Chapter Text
“Is this really the only way?” Annabeth’s voice wavered, but I barely turned as I reached for the tent flap. The others had already left to prepare for the assault. All the counselors except us. I had just finished explaining our tactics—we had agreed this was the best option.
She had been silent through the whole briefing. I’d hoped she would offer insight, some last-minute idea we hadn’t considered. So why now?
“Luke, seriously.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t think—I don’t think I can do this.”
She wouldn’t look at me, but I saw it. Not just fear—something worse. Fear of me. Of what I’d think. Of what I’d do. Like she expected me to cast her aside for hesitating. As if that was even possible.
I forced a calm expression, the same one she had seen a hundred times. The one that told her everything would be fine.
“It’s okay, Annabeth,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “If you don’t want to, I’ll send someone else. I know this is hard—”
“If it was just hard, that wouldn’t be the problem.” She hugged herself, arms crossed tight. “We’re talking about taking lives, Luke. Not monsters. Not some faceless enemy. People like us. Half-bloods. Kids.”
I swallowed down my frustration. “We didn’t start this war.”
“And we’re supposed to end it? Like this? Like murderers?”
“We’re not murderers,” I said, sharper than I intended. “We’re defending ourselves.”
Her eyes widened, like I was someone she didn’t recognize. She was different from this morning, I can vaguely understand what happened in those woods. Of course it would change her, but she’s stronger for it. Harden and more stubborn, yet she didn’t lose that light inside her. That alone deserves praise, but it also strengthens her resolve. This time to my detriment, I don’t know if I should be proud or angry, maybe both.
“Luke, you talked about gunning down kids,” she said, her voice cracking. “Casually. Like killing them by the dozen was just another obstacle. How can you say that? This isn’t what Chiron taught us. This isn’t what Thalia—”
“You think I want this?!” The words ripped from my throat before I could stop them. I took a step forward, and she flinched. The moment she said Thalia’s name, my mask cracked.
She didn’t understand. How could she not understand? This wasn’t a camp skirmish. Not a stupid game of Capture the Flag. This was war. People died in war. That’s how it worked. What did she expect me to do? Shake hands with the enemy? Beg for mercy?
“This is war, Annabeth. Plain and simple. If we don’t act, the entire camp dies. Everyone we know dies. Are you willing to let that happen?”
She didn’t answer.
“You don’t get it,” I pressed on. “You have no idea what we’re up against. They outnumber us a million to one. They have monsters.” My hands curled into fists. “This isn’t a puzzle you can solve without getting your hands dirty. This is survival.”
Still, she stood there, silent. Her face looked surprised, but her eyes were empty.
“Not just us,” I said, my voice turning sharp. “The younger kids. The ones who don't know what's even going on. They’ll die, Annabeth. Every single one of them. Unless we do something.” I jabbed a finger toward the tent’s opening. “Unless you have a better plan.”
Nothing.
“Come on,” I demanded. “Tell me!”
Her lips trembled, but no words came.
“Tell me, Annabeth!”
Her whole body shook.
“If you’re so smart, then tell me!”
“I don’t know!” Her voice cracked, the force of it shaking the weapon racks. She hugged her arms tighter, like she was trying to hold herself together. “I don’t know, Luke. I just—this is wrong. All of it. We’re not killers. None of us are. And making the others make that choice—it’s horrible.” She took a shaky breath. “We’re just kids. Some of us can’t even hold a sword, let alone take a life. There has to be another way.”
How naive, she’s just a child. An ignorant child.
“Annabeth, if there was one, don’t you think I’ve already found it?” I dropped my arms in frustration. The nerve of her, acting like she knows better than me. She thinks she can preach to me about morality, judge me for my actions. I don’t answer to anyone. Not Chiron. Not Mr. D. Not Kronos. Only me.
“Luke, I’m not saying you didn’t try. It’s just… There has to be another option. I remember when they used that metal net to stop us. We could use that. Or that sleeping gas—Mr. D had some in the Big House. We don’t have to kill anyone.”
“Annabeth…” I growled.
