we just hit 100k reads on Rise and i legitimately almost cried
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Rainbow quietly approaches the back of Luke's yacht, and (Y/N) clenches her jaw, looking around for anyone on board that might see them. She feels Percy's arms tense around her before he loosens his hold, his hands moving back to either side of her waist.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tyson says as Rainbow continues to move around the side of the Princess Andromeda. "Back up, back up."
Percy dismounts, quietly jumping over to the yacht and mentally thanking the gods that its stern is low enough for him to get onto without much struggle. He offers his hand to (Y/N), who raises an eyebrow at him before denying his help and stepping over far more gracefully than he had.
She chuckles when Percy rolls his eyes, instead holding out his hand for Annabeth—who takes it without question as she stumbles while getting on the yacht. Tyson hops off last, jumping slightly in surprise as Rainbow nudges his lower back.
He turns around, smiling at the Hippocampus and nodding. "Thank you, friend."
"Tyson," Percy whispers, prompting his half-brother to look back at him. "Come on, buddy, we gotta go."
(Y/N) chuckles as Rainbow lets out a quiet sputter, and Tyson gasps quietly in realization. "Oh!" he breathes out, reaching into his pocket and holding out two of the sugar cubes he previously took from the café. "Want some sugar?"
Percy lets out a quiet sigh, pulling (Y/N)'s hand towards him and looking at her watch. The girl furrows her brow when he lets go of her arm. "You could've just asked me," she says, and Percy shrugs.
Satisfied with his reward for helping, Rainbow snorts a goodbye before turning away and diving back under the water's surface. Tyson faces the three half-bloods, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Let's go."
Percy glances at (Y/N), gesturing for her to lead the way. She holds up a hand for quiet, closing her eyes and focusing on her hearing. Her head tilts with intrigue as what sounds like hushed conversation reaches her ears, and she opens her eyes. She looks upwards, where the source of most of the chatter seems to be. By her guesses, there should be some sort of saloon-like entertainment area a level or two above the stern deck, where she and the others are right now, out of sight.
Going directly to the source would take away their cover and elements of surprise and stealth, meaning that they need another way around and up. Looking at the stairwell tucked away behind Percy, (Y/N) nods.
"Down there," she whispers, and Percy turns around, glancing at their group before quietly descending into the lower levels of the yacht.
Annabeth follows right behind, with Tyson after her and (Y/N) taking up the rear. Percy freezes when he sees movement ahead of them, hissing, "Get down!"
The demigods crouch to the ground behind a cluster of industrial utility cases, and Percy peeks his head above just slightly, his dark hair blending in with the low-lit, shadowed area. Across the room is a set of glass sliding doors, and he squints to make out the two darkened forms that approach from the other side. He ducks back down a bit more as the doors open, listening carefully.
"Have you seen it?" one of them asks, evidently a man by the voice.
"No," the other responds—another male. "Did he show it to you?"
"Oh, just wait 'til you see it."
"Took him long enough to find it, that's for sure."
Percy returns to his crouch as the men walk up a different staircase than the one his group came down from, looking back to his friends and Tyson.
Annabeth shakes her head, recognizing the voices. "That was Chris Rodriguez and Ethan Nakamura," she whispers, earning a nod from Percy.
"We already know that Luke's been recruiting," he says, "so we have to expect more than just them and the others who took Grover." Percy jumps, startled, as Tyson hurriedly scoots across from the half-bloods, his backpack rattling loudly as he looks around. Percy and Annabeth both hush him as (Y/N) warily stands up, ignoring the other three.
"This is a nice boat," Tyson says, and Annabeth rolls her eyes, returning her focus to Percy.
"How are we gonna find Grover?" she whispers, and (Y/N) gulps slightly as she looks ahead of her.
Hanging over the edge of the boat for her to see, on the far end of the room, is part of a scorpion's tail that is nearly as long as her entire body. She instantly knows what it is.
"Guys?" she mutters, getting no acknowledgement.
Percy sighs, thinking before answering Annabeth's question. "Luke's probably keeping him below deck... somewhere. Like, in a brig."
