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Somewhere deep inside Luke had never thought things would go this far. Kronos was a good schemer. Far better then those fools on Olympus and their martyrs in camp could ever imagine. Gods had grown complacent, they had abandoned their own children. They deserved this fate, to taste how it felt to be toppled by their own blood, to real what they sow. Luke would get his revenge and make those who ruined his mother, and stole his friends from him, made his siblings and kids fight to survive, pay. He was not so foolish to think that Kronos was good, just better than these rotten relics.
He knew that the rest of the titans weren't fond of him. They listened to him only because he relayed Kronos' orders, not because they had any respect for him. He had become a simple messenger these days, knowing less than he ever did as things were approaching the end. Years of scheming and planning all coming together. Kronos would rise, and it would be Luke's end. He too had been a pawn. He could see it better now as he saw how little Kronos cared about anyone or anything besides himself and his desires. It was too late, and there was no turning back. At least Luke hoped he would see Olympus burn and be able to experience it, even as a mere host.
Kronos was making plans for war, gathering troops. Monsters alone wouldn't be enough. That damned son of Poseidon had proved that he was worth hundreds. Demigods were better, most of the campers were snot nosed, snivelling brats who would hesitate to kill one of themselves. It was also unfortunate that he didn't have some of the stronger and better demigods like Clarisse or Beckendorf. Hopeless do-gooders the lot of them. And Percy Jackson was the worst of them all.
When he first came to camp, Luke had high hopes. Percy was already jaded from a tough life. Resenting the father that abandoned him to live with a human scumbag, now expecting his mistake of a child to save his ass. Luke could see in his eyes that Percy didn't go on that quest to help Poseidon. He hadn't accounted for the boy to actually succeed in bringing back his mother back from the Underworld, or succeeding in this quest that was rigged from the start, Luke had been counting on failure to break his spirit. And never for a second he thought, son of big three or not, a demigod could beat a god in a fight.
If Luke had been as strong as Percy, he wouldn't have needed Titans for his revenge. He probably wouldn't be in this situation if he had the power to make the gods notice him and listen to him. Percy could have been a great asset, perhaps his salvation. Kronos had made it quite clear that he wanted him since the existence of the boy had been brought to light, and when he needed a host Percy was the first choice, Luke was just the back up plan. Luke had been sure he would see reason during his first quest, he would see how shitty the gods were. He had been wrong. He couldn’t understand how Percy fought for the gods while knowing and accepting how terrible they were.
Luke had not much else he could do at this point. Soon he would have to take his bath in Styx, and his fate would be sealed. Kronos would take over him, use his body as he pleased. It was still a placeholder until he toppled Olympus over and forged himself a true, immortal body, burning away whatever would be left of Luke in the process. He never thought this was what it would come down to, but so many plans had been spoiled, leaving no other option behind. Leaving Luke so aware that there was no future for him. This was what his servitude was worth, a sack of flesh to be discarded.
Kronos had told him they would need a bigger army. Luke was certain they could already overpower the camp, so many demigods have left them to join titans’ army, not even counting all the monsters. Once Typhoon was free, Gods would have to face their end. All they had to do was go east, Luke didn't understand way they were staggering by staying at Mount Othrys. Gods would be too busy with Typhoon, and camp had already lost too many demigods to defend themselves or Olympus. They were going to lose more once they were invaded through the labyrinth, preparing them for a crushing final blow for Percy’s 16th birthday. There was no need to find troops to guard a place that wouldn't be attacked.
It had been Krios who laughed at him when he brought it up. “Silly demigod. You know nothing don't you?” His mocking voice making Luke grate his teeth, as he was reminded of gods and how they spoke. Luke was done being an object of amusement, some sort of entertainment, never seen or taken into consideration because his blood was red and not golden ichor, and he lacked a stupid seat in that joke of a council.
Krios seemed to take a moment to decide what he could say to torment Luke the most. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the gods never told you. They kept many secrets didn't they.” He knew Luke needed to know. What else gods had been hiding? Something important based on Krios’s shit eating grin. They had played this game of torment before, Luke could tell he was dying to get a reaction.