“Or that itching bomb the Stoll brothers made. It could distract them long enough for us to tie them up.”
“Annabeth…”
“There are other ways, I just know it.”
“Annabeth, enough.” I was done with this conversation. It was just the wishful thinking of a child, desperately trying to cling to her innocence. But we all have to grow up someday. The world doesn’t care. It isn’t fair. If she’s not going to give me anything useful, then this conversation is over.
I turned my back to her. Her eyes locked on mine, and I saw it—the betrayal. I could almost feel the cracks in her psyche. For a moment, I almost stepped back, wanting to hug her and apologize. But if I gave in now, it would make me look weak. And that was something I couldn’t afford. A leader has to stand firm, no matter what. I couldn’t risk questioning my authority. If I wanted to lead armies, I had to show them strength. I would not be weak. Not again. They would pay for attacking my home. I am the king here, and I won’t tolerate disrespect.
“Luke…” Annabeth’s voice was softer as I was about to leave. “You didn’t even try, did you? Thalia would never have done this!” She shouted, and my entire world shook.
“What you say?” I seethed, the scar on my chest aches.
“You heard me! She was a hero! She would never have agreed to this. Do you even remember what she did? She always saved others, even if it meant sacrificing herself. She was selfless, kind. And what you’re doing spits on everything she stood for!”
That… This…
“Stood for…” I repeated, my anger flaring. “You don’t get it, do you? You think you knew her better than me!?”
I turned around, my voice dangerously low. What is she saying? Does she not know what’s in stake here? What about my plans, Kronos army, the invasion of Olympus, all of that dies with camp half-blood. All the sacrifices, what would be the point of it all!? What would be the point of this war!?
I took a step closer, and she instinctively stepped back. But then she stopped, holding her ground. Her gray eyes reflected mine, like the moon reflecting the sun.
“Annabeth,” I said slowly, deliberately. “Are you really this stupid?”
“Luke?” she hiccuped, clearly confused.
“What’s this to you? A game? You think after all this we’re just going to sit around a campfire and laugh it off?” My hands gripped her shoulders so tightly it hurt, but she needed to hear this. “You think they care what you think? No. You give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Thalia would’ve said the same.”
“Luke… You’re hurting me…”
“They’re scum. They came here to kill us, to enslave us. They burned everything we’ve worked for, poisoned my land, take my people. Why show them mercy!? They deserve to die!” She struggled against my grip, but I wouldn’t let go. She needed to understand.
“Annabeth, listen to me. Get off your high horse and listen!” My voice was low, threatening. “If we don’t take them down, they’ll wipe us all out. We need to strike hard and fast. They think they can just walk in my camp, destroy everything, and walk away scot-free? They’re nothing Annabeth. They’re nothing compared to me. They must be punished.”
She wasn’t hearing me. She kept fighting, trying to break free. I had to make her see.
“Annabeth, Annabeth! They won’t win. I’ll make sure of it. They came here, spit on everything I’ve built—”
“Luke!” She broke free and slapped me hard across the face.
I blanked out for a moment. The gall.
A rush of anger surged through me, sudden and overwhelming, like an avalanche crashing down. My body moved on instinct—my arm swinging before I even realized what I was doing.
Then I saw her eyes.
Wide with fear.
My breath hitched.
I grabbed my other arm, forcing it to stop mere centimeters from her face. That’s when the reality of what was about to do, I was going to backhand her, Annabeth. My fingers trembled, hovering in the air, too close—too damn close.
“Luke.” She huffed with tears in her eyes. “Luke, what’s happened to you?”
“Anna…” My throat felt tight. I didn’t know what to say—there was nothing I could say. Nothing that could justify this.
“The Luke I know would never do this.” She rubbed her shoulders, scratching them furiously.
“Annabeth, I’m…” The words caught in my throat, refusing to come out.
She didn’t even look at me. She just turned and stormed out of the tent, never once glancing back. I didn’t blame her. When she was gone, I stood there in silence. What did I just do?
