to activate the mystic code before I heard it. Sobs. Was he crying? I turned back to see the god weeping, his hand trembling the glass. I was too dumbfounded to speak.
"I… I-ah." *sob* "I can't…" *sob*
This is a new side of him I've never seen. I didn't think it was possible until now.
"Skywalker. I don't know how much long- hick. " He emptied the yard glass in one gulp. He huffed deep breaths when he was finished. "I-ugh. I think better when I'm drunk. Damn, father. Damn this world. Damn the- hick. Fates."
"What's going on? Why are you doing this?" I couldn't help but ask. Among all the gods, Dionysus was irritating, but I could never truly hate him like the others. He was actually a father to his children. Castor and Pollux—it was obvious, the envy in others' eyes when they looked at them. Dionysus genuinely cared for his kids. Chiron always said they were seldom born, but when they were, Dionysus cherished them as his own. He actively participated in their lives, skimming the dangerous line of Olympus' laws.
He will surely be punished for this. Zeus himself banned him from drinking.
"I just. Ugh." He covered his mouth to hide a burp. "This is strong stuff." His eyes lazily wandered to mine. Once blue, now purple, like a swirl of mist too deep to be pierced. "I think. Hick. It's better if I show you." He turned the screen upwards, to the open sky. At first I didn't see a thing, then when I stretched my senses. In the distance I could see a red star, but it wasn't. I don't know what I saw but I could feel its hatred, the maliciousness. It hurts to look at. It's getting closer, and closer.
"That… Is my doom. The fates. Hick. Decreed. Haaaa." He laughed, yet it felt empty.
"What is it?"
"I just told you… Doom." He frowns awkwardly. "Doom to me. To the gods. To you." He looked at me straight in the eye, it was like I was staring at the abyss. Madness, intoxication, I flinched away from his sight. Mr. D smiles again.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because… I know you hate me. Hick. "
I stare at him blankly.
"I know. Shocker. Everyone loves–" He burped in his hand. "Ugh. The party man." His tone was steadying, the haze from his eyes lifted and I saw… I don't know, humanity, empathy, it was weakness; a fragile hope.
"There's a chance. I'm going to die today." He says that with all the seriousness he could muster. I didn't know how to respond, I didn't know that was possible; at least not normally.
"Yeah, I thought the same too." He drinks more wine, this time straight out of a giant bottle. "A huge curve ball straight out of the fates mouth. Right now I'm talking to you and five others at the same time." His voice was shaking, his eyes turned glassy. "To give my final farewells."
"And yet, you came to me." I said sarcastically. The god chuckled.
"What? No love for uncle D? Hick. " He smiled again, I narrowed my eyes. "Yes. There's something I need you to do."
Here it is, another errand. I should have expected this, of course the gods–
"You hate me, Luke Castellan." I froze. He never says my name—or anyone else's. "I've spent my entire life around Olympus, surrounded by fake faces. That's all I've ever known. And you—you want to destroy me." His voice, tense and raw, betrayed a mix of anger and fear. It was raw, it was human.
"I was human before I was a god. Despite the eons, some things you never forget. I know your hatred, your pain, the humiliation. I know it all too well. I understand—you hate me and my kin. But my boys… Cass, Poll… Please." His voice cracked, the divine veneer slipping away. "I'm not asking you as a god, but as a man, as a father. Please, protect them. I don't know what their fates will be, or if they'll survive. Just… please. Make sure they live."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe I'm asking a mortal this." He wiped the tears from his eyes, but his smile never wavered. "If anyone asks, blame it on the alcohol. Hah." He turned to the sky, his body unnervingly still. Lifting the bottle in a toast to the red star above, he murmured, "Nice knowing you, world. It's been fun, while it lasted."
Then his entire body began to glow, like a star—like his true form. I quickly shielded my eyes.
"Your plan was to save the demigods, right? Yeah, tough break there. But that's the norm for this family… Don't lose sight of your goal. That's what the gods did." Though I couldn't see it, I knew he had taken flight. Slowly, I lowered my hands, just in time to see a shooting star streaking across the sky.
"Enhance the screen!" I commanded the sphinxes, settling back into my throne as the image widened. The purple comet hurtled straight toward the star. I gripped the throne tightly; at that speed, they could collide at any moment. Instinctively, I flooded the bounded field with mana, unsure of what might happen but bracing for the worst.
They were inches apart, yet it felt as though two suns were dueling in the sky. The gravitational force shredded the air, twisting and warping spacetime between the two entities. The purple comet, I could almost taste the grapes, hear the laughter of a play, feel the fury of a revolution. There were screams of madness, delight, joy, indulgence, ecstasy. It was overwhelming, burning into my retinas if I stared too long.
The other—an ominous, dying star—radiated red and black flames. Unlike the vibrant energy of the purple comet, this was grotesque, a festering wound of hatred and pain, like dark mud tainting the blue. I couldn't bear to look at it either; the very sight made my eyes ache and my ears ring.
"Meow!" The sphinxes howled.
They touched, and the world shattered. The sky was engulfed in a blinding flash of light, the wind roaring back at a thousand miles per hour. A terrible sound tore through the air, like the very fabric of the world being ripped apart. I could feel the screams of pain reverberating in my bones.
"Enough!" I tapped deep into the leyline, channeling every ounce of power to reinforce my body. With great effort, I managed to peer into the light. It was a quasar exploding, a cosmic scene of dust and stars scattering across the sky. But then I saw it, the purple comet was being torn apart. That wasn't just dust, it's ichor. A beautiful cascade of purple and white, glittering in the sky, slowly falling to the earth.
It dawned on me, I was witnessing the death of a god.
In mere seconds, the light faded, and the ichor rained down on the horizon. Only the red star remained, unscathed and relentless, accelerating towards the earth. Like the clash never happened. At its current trajectory, it would strike the camp dead center.
"Strengthen the field!" I screamed to the sphinxes. Activating every reinforcement magecraft I could cast and directing it through the leyline and into Thailia's tree. I spoke the divine words for protection, virility, strength, power, rejuvenation. As many words as I could remember, all directed to the barrier. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough.
The red star fell at breakneck speeds, the anticipation alone was killing me. Then I remembered.
"Thalia?"
"Luke?" Her voice was a lifeline, but I bit my lip, knowing what was coming.
"Thalia, I'm so sorry. For everything."
"Luke, what's going on?"
"I don't know if I'll survive this, but Thalia... I—I love you. I love you, Thalia."
"Luke…"
"There are so many things I never said. Thalia, I—"
"Luke, it's alright. I know. I think I've known for a long time."
I was speechless, the words caught in my throat.
"Luke, I don't know what's happening, but we'll get through this. Together. Just like always."
"You, me, and Annabeth."
"Yeah, our little messed up family," she snarked, and despite everything, I couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah. Like always." I could feel the fires inching closer, ready to consume the field. "Together."
Suddenly, a searing pain engulfed my body, as if every cell was on fire. I screamed so loud it pierced through steel. The bunker trembled, machines and coatings toppled to the ground. The sphinxes panicked, howling in fear. The lights flickered on and off. My throne cracked under the pressure, the stone around my hands crumbling. The leyline was becoming unstable, my senses disconnecting one by one. The earth itself was dying.
Then I felt it—an overwhelming hatred flooding my body. I tasted blood and bile in my mouth, thick and foul, like a mud of filth and disease, corrupting everything it touched.
I was being expelled. My connection with the field was slipping away. All I could see was her faint smile.
"Tha—Nef... Rrrrrraahhhh!"
The field shattered, and everything went black.