Tyson nods in agreement as Annabeth furrows her eyebrows.
"I don't think yachts have brigs, Percy," the daughter of Athena whispers.
"Yeah, cool, cool; that's cool and all, whoop whoop," (Y/N) interjects, watching tentatively as the tail moves up out of sight. "But it looks like we've got another thing to worry about right now."
"Like what?" Percy asks, following her line of sight to see nothing of concern.
"Like a Manticore," she says, looking at the group with a sardonic smile.
Annabeth curses under her breath.
Percy nods, eyes wide. "Okay," he breathes out, blinking a few times before snapping out of his worry. "We'll be fine. Come on."
(Y/N) scoffs as he jogs over to and up the staircase without heeding her protests. Annabeth groans in frustration before following, and Tyson sniffs the air before hesitating.
"Um, guys? It smells kinda weird," he says, hugging his arms to himself nervously.
(Y/N) furrows her brow, every nerve in her body now on high alert.
"Look," Annabeth sighs, turning around frustratedly and gesturing to the stairwell behind her, "if it bothers you that much, you can stay there. If not, you can come scout. Not a big deal either way." (A somewhat false statement, that was, as Annabeth had begun developing an even stronger tendency to be annoyed at the bare minimum of Tyson's actions.) "(Y/N)'s staying"—(this claim, however, was true; the girl has her feet planted firmly on the ship's floor, her arms crossed as she waits with anticipation)—"and we're scouting. Your choice."
Tyson glances uncertainly at the daughter of Persephone, who shrugs at him with a look that clearly reads, 'She's putting it a little harshly, but yeah. It's up to you.'. Scrunching up his nose, Tyson climbs a few steps behind Annabeth, doing his best to stay quiet.
Percy crouches low to the stairs, slowly raising his head above them to watch as people mill around a large, tarp-covered object in the saloon.
He lowers his head when someone speaks. "Be careful, you guys," Chris says, adjusting the tarp to completely cover the item. "He said to keep your distance."
"How much longer are we gonna be on this boat, anyway?" a girl asks, and Chris scoffs.
"Doesn't matter, just watch it."
When the air begins to completely stink, Tyson looks to his side, the gaps in the staircase's rail allowing him to see a creature that would be straight out of someone's nightmares. Its near-eight feet tall and hulking, muscled figure is a pale grey; hair is coarse and white; and face appears to have been intended to be human, only it was carved by someone who had no skill with a chisel and lacked the slightest idea of what a human face was supposed to look like. It sets down the large case in its hands with a deep grunt, and Tyson's breaths quicken with fear.
He pats Annabeth's knee frantically, whimpering slightly as the Laestrygonian turns in their direction, evidently hearing him. Annabeth's eyes widen as the man-eating giant sniffs for their scent, its eyes far too small for its body and seeming to have trouble seeing in the dark.
"So, time to go," Annabeth whispers, hitting Percy's calf as she keeps her eyes on the Laestrygonian. "Percy. Percy!" she hisses, unfortunately causing the giant to hear her.
It turns in their direction, only to find them gone.
(Y/N) tries to explain how "I told you it was a bad idea! But no, let's just be reckless!" as she herds their group onto the wrap-around portion of the ship's deck, hissing for them to run before she joins behind them.
As Tyson's backpack clatters noisily, Annabeth groans. "Tyson! Do you have to make so much noise?"
"Sorry!"
(Y/N) begins grumbling multiple different profanities in Greek as she hears a monstrous snarl, picking up her pace while looking around and listening for any sign of the Manticore. All she can distinguish are thuds and scratches as she holds out a hand, a rope of twisted roots whipping out from her palm and shooting past Tyson, Annabeth, and Percy to wrap tightly around the deck's side railing. (Y/N) fixes her hold on it before jumping off the side of the boat and swinging above the water, her momentum allowing her to pull herself back up in front of the group just as the Manticore cuts in front.
She kicks her legs forward, slamming into the monster's side and making it stumble back. Her feet hit the deck once more, and she lets go of the root in her hands while shouting for the other three demigods to get their act together and run. (Y/N) leads the group to the deck at the ship's bow, coming to a halt when the Manticore leaps above the four's heads from behind, stopping in front of her and growling.