I wanted to say I wasn’t in control, but that would be a lie. I was. I felt everything—the anger, the frustration, the hurt—boiling over until it all exploded. I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could see was red. Just thinking about it disgusted me. What the hell am I doing with my life?
I tried to hurt…
I’ve known her since she was a little girl. I trained her. I protected her. She was my sister. When Thalia… When she… I swore I’d never let something like that happen again. To anyone. And now? Now, I almost—no. No.
I gripped my head as a sharp, splitting pain shot through my skull. My temples throbbed like they were being crushed in a vice. I clenched my teeth so hard I tasted blood.
This can’t be real. I would never—Brother—I’m sor—
“No! I’m not!...”
The scream tore out of me. Just as it came I looked around in a panic. No one was there. Even then, the relief never came. I hadn’t even noticed I was on the ground. Slowly, I picked myself up, wiping the sweat from my brow. My wounds ached, burning like fire in my veins.
I muttered the words of healing, watching as glowing hieroglyphs flickered to life in the air. They shimmered, then sank into my skin, numbing the pain. But I didn’t know how long it would last.
“Damn it.”
The stress was getting to me. At this rate, it would delay my plans even further. My injuries are worsening, once I expel the invaders I needed to tap into the ley lines again. Then I need to rethink my strategy. Then I’ll fix things, with Annabeth, with the camp, Thalia. I’ll finally get this over with. A fresh wave of anger surged through me. Of course. This was their fault. Everything was going fine until they showed up. I straightened, standing taller than before, my resolve burning hotter than ever.
They would regret this. The invaders would rue the day they crossed the King of Kings.
I strode out of the tent and into battle.
We had been in position for half an hour. The plan was simple: we didn't have the numbers for a direct battle, so we resorted to guerrilla tactics. Not everyone agreed—especially Clarisse and the remnants of Cabin Five—but they understood the reality. We couldn’t afford more losses. Our nectar supply was already running low. Besides, we had the advantage of knowing the terrain. That was the only edge we had. Most of us left were the lucky ones—if you could call it that. There were only a handful over fourteen years, none under ten. Our only real fighters were the survivors from Cabin Five, and even they were down to half their number.
I scouted ahead with my familiars. The enemy had been thorough—ransacking the camp with ruthless efficiency. From what I observed, their goal wasn’t just destruction; they wanted captives. Why, I couldn’t say. They even set traps—campers locked in cages, calling out for help, only for rescuers to be caught in turn. Regrettably, it worked.
The camp was nearly empty. Those who remained were hiding in the woods, but even that refuge was vanishing—torches lighting up the undergrowth. The strawberry fields had been scoured, the armory looted, every building being burnt. I couldn’t see a single thing that wasn’t burning. Just watching it filled me with fury. If I still had the leylines, they would know what real fire was.
Now, they were gathering around the amphitheater. From above, I saw them—campers packed into cages, squirming and sobbing. Soldiers stood guard, while monsters patrolled the perimeter. More forces were arriving by the minute. But why?
That’s when I saw it—the way they were lined up, their spears raised in eerie silence. A red carpet? They had instruments and confetti, even setting up a table with rows of food. All along a huge fire that roared into the sky. Is this a potluck? What are they doing?
Whatever it was, they were exposed, easy pickings for long-range weaponry. The problem was getting there, though there's not much of us, it's enough to be noticeable.
I brushed against a shrub, steadying myself with my crook. We were marching through the woods, heading straight for the mess hall—then across the river to the climbing wall. Behind me, a handful of Ares kids followed, each armed with the best weapons the camp could spare. I’d like to call us an elite strike force, but that would be a lie. Most of our veterans were either captured or gone. These were the best close-range fighters we had left. They were good, but I knew I’d be doing most of the work.
Our mission wasn’t to win—it was to create as much chaos as possible while the real army moved into position. We had to hit them hard, tear through their lines, and keep them distracted. Under normal circumstances, this would be a suicide mission.
That’s exactly why I chose to be in it.
With me here, no one has to die. And I’m certain—I can hurt them more than the whole camp combined.