“I guess it has been long enough of a separation for it to be forgotten. Let’s call it, the other side of the gods.” Krios smiled wider, his teeth glinting like metal under the sun. “You know what came after the Greeks right? Same gods, different names…” Luke wasn’t an idiot. “What about it?”
“If they have Greek aspects, why not have Roman ones boy, think about it.”
“I never saw a Roman aspect before.”
“How many gods have you met anyways when they are so busy avoiding their bastard children.”
“And guess they didn’t have bastards when they were Roman?” Luke sneered.
Krios laughed. “They had plenty of kids. And those also had kids. Enough to fill a whole city. Just a couple hours away from here, there’s a whole city filled with demigods and legacies. Think about it, while you were rotting aways in a camp, waiting around like lambs to the slaughter, dying as children… They have an entire city with magical borders where they live and grow old.” Luke felt his blood boil, and Krios could see his face shift in anger. The titan’s smile grew impossibly wide and sharp. “Where’s the fairness in that, right?”
Krios enjoyed his anger and his hatred for a moment longer. He took in the white knuckles and and listened to teeth gritting so hard, Luke was sure he would break one. He wanted this to be a lie, but a lie like this wouldn’t satisfy Krios’s sadistic streak, not nearly as much as the harsh truth and the utter decimation it would cause could. The truth was much more painful for Luke. Their preparations for another army was proof enough anyways. Kronos was shrewd, he wouldn’t waste resources on a lie.
“Where is it?” Luke’s snarl sounded barely human. “You want to know?” The titan’s voice playful, teasing him until he snapped. “Why do you want to know? To burn it all down, just like you plan to do to your camp, your former home? Or you think you can run away and find a new one? You would never be happy no matter what, knowing that once again, the gods handed you the short end of the stick.” And wasn’t that the truth? It was infuriating that the titan had no need to lie, the truth was so much crueler than any lie he could conjure.
Krios’s smile stretched as thin as the edge of a blade, his face twisted into something vicious. He would enjoy what was to come, he would delight in Luke’s suffering. “I’ll be generous. I’ll tell you where it is, not too far from here actually…”
A part of Luke had been desperately clinging to the hope that Krios was messing with him, sending him on a made up quest, chasing lies. Instead it had been pathetically easy to find the camp exactly where Krios said it was. Sneaking in had been easier, two demigods standing guard, making it painfully easy to find the entrance. It had been too simple for a son of Hermes to sneak past them, and as a demigod there were no barriers that would deny him entry like they would to a monster.
He blended in well, a perk that too came with his lineage, and Luke despised like many other things. He had been able to walk around their city, much bigger than he had ever imagined, without drawing any attention, a scar not being amiss among other demigods and legacies.
It made Luke’s vision turn red as he walked around, his chest felt so tight as anger coiled around him. These Roman demigods, living safely in their city, living to go to a college in their city, living a life, growing old enough to marry and make kids, make legacies. From what he could here there were legacies, generations removed from their godly ancestors, barely more than a regular mortal, living here in bliss as the Greeks were treated like trash, disposable, fighting to survive and end up dying as teens.
How many kids had died trying to make it to their camp. And if they did, what was there? They spent a summer in stuffed cabins, so many ignored by their godly parents who could not spare a second thought about them. They played games and learned to swing a sword, no real replacement for an army to protect them or an actual education that this place gave to legacies that were so diluted a monster couldn’t sniff them out anyways if they had left the borders. If kids went out of Camp Half-Blood to try to have the semblance of a life instead of growing up in a summer camp, how many more died? There were no legacies where Luke was from, just demigods, ripe for killing.
The unfairness of it all infuriated him. He wished that these Romans living in their secure little city knew how it felt to desperately try survive like them. To be treated as scapegoats and errand boys for gods who treated them like trash, who didn’t care and gave them nothing in return. He wanted them to be terrified of the death and destruction that was to come upon them, instead of sitting at a café, having an army to deal with this war as they lived in peace. He wanted to decimate their army, show them that their numbers were nothing compared to what Luke had gathered. He wanted this place to burn until nothing remained, no legacy left.