(Y/N) holds her arms out as the monster approaches, keeping the other three behind her and backing away. Percy turns around to look for an escape, being met with a particular son of Hermes who is flanked by his fellow minions and the Laestrygonian from before.
"Chris," Percy says, earning a dark grin.
"Hey."
"What have you done with Grover?" Annabeth asks, keeping behind Percy and next to Tyson.
Chris scoffs, stepping forward. "Grover? Grover's the least of your worries."
The Manticore snarls, and (Y/N) rolls her eyes. "Oh, shut up," she groans, vines whipping out of her palm and muzzling the Manticore, strong enough that its lion-like jaws can't snap them. The Laestrygonian growls as a warning, and (Y/N) turns to it. "I can do it to you, too, if you're feeling left out."
Percy has to restrain a smile from forming at the sight of the irate and somewhat confused demigods in front of him.
Any amusement, however, fades when a dark-haired man steps out from behind Chris, looking at (Y/N) with a smirk.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," Evander says, a sick kind of triumph dripping from his voice.
(Y/N) raises an eyebrow before she notices the wind that whistles around them, growing the slightest bit louder so as to taunt her. The waves under the yacht rock more powerfully, the sound of splashes accompanying the wind's howls.
"(Y/N)," Annabeth murmurs expectantly, waiting for her decision on what to do before acting on her own terms.
(Y/N) grits her teeth, glaring at the son of Eurus as the air grows cold, picking up speed to sting her cheeks. When she doesn't back down, Evander lets out a disappointed sigh, looking over at the vines under her command.
Her eyes widen in frustration when they rot into disintegration, leaving a very angry Manticore just behind her.
After analyzing their numbers and current situation, (Y/N)'s muscles tense before reluctantly loosening. Any fight right now would be a losing game, and Evander could still capsize the entire boat if he wanted to. Neither position would be favorable.
Percy's jaw clenches when (Y/N) holds her hands up in compliance, and he does the same, trusting her judgement. Slowly, Annabeth and Tyson mirror their actions, making Chris smile as the wind dies down.
"There," he drawls, moving to stand next to Evander. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"
He gets no response, only chuckling at the glare that (Y/N) holds in Evander's direction. "Grab 'em," he instructs, crossing his arms with a taunting pout as each half-blood's hands get pulled behind their back and held in an iron grip.
Evander takes the personal liberty of keeping (Y/N) restrained, opening his mouth to speak before something changes his mind. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he studies her face with interest.
She scoffs, not even fighting his hold as he grips her wrists more gently than expected. "What?" she asks, the word sharp.
Before he can answer, Chris raises an eyebrow at the two. "Evander?" he asks, snapping the man back to attention.
"Sorry," he says, his former attitude returning, and he grins. "Lead the way."
Chris tilts his head at Percy, who looks at him with fury blazing in his eyes. Laughing, he waves for his companions to follow, guiding them up the stairs past the captain's station and to the upper-level, outdoor saloon. "Someone's been dying to see you," he says, showing them into the entryway.
"Oh, wow, I wonder who," Annabeth deadpans, scoffing as the girl holding her kicks the back of her knee. "Seriously? On the stairs, too? That's low."
Chris rolls his eyes, walking over to the tall demigod bent over a table. "Guess who's here," he says in a sing-song tone, stepping to the side to let Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson be led into the room.
Luke turns around, tilting his head at the trio before movement in his periphery catches his attention. He looks to the side, his intrigued expression instantly hardening when he sees Evander restraining (Y/N).
She doesn't struggle, looking at Luke with a calm, bored expression. "Hey, bestie," she greets, her tone full of distaste.
"(Y/N)," he responds, barely sparing her a glance. He merely watches Evander, a threat in his eyes, as the son of Eurus lets go of her so she stands with the other teenagers. When he steps away to join Chris, Luke relaxes, turning his attention to the four demigods.
"Well," he starts, clapping his hands once and smiling. His next words are directed to Percy, who tenses unwillingly. "What a surprise. If it isn't the son of Poseidon and his... minions."