A lot of the counselors were against this plan. As the most senior camper, the most experienced in battle, they said I should be leading the army, organizing the attack from the front lines. And on any other day, I would have agreed.
But this was personal.
I wanted them to suffer. And I didn’t want the camp to see me like this. It was too soon to reveal myself, and I wasn’t confident I could erase the memories of so many at once.
I didn’t even need this squad, but the others refused to let me go alone. “No one man can fight so many,” they said.
Fools. I’m not just some man.
I didn’t need commanders—I could lead the entire camp myself.
I closed my eyes, shifting my sight through my familiars. I saw Clarisse and Lee leading the main force toward the Big House. They would restock on supplies, then take the back route to the amphitheater. By then, I would have the full attention of the enemy. With their focus on me, the main force would hit them from behind—catch them with their pants down.
My vision switched to Castor and Pollux. I left them in charge of the resistance tents. As long as my concealment and protection charms were fueled, nothing would touch them. They wanted to fight, but I convinced them they were needed elsewhere—a perfect way to keep them out of danger.
I’m not doing this because of him .
Finally, I turned my sight to Annabeth. She was with the main army. She didn’t agree with my methods, but she stayed with them—to keep the casualties low. If anything, she was the safest of them all. All of my cats were deployed in her shadow, even if she didn’t know it. That force would be more than enough to wipe out any monsters or soldiers in their path.
I doubt they even needed the extra protection. I had already armed them with every civil war weapon I’d created from the bunker—bombs, guns, swords, bayonets—all forged through my magecraft. If anything, it was overkill. The enemy was still relying on close-range weapons, trapped in outdated tactics. They didn’t stand a chance.
My hand slid down my crook—a familiar habit from my other life. The metal and gems pulsed with mana, a steady rhythm that felt like second nature. The things I could do with it made me smile. Behind me, a few of the Ares kids snickered. They thought I looked like a shepherd. My rage boiled at the implication. Fine. I’ll let the enemy be the ones to learn otherwise. We reached the clearing where the mess hall stood—or what was left of it.
The pavilion was a wreck. Marble columns lay in shattered heaps, tables overturned, food rotting where it had been abandoned. Broken wood, shattered glass, the sickening stench of decay and blood. So much blood.
It looked like a battlefield. But there were no corpses.
No soldiers.
Only monsters, picking at the scraps.
Behind me, the Ares kids trembled—equal parts fear and rage. This was where they had made their last stand. Where they had lost Victor. Where half their cabin had fallen beside him. They wanted revenge. They wanted to pay back the humiliation tenfold. For now, they would have to settle for the remnants.
“Well, are you ready?” I asked, turning to my team.
They were a ragtag bunch, all Ares kids, each carrying a thirst for blood and a heavy chip on their shoulders. Cabin Five had always been the most battle-hardened, the ones who believed any problem could be solved with enough brute force. Considering who their father was, I supposed it had to be genetic. I studied their faces—each one radiating the unmistakable mark of Ares. Not in their features, but in the raw, simmering bloodlust they carried. Yet, beneath that, I saw something else. Something too human for their godly father to comprehend.
Grief. Pain. Mortality.
It would carry them far, but not in the way they expected. They didn’t think they were coming back from this. They were running on fumes, fueled by nothing but rage and loss. I appreciated them. I was even proud to call them my comrades. But…
“Before we do this, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I gestured for them to come closer. They didn’t hesitate. I was the most senior fighter, the leader of this group. They probably thought I was about to give some rousing speech about glory, perseverance, or facing death without fear.
But death is the ultimate failure. I won’t let that happen. Not to them. Not to anyone from camp.
I spoke the divine words—sleep, dream, suggestion. Their eyes fluttered, their bodies wavered, and one by one, they collapsed into unconsciousness.
With a wave of my crook, a thick camouflage enveloped them, weaving a protective layer over their sleeping forms. Come next morning, they would wake up with false memories of how they got there, of what they had done. They would think they had fought, that they had made a difference. That they had survived.
“You’ll thank me later,” I murmured, stepping into the clearing alone.
