❝ You know, all the training in the world could not have prepared me for how deeply I fell in love with you, or the tragedies that came with it. But even if we had to do this all again, I wouldn't change our story for a second ❞
NEW GODS I
PERCY JAC...
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 |Confused, angry and despairing; Luke's current emotions
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WHEN Luke had opened his eyes, he had expected to find himself in the Underworld. He had expected to see dark caverns, Charon waiting to take him to be judged so that his ate could be decided.
Instead, he was met with a wood ceiling. His eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself up onto his forearm, with a wince, rubbing at the very real pain in his side. He didn't know where he was, that was for sure.
Twisting, the man stood up, placing his feet onto the cold wooden floor and attempting to stand. As soon as he did, his legs gave out, and he landed on the floor with a thump. Everything went silent, and Luke's past from being on the street kicked in, as he managed to push himself upright, grabbing onto his old sword, which sat in the corner of the room, and hiding behind the door.
It creaked open, with little to no protest, and just as Luke saw the boot appearing in the room, he raised his sword to their throat. The stranger did the same to him, and for a moment, Luke's mind went blank, before he recognised the familiar eyes staring back at him, just as shocked as he was.
"What-?" He trailed off. "Freyja?"
"Luke." But she didn't sound surprised to see him. A thought ran through Luke's body as he began to shake his head.
"Please..." Freyja lowered her sword, her eyebrows furrowing. "Please don't tell me you're dead. Freyja, no."
"Luke."
"You said you'd live."
"Luke, I'm not dead." Luke shook his head. He knew that he was dead. He'd felt himself die, felt Kronos die inside of him. Freyja sighed again, before grabbing onto Luke's hand and pressing it to her chest.
Her hoodie was soft (and looked suspiciously like his) and her hand was warm against his own. Were dead people supposed to have cold hands? He wondered what he was doing until he felt something against his hand. It was the familiar thrum-thrum of a heartbeat, a heartbeat meaning that Freyja was alive.
"How are you here and alive?"
"We're not in the Underworld, per se." Freyja licked her lips, something she only did when she was truly scared.
"Bubbles. What have you done?" She couldn't meet his eye, sheathing Epilogue and stashing it away. "Bubbles."
"Ke. It's nothing you need to worry about."
"If I'm in the human world again, after having you kill me, then perhaps it is something I need to worry about." Luke countered. He noticed the way she stiffened at his words, her shoulders tensing. "What have you done?"
"I've righted a wrong." Freyja's voice was weary.
A horrifying thought occurred to Luke as he stood there. He reached upwards, pressing his fingers to the pulse point on his neck, hoping and praying that he wouldn't find what he thought he would. But sure enough, he could feel it.