"Sons," Tyson corrects, making Luke raise an eyebrow. At his next words, Annabeth rolls her eyes, Percy sighs quietly, and (Y/N)'s stoic expression sees no change. "He's my dad, too."
Luke hums in amusement. "That's funny, because Poseidon doesn't have any other half-blood children," he says, approaching Tyson.
"I'm a Cyclops," is the response, causing Luke to falter. He glances between Tyson's two very visible, normal-appearing eyes, clearly thinking that the younger boy has gone insane. "Mist," Tyson adds on.
Luke narrows his eyes. "You don't say." The change in his tone from amused to hateful is not easily detected, but (Y/N) catches on, noticing the muscles tense in Luke's jaw.
She keeps a wary eye on him as he walks over to Annabeth, but most of her focus is on Evander in her periphery. She can feel his attention on her, but this was different from spectating cautiously to ensure she won't try to escape or simply enjoying the view. No, this was real, analytical examination—consideration of every feature of her body as though it will help him find the missing piece to a puzzle.
This was a stare with the purpose to unlock a door he just so happened to stumble across, but what that door may be, (Y/N) has no idea.
She misses most of the conversation between Luke, Percy, and Annabeth; only zoning her attention back in when she hears Luke say her name.
"Look, I don't care if you guys use it after me. I'll give it to you, even. It's just that I need it, too, and I need it first. And yes, (Y/N)—" he looks at her with a smirk that is a strange combination of frustrated and teasing. Percy begins mentally reciting the alphabet backwards to keep from attacking Luke as he looks at (Y/N) with such arrogance and self-assurance swirling behind his gaze.
"—it is a need, not a want. I've got something only the Fleece can revive." Luke takes a deep breath, leaning back against the table behind him as he looks at Percy. "And it's not a stupid tree."
"How dare—"
"Annie, no," (Y/N) interrupts, crossing her arms as Luke chuckles. She has a pretty good idea of what that 'something' is, and her eyes flit to the object on the far end of the room behind Luke, still covered with a tarp.
He follows her line of sight, nodding in approval. "I can show you," he offers, walking to the item and pulling off the sheet.
(Y/N)'s eyes widen at the golden sarcophagus, feeling an evil, unnatural tug towards it in the depths of her power. She glances at her friends and Tyson, noticing their expressions of awe and slight confusion.
Evidently, they aren't affected in the way she is.
It gives her an answer that she certainly doesn't like.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Luke asks, trailing reverent fingertips over the lid of the casket.
Percy shivers, its mere presence making the entire saloon feel cold. He looks at the engravings along its side, and his stomach twists with horror. Death and destruction are portrayed as glorious; cities burn into flames so realistic that the smoke seems to swirl with life; and other varying scenes of carnage and conquest adorn the sarcophagus. The appalling, disgust-inducing images are accompanied by words in a Greek-seeming language that Percy somehow cannot read.
Luke pulls his hand back, holding it up and examining a thin layer of frost that now covers his fingertips. He chuckles lightly, rubbing them together to warm them, and he looks to the other four demigods. "It wasn't easy to find, that's for sure," he says, taking his time in walking back over to them. "I had to crawl through the depths of Tartarus itself."
The pull in (Y/N)'s gut grows stronger at the mention of Tartarus. That dark, terrible place is full of the gods' enemies and the monsters that demigods like her have vanquished.
It also happens to be in the deepest depths of the Underworld, in her stepfather's jurisdiction. It's no wonder that she feels some type of connection.
Luke pauses, adding onto his previous statement with a hint of disgust, "And then Cleveland."
(Y/N) stiffens as Luke looks at her, his gaze flitting between her and Percy, whose eyes are narrowed and brow knitted as he tries to read the casket's engraving.
"It's the Tongue of the Old Times," Luke explains. "A language of magic from before the Olympians were even born." He walks over to (Y/N), gently tilting her chin up to look at him. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
She knows better than to start a fight.
"Don't touch her," Percy growls, his muscles tense. His eyes briefly darken from their sea-green to be clouded with a stormy blue, the air echoing in a distant howl, and Luke glances at him in amusement.