I spot a cyclops in front of me, hunched over, still tearing through scraps of discarded food. He hasn’t noticed me yet. He doesn’t even look up before I fire—a beam of pure light piercing through his skull. Cyclopes are usually immune to fire, but my power isn’t just fire. It’s the sun itself, a force that vaporizes anything it touches. The impossible happens—the one-eyed giant burns. He doesn’t even crumble. In an instant, his body is nothing but ash.
That’s when the other monsters notice me.
These wretched creatures don’t even have time to understand what’s happening before I unleash my power. A pulse of fire erupts from me, devouring everything in its path. Stone ignites, wood vanishes, metal drips like molten wax, and flesh ceases to exist. The world around me is reduced to an epicenter of ash—nothing can resist me. No monster, no man.
I am the sun. I am the sky. There is no one above me.
An arrow turns to ash five feet from me, its remains scattering to the ground. I look ahead—frog-like abominations crouch in the distance, trying to pelt me with arrows. I don’t recognize them. They aren’t normal frogs. Their skin is a sickly orange, teetering on yellow, and the air around them stinks of sulfur.
When I think of frogs, I think of Heqet—of green, of water, of fertility and rebirth. These things are nothing like that. Fire and brimstone, a half-life with no natural order. They are wrong. A perversion of magecraft.
Disgusting.
I don’t even spare them a glance. I walk forward, flick my wrist, and seventeen beams of light pierce their skulls in an instant. Now, their blood stains my grass, polluting it with their filth. With a tap of my crook, their bodies crumble to ash. These weren’t ordinary monsters—they were made. That means there’s a mage nearby, one arrogant enough to think they could be in my domain. I’ll show them the price of their insolence. I’ll flog the mage before their peers for forty days, only then will I grant them the mercy of death.
Mages, all of them were sniveling hermits that lived in the outskirts of society, I doubt that changed even today. In my experience, they’re as pompous as priests, and most are little more than charlatans.
Could it be the intruders? The ones who breached the barrier earlier? That servant had a mage with him—this could be a calculated attack. But if that were true, why reveal themselves at all? They allowed themselves to be captured after all. And none of them carried the same malice I sensed before—the red star, the thing that severed my connection to the leyline. No, something else is at play here.
I stretch my senses, looking for any more signs of the enemy. If I could find a stray soldier, maybe I could do something. Maybe they left clues behind, though I doubt I’ll find any. There’s no signs of life here. Looks like they just wrecked the place and left, like a terrible party guest.
Nothing. Nothing.
I try not to look at the wreckage of the pavilion, but it’s impossible to ignore. Just this morning, campers were sitting at these tables—laughing, eating. I can still hear their voices. The Stoll brothers had started another food fight and they wondered why I never made them co-counselors. I can almost see Trish and Jasmine at their usual spot, hear Beckendorf failing miserably at not flirting across tables while everyone rolled their eyes. Clarisse and Annabeth sneering at each other, the silent tension crackling between Cabins Five and Six. An Apollo kid trying to break into song while Cabin Ten complained about their meals.
It was chaos, but it was warm. It was home.
Now, there’s only silence. Most of them are probably—taken or dead.
They will pay. I’ll make sure of it.
I couldn’t look anymore. I walked straight through the wreckage, burning anything in my way. This place was once the heart of the camp. Now, it’s nothing but a corpse. Even if we survive this, I doubt it will ever be the same again.
When I finally stepped beyond the ruins, I commanded the fires to die. The heat vanished, leaving behind only silence. I turned back, staring at the charred remains. One day, I’ll rebuild it—not as it was, but as something greater. A seat of glory. Higher than the temples, more magnificent than the piers of Olympus. It will be the jewel of my dynasty. And under its roof, all will feast like gods. Despite the tragedy, I actually smiled. Maybe I’d even let Annabeth design it for me.
Annabeth, I’ll fix this. Don’t worry. Then it’ll be just like old times—back when Thalia was… But this time, it’ll be even better. Nothing can stop me now. How could anyone stop inevitability? I will rise like the sun and bathe everything in my light. This world, everything—I will save it all.
