The Son Of Asclepius, Demi-god Doctor

Impossible Burden, Burdened Mind

The son of Asclepius had been trapped under the weight of the sky for what he thought were weeks. His could have sworn his flesh was melting off the bone, and that his skeleton was beginning to break down and crack. His knee on the ground had slipped into a crack made by Atlas and shin rubbed uncomfortably on the rough rock of the destroyed palace floor. He struggled to see through the sheer pain, but could make out the world around him moving ever so slowly. He watched as Annabeth rose to a conscious state over what felt like a day. She called out his name, but it took a while for him to register it. She looked far too injured to be worrying about him though, her skin dirty and bloody in dire need of his medical attention. A streak of grey in her hair also remained. Artemis stayed unmoving throughout, crippled and weak because of his creation. He should've destroyed the samples after curing Elara. 

Atlas had disappeared, but Luke stayed behind, watching (Y/N) like a hawk. He would be twenty one by now, able to freely leave camp by now if he had just stayed. But no, just like Adamantios he had to run off and be his own hero. Starving and suffering the effects of dehydration, he didn't think he could last much longer, except his cursed blessing of immortality would see him through no matter what. He could fall to blade but not much else, so for now the seemingly eternal loop of suffering would continue. Next to Luke though were his weapons and staff, leaning against a weapons rack. A quick touch from the Rod of Asclepius could do him well for years, but his suffering seemed to pleasure the titan. The only sort of entertainment for him was to watch the swirling mass of the heavens, stars and sky meet his back. Whilst he couldn't see where he carried the weight, he could watch the star spotted tornado twist and swirl at a normal speed compared to everything else. He had read accounts of those who had travelled to see where sky met earth, but never seen it himself. 

Now he was here though, he had to admit it was just like the stories, beautiful in a painful sort of way. Ouranus, desperate to connect to his once lover Gaia, was prevented from doing so all by (Y/N), holding the two apart. He could almost feel the yearnful push of the sky coming down with the weight. The face of determination was etched onto (Y/N)s face though. He would persevere. 

When Atlas finally returned, he returned with an angered face. Time resumed to a normal pace, yet the pain of carrying the sky continued. 

"Your little half-blood friends and my... my daughter are on their way here. But don't worry, you have a front row seat to watch their deaths at my hand." 

(Y/N) tried to say something, make a gesture of his anger, but he was too tired to do so. Luke grabbed Annabeth from the ground and moved her off into the darkness, threatening her with Backbiter. Looking up, he could see Percy, Zoe and Thalia approaching. They couldn't have taken that long, which meant there was still time to get Artemis to the Winter Solstice. Speaking of the Lady of the Hunt was awake now off to his left, but still chained to the ground and deathly sick, godly ichor covering her clothing and slick with sweat, much like (Y/N). Something was off about Zoe though, he could tell she was gravely injured by something or someone. 

"My lady!" yelled Zoe, and rushed forward, but Artemis shouted, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." 

Her concern for him, the one carrying the sky was touching. 

"(Y/N)!" he heard Thalia shout. At least they recognised his being there. 

Zoe, ignoring her orders, rushed to Artemis and began to tug on her chains, eyes wet from fresh tears. Behind Percy and Thalia, a looming character appeared, accompanied by a variety of other, yet smaller figures. The General was standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side were Luke and half a dozen dracaena bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Luke's side. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke was holding the point of his sword to her throat. What (Y/N) would do to Luke, words couldn't describe it.