He shrugs, smirking at Percy's frustration before he looks back down to (Y/N), who pulls her head away from his finger. Luke gives her a mocking pout before turning to the side, gesturing towards the sarcophagus.
"Go on," he says, raising an eyebrow down at her. "Impress me."
(Y/N) scoffs, shaking her head with an incredulous smile. "You are no one that I wish to impress."
Luke brings a hand up to his heart, feigning offense. "I'm hurt."
"Good," Annabeth interjects, crossing her arms.
Luke tuts, shaking his head. "Now, now, Annie—"
"Don't call me that."
"—that's no way to treat an old friend, is it?"
"You lost that title long ago!" Annabeth shouts, impulsively unsheathing her dagger and pointing it at him, her voice choking as she fights back the pain. So many memories resurfaced when she saw his face again: the jokes, the quests, the support, the love.
They were family.
He had promised they were.
His betrayal hurts more than she is willing to admit.
At her words, Luke pauses. (Y/N) nearly does a double-take when sadness flashes over his face.
It disappears instantly, but this boy used to be her best friend. She knows that look.
And for some twisted, stupid reason, it was genuine.
His former attitude back without issue, Luke glances down at the weapon in Annabeth's hand. "We can't have that, now, can we?" he asks, and Ethan crosses the room to wrench it out of her grasp.
Annabeth begins to fight back against her better judgement, but Ethan pins her arms behind her back, squeezing and twisting to the point of making her whimper softly in pain. "Let go of me!" she exclaims, kicking at his shins, and Percy begins shouting for Luke to call him off.
With anger blazing, (Y/N) stares Ethan dead in the eye. "Let her go," she orders, striking fear in him so great that he instantly releases his grip.
(Y/N) relaxes, and Annabeth pulls her arms in to herself before Percy begins looking them over for any damage. Luke sighs, seemingly with disappointment, before waving Ethan away, and the son of Nemesis backs into the darkness of the far end of the saloon.
"Are you all right, Annie?" (Y/N) asks, keeping her focus on Ethan to ensure he won't try anything else.
"Fine," Annabeth responds, glaring at Luke, who apparently doesn't care.
"Well," he starts, looking at (Y/N), "if you won't impress me, you can at least humor me. You're stuck here, anyway. Might as well."
(Y/N) holds furious eye contact with him before letting out a bored sigh, returning her attention to the sarcophagus. She tilts her head at the ancient symbols, thinking back to her studies. The translation comes to her as though she speaks the language fluently, and it chills her to the core.
"Kronos," she reads, struggling to keep her voice steady, "Lord of Time and King of Mount Othrys."
Annabeth and Percy go wide-eyed with fear as Tyson takes a terrified step backwards.
Luke smiles, pleased. "That's right," he says, stepping away from (Y/N). "Enough of us demigods have seen reality and the future that lies ahead. By renouncing the gods, we've brought back his remains so that our chosen era will come. Here lies Kronos, the Titan Lord, father to the Olympians!" His smile grows dark as he chuckles. "And with the Fleece's help... the destroyer of Olympus."
Percy's jaw clenches as he tries to contain his horror. "And the world," he says, trying to make Luke see sense.
Annabeth shakes her head, stepping forward. "You'd destroy the whole world just... to what? To get back at your dad? To have power?"
Luke chuckles, looking at her. "The Olympians overthrew their parents," he says, shrugging. "It's just our turn."
At the familiar statement, (Y/N) glances at Evander, noticing that while Chris is nodding along to Luke's words, the son of Eurus is somewhat distracted, his gaze focused on the floor with his brow slightly furrowed. Upon feeling her eyes on him, he looks up; he isn't annoyed, as she thought he'd be. Just lost in thought.
(Y/N) returns her attention back to where it needs to be, glancing at Percy as he steps forward.
"We met your father," he says, making Luke's brows knit together. "He said that he knows that he made mistakes, and he... he asked us to tell you to not be so angry. That he still loves you and believes your relationship can be fixed."