With a spring in my step, I made my way toward the river. Not even the waters could stop me. A simple wave of my hand, and they would part. I giggled to myself, skipping across the riverbed, watching with delight as the waters stilled under my magic. Fish hung motionless in the liquid, gravity itself bending to my will. It was funny—so very, very…
Why is this… Why do I…?
I blinked, and the water crashed over me. This part of the river wasn’t deep—just enough to reach my shoulders, barely above my head. The force of it pushed me back slightly, the icy chill shocking me awake as it splashed against my face. A part of me wanted to blast the water away. Another part wanted to throw up. I struggled against the current, gripping my crook and dragging myself to the other shore. The moment I reached the grass, my knees gave out, and I collapsed.
What was… I… I… Who…? I remembered the sea parting, that blinding light. The light of the stars—his light. My friend, my brother. My delight, my longing, my rage, my sorrow. I dared to speak his name—Mos—
“Mos—gods!” I choked, heaving onto the grass. No. No. I’m not. I’m not. I’m not. Ah… Luke Castellan. That was… That was my name. Right?
I trembled, gripping my crook like a lifeline as I pulled myself up. My wound burned, a searing pain that made my vision blur. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stand. The water had seeped into my scar, making the pain spike. I whispered the words again, letting them drift into the air before sinking into my chest. I was speaking to the Duat, drawing power directly from my Ren . The words left my name and became reality. Slowly but surely, my wound closed. By the time it was done, I was drenched in sweat. Or was that the river? I couldn't tell anymore.
After two breaths, I walked on, leaning heavily on my crook. That couldn’t—shouldn’t—happen again. It was like waking from a dream, or maybe a daze. I was myself, and yet… I wasn’t. It confused the hell out of me.
It’s getting worse. I-I didn’t…
The command spell had been a whisper in the back of my mind, slow and subtle at first. But now, it was growing stronger, tightening its grip. What happened back there blurred the line between me and Rider—I didn’t even realize it was happening. Will it reach the point of no return? Will I even remember being Luke? Would I even want to?
Why is this happening now!? I shook my head violently, gripping my crook so hard it could have snapped in half. I don’t have time for this. None of us do. I forced myself forward, one step, then another. These pieces of me, they were fighting each other. No—I was fighting to keep them apart. I don’t want to be Rider. He embodies everything I despise—arrogance, cruelty. Just like the gods. Just like my father. He could never understand humans.
"Humans cannot become gods, and gods cannot become humans."
That’s my Ren , my true name. Rider was the antithesis of who I am.
If I became him, I would be just like the gods. The same gods who ruined my life. The thought made me sick. One day, would I wake up and be everything I hate? Bile churned in my stomach, burning like acid. My scars ached, a reminder of everything I had fought against. Yet, deep down, I knew—I couldn’t win without him. His power, his strength—it was intoxicating. I could just let go, lose myself in it, and everything would be easy. Even now, I was using his power. I was shaking, fists clenched in rage. I couldn’t deny him anymore. The command spell wouldn’t let me.
"I'm in hell," I muttered, staring at the distant fires of the camp I once called home. Monsters prowled the grounds, the same grounds where they had imprisoned and slaughtered the very people I was supposed to protect. Everything I did was for them—to keep them safe, to make sure no demigod would ever suffer again. I thought I could shield them from it all. That this war would only involve me . Gods damn it. I was so naive.
And the only way I could protect everyone… was to become Rider. To become the very thing I was fighting against. The hypocrisy was thick, bitter on my tongue—I could taste it. It’s not like I wasn’t already doing it. Now, I just had to admit it. I could feel the magic bubbling under my skin, waiting for me to reach out and take it. I always told myself I barely used that power, but who was I kidding? I used it all the time. I just justified it as ordinary magecraft, something anyone could do—even though I knew that was a lie. I should rip off the bandage now. But doing that would mean abandoning my ideals, giving up my beliefs for the easier path.
What do I even believe in?
Mr. D said never to lose sight of my goals. That’s where the gods went wrong. But what was my goal? What was my wish?