He had to force himself to leave before he did something impulsive enough to put the son of Poseidon to shame. He had withdrawn to his quarters in record speed, avoiding Krios to not give him the satisfaction of seeing Luke like this, show him how much this had got to him, and how enraged he was to be finding this out now, not trusted by Kronos either, much like how gods never trusted demigods.
He paced around thinking. How he wished to destroy this demigod city, bring down their little safe heaven on their heads… He was aware that it would all be a fantasy, he would be on the other side of the country serving a very different purpose in Kronos’s plans, even if he disregarded that he was not supposed to know any of this in the first place.
He wondered if the gods would even notice or care if he were to launch an attack on this Roman camp. Would they come to their aid or ignore it like they ignored Camp Half Blood? Would this city be able to stand against them? They weren’t just bunch teens fighting to survive another day.
He wondered if this was truly a safe heaven. It had been so easy to get in, if had known before he could have just snuck in, blended in with them and then… Who knew the possibilities? He could have been a college student by now. He could be thinking about parties and school instead of waging war against the gods.
It reminded him of old times, and old dreams of having a family. Dreams he had deemed impossible and dismissed before he ran away from home. Thalia and Annabeth had reignited those dreams for a brief moment, he thought that they would get to safety of camp and be a little family. It didn’t work out as planned and the rest was history.
There was a rekindling of that hope though. Annabeth lived so close. They could run away again, this time to an actually safe place, where they could live. Maybe the Titan army would fail without him to gather forces, do the dirty work and be Kronos’s host when the time came. He was under no illusion though, and knew that he would be replaced by another unlucky demigod and the plans would proceed.
But maybe he could visit Annabeth, talk to her about this new discovery and they could hide in this new camp, this city. It would be hoping for the best, for avoiding the utter destruction that he wanted to badly just a few moments ago. But they could have a life. Gods he wanted a life, and Annabeth was probably the only person he might not have burned all bridges with. Her childhood crush had been so obvious and his betrayal had been so unexpected to her. There could be a way go convince her to join him in this harebrained idea, this slim chance. She could rebuild this city to her heart’s content if they lived through the war.
It was a stupid idea, but one he still wanted to try. He had been naturally gifted with sneaking, and he doubted any titans actually cared about what he did. Annabeth lived so close…
She refused to listen. Luke had never imagined a day where Annabeth refused to even listen. He said it would be like the old days, them against the world, hoping that it would be like the old days. She wouldn’t hear it.
She had changed. Probably because of the son of Poseidon getting to her. She no longer looked at Luke the way she used to. Luke couldn’t blame her, he had betrayed her. But a pert of him desired her loyalty, her love. He wanted to go back to the times when it all seemed simpler. Maybe he would’ve done things differently.
He wondered what made Percy think differently from him, when he had been so certain he would be an ally. When he had planted all the seeds, had that conversation and had the response that he did not expect. He wondered what he did to tie Annabeth to him, who loved Luke, who perhaps would have followed Luke if it wasn’t for Percy. He wouldn’t get to know. Annabeth had made that clear.
There had been pain in her eyes, like she wanted to listen, to give him a chance. Perhaps she could hear the pain in his voice, see the urgency of his manic actions. But her stance had been clear. He hadn’t been able to get the words out when facing her. Manipulating her felt wrong, even if he would have done it before, it felt so wrong to do it at that moment. He wanted something genuine when his entire life was consumed by manipulation. He had fumbled and stuttered and wasn’t able to get a word across except running away. How could he even convince her that the Roman gods were out there with a city when he had lied to her so many times.
He felt hollow when the door was closed to his face. He couldn’t blame her really, he was far too deep to run away, he had brought this on himself, even if this was not what he had wanted when he had first struck a deal with Kronos to serve him. Now the only thing left was to watch the world burn and turn it over, brick by brick if he couldn’t have it. There was nothing left for him, and soon, there would be nothing left of him.