Luke shakes his head, offense and incredulity clear in his actions. "Really?" he asks, voice laced with disappointment. "And he couldn't even tell me himself."
Percy doesn't know what to say that could possibly justify Hermes' actions.
Luke scoffs, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
(Y/N) takes note of the gentle quiver that shakes his lower lip, examining his posture in milliseconds.
All it reads is abandonment and sorrow, and her resolve begins to soften.
Luke does well to hide his emotions, looking over to Chris. "Take 'em to the brig," he orders. "The Manticore might be hungry later." As Evander begins moving towards (Y/N), Luke holds up a hand for him to stop. "Not her."
Percy struggles against Chris' hold on him as Luke approaches the daughter of Persephone with a dark look in his eyes. "Stay away from her! Let us go!" he protests, and (Y/N) takes a step away from Luke, thinking quickly.
"It's okay, Blue," she tells Percy, her voice low.
Percy stares at her, wide-eyed with confusion as the shock of her words makes him go limp. Chris tugs on his wrists, startling Percy back to reality. "Get off of me," he snarls, twisting out of the grip and spinning around in the hopes of punching Chris in the face.
"Percy, no!" (Y/N) yells, grabbing his arm from behind and pulling him away. She makes him face her, holding his shoulders tightly so he doesn't attack again. "You'll only make things worse if you fight back, okay?" she hisses, speaking rapidly. "I'll figure something out, I promise, but please just work with them for now so nothing bad happens. Please."
Percy's breaths are heavy from his struggle as he looks into her eyes, reassurance and certainty swirling in them, softly backed by fear. Fear that he'll get hurt, that Annabeth and Tyson will, too.
Resignedly, he nods, allowing Chris and Ethan to both restrain him and pull him away from (Y/N). Anger bubbles in his chest as Luke approaches her, placing a hand on her elbow, but it dies when she recoils from his touch.
He gets pulled around a corner, no longer able to see her and the others, but he hears Annabeth's furious voice as she undoubtedly tries to get away from the person holding her.
"Thalia was your friend!" Annabeth shouts, and (Y/N) flinches at her tone. "She died for you!"
Luke's face contorts with anger and disbelief. "You're gonna lecture me about Thalia when you're hanging around with him?" He points at Tyson, who gets dragged away in the same direction as Percy just moments prior. Luke narrows his eyes. "You disappoint me the most."
"Watch it," (Y/N) growls, glaring at Luke as the cabin grows darker in shadow.
"I could say the same for you," Evander says, stepping forward in warning as Annabeth weakly allows herself to be taken away.
"And I for you," (Y/N) fires right back, spinning on her heel to face him. "I made you beg for your life once, and I won't hesitate to do it again."
"But you aren't going to," Luke's calm voice interjects, evidently amused by her frustration.
"What makes you think that?"
"You seem to be forgetting that I know you, (Y/N). You're smarter than that. The brains do equal the beauty, after all."
Fighting a gag, she rolls her eyes, zipping back her emotions behind a wall of composure and stoicism. Luke sighs, looking at Evander before waving him away. Evander nods in reply, glancing at (Y/N) one more time with his look of intrigue before exiting.
Luke raises an eyebrow at (Y/N). "That was a compliment, I'll have you know."
"Stop, I'm blushing," she deadpans.
He chuckles softly at her stubbornness, the corner of his lips lifting in a fond smile. "May I ask why you're angry with me?"
She looks at him with surprise. "I didn't think you were oblivious to the point of stupidity, Luke," she scoffs, but he doesn't falter.
"Oh, please. If anyone should be angry here, it's me. You stabbed one of my guys in the arm. Quite badly, might I add."
She blinks, apparently not seeing the problem. "Okay? Do you still have that dagger? I might need it."
Luke laughs, throwing his head back slightly. "You really haven't changed, have you?"
(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows. "How do you expect me to answer that?"
He shrugs, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. "I don't know, really."
She rolls her eyes again.
"Still as fiery as ever, I see," he chuckles, walking over to her. She doesn't avoid him this time, only tilting her head up to look at him when he stops in front of her. "I've missed you."
(Y/N) sighs, taking a step away before looking at the sarcophagus. "I wish I could say the same, Luke."
He follows her gaze, humming in understanding. "So," he starts, glancing at her, "what are your thoughts?"
(Y/N) looks at the detail that litters it, feeling the tug in her gut return once more. "It's impressive," she admits, failing to notice as Luke's chest swells with pride. Intrigued, she walks over to the casket, the pull in her body turning into something stronger, something darker. Goosebumps prickle on her skin, the sarcophagus emanating an icy feel that nearly suffocates the air around it.
Luke says nothing, eyeing her with anticipation.
She hesitates, but the swirling power that increases with strength at the closeness of Kronos' presence overpowers her doubt. Reaching forward, she gently touches the rim of the lid, frost crawling up her skin at the contact.
It all happens within the span of a second.
Millions of needle-like pricks shoot through her nerves as the gut feeling becomes a swirling rage of fire, everything about the sarcophagus telling her to GET AWAY.
She can almost hear the monstrous words roaring and echoing through her mind, pounding against her skull like fists rattling a cage. Her vision begins to blur, her body fooling her with a sense of instability although her spine remains firm and still.
The casket's next wave of defense comes as a rippling shock through her fingertips and up her arm, moving down her body with pain so intense it feels as though her bones are being shattered over, and over, and over and over and over again.
A quiet gasp involuntarily escapes her lips, and she instantly retracts her hand.
Luke steps forward. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his tone.
(Y/N) steps away, gently rubbing her fingers to warm them up again. "It's cold," she lies, trying to put as much distance between herself and Kronos' remains as possible, the pain receding with each step. Luke raises an eyebrow, disbelieving. However, (Y/N) doesn't elaborate, instead crossing her arms and leaning back against one of the saloon's sloped walls. The salty breeze from behind it causes a few strands of her hair to flutter, softly caressing her cheeks.
"When are you gonna let us go?" she asks, and Luke shrugs, feigning thought as he leans against the wall opposite her.
"Never." He grins.
"You gonna tell me where Grover is?"
"Nope."
"Not even a hint?"
He chuckles, ticking his tongue in contemplation before shaking his head.
(Y/N) rolls her eyes. "How kind."
"I know." He runs a hand through his hair, smiling innocently.
(Y/N) looks at his attire, particularly the leather jacket that clings to his torso in a way designed to impress. Obviously, it was a conscious choice on his part. "That's pretty creepy, you know," she says, and Luke lifts his eyebrows, somewhat taken aback.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're copying me," she explains, waving a finger between her jacket and his. "It's creepy."
"It wasn't intentional," Luke brushes off, briefly glancing to the side.
"Yeah, it was."
"Okay, it was, but I like it," he concedes, earning yet another eye roll. "Hey, you gotta admit, it looks good."
"I wear it better."
"That's debatable."
(Y/N) chuckles, unable to fight it. For a moment, it's almost as though things were normal again. Like his friendship never left, like things were never messed up between the two of them.
The illusion of the past fades away as she looks back at Luke, recognizing the adoration in his eyes all too easily. She glances away, shifting her feet uncomfortably, and Luke catches on, tilting his head down to the floor.
A moment of silence passes as they both think of something to say or do.
(Y/N) wants to keep trying to talk him out of going through with his ideas, but much like he keeps reiterating that he knows her, she knows him, too. After coming this far, the only way Luke will see reason is if the repercussions of his actions end up harming him along with everyone else.
The best thing she can do is try to make a plan.
Luke looks back up from the floor, his affections now hidden from view. "There's not long until sunrise," he says, making (Y/N) return her attention to him.
"And?"
"And... it's been two years since I saw you last."
(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows, unsure about the direction he's going with this.
Luke folds his lips inward, almost concernedly, before taking a shaky breath. Hesitating a moment, he glances at his feet before up to the girl in front of him, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "Will you ever stop working against me?"
She smiles ruefully. Apologetically.
Empathetically.
The gears in her mind turn frantically, dangerously, laying out every move of the cruel game she's about to make him play.
A thick pause hangs in the air until she echoes his words from before:
"Never."