I hate the gods. I want to tear Olympus down, bring an end to the Age of Gods. I want to separate the divine from the mortal world, to finally be free of their tyranny. But as much as I told myself that, deep down, that was never really my goal.
My wish… my real wish… was to make sure no one else suffered like Thalia did. To stop what happened to her from happening to anyone else. I wanted all of us—every half-blood—to be free from this curse, from the constant misery, from dying a dog’s death. From being misunderstood, hated, feared, used. I wanted us to be free from being demi-gods. Free from fate itself.
Was that my wish?
If it was, then what did it matter if I became Rider? If it meant Annabeth, all of them, could live that dream. I’d already sold my soul to the devil. What was one more sin?
Which is more important to me? My beliefs or that dream… It’s not a choice, is there?
A soft light radiated from me, warm and gentle, like summer rays on a lazy afternoon. Then came the fire, engulfing me, reshaping me. My clothes unraveled into nothing, reforming in gold and white. A white cape draped over my shoulders, my cuirass shifted into a black shent, and my gauntlets gleamed gold, laced with veins of lapis lazuli. The wounds I’d carried moments ago felt like a bad memory, fading under the touch of old magic, making me whole again.
Strange. I thought this would feel worse—that I’d feel the weight of my sacrifice, the sting of betraying my own principles. But instead, it felt familiar. Like an old friend. My hand brushed my hip. Backbiter was still there, sheathed at my side. The one thing I hadn’t changed. A piece of the old me.
I was filled with euphoria—or was it relief? I could finally stop caring. With a flick of my cape, I raised my crook toward the sky. Dark storm clouds loomed above me, thunder rumbling in the distance.
A sky with no sun? I giggled. Well, that’s something I’ll have to fix.
All at once, the light around me intensified. The grass erupted into flames, the air sizzled and warped, waves of heat rolling outward in every direction. Even the river began to boil. If I were an ordinary human, I would have been reduced to ashes by now.
I looked up. The sky was dark, starless—you’d think it was night.
Shall I grace these invaders with a proper morning?
I am the sun. I am the sky. Wind howled at my feet as a storm coiled around my crook. Without a second thought, I took to the air, light trailing behind me like the tail. From on high, I looked down upon the camp. I could see my army advancing, just reaching the Big House. Good. It was time to do my part.
By now, they had to have noticed me. I turned my gaze toward the amphitheater, where the invaders had taken refuge. Should I summon lightning to smite their camp? Reduce them all to ash? No. I would go there myself. They would see me. They would know who had destroyed them. And they would know that I had done it alone. My light burned even brighter. Behind me, Uraeus took form, her serpent body coiling, her tail curling into the shape of the Eye of Ra. Yes. This was the perfect ending. They would know the wrath of the King of Kings.
I fell from the sky—like a star—crashing into the heart of the invaders. The impact obliterated the stage, leaving behind nothing but a massive crater. They had no time to react before beams of searing light shot from Uraeus, cutting through them like a scythe through wheat. Armor melted, flesh vaporized—enchanted metal crumbled under the might of the sun.
Twelve died instantly to the beams. Thirty-four perished in the explosion.
I didn’t even blink, they were like weeds to me; disgusting things that intrude on my domain. I could hear their cries and pleas, they still didn't understand what’s happening.
I laughed. I suppose I was too bright for them.
Half of them had already gone blind staring at me. I could see it in the way they fumbled, confused, afraid. With a thought, I lowered my radiance just slightly, just enough to keep it contained around my body. By now, they should have a clear look at my face. Even then, it took them a moment to adjust. I could have attacked. I should have attacked. But I granted them this small mercy. The closest soldier locked eyes with me, wide with terror. I watched him look down at the ashes surrounding my feet. I could see his mind working, see the fear creeping in. It was only natural. What can a man do against the sun?
I straightened, speaking with the authority of my station. “Greetings, invaders,” my voice rang through the ruined amphitheater. “I am the King of these lands. I have come for your surre—”
The soldier charged, his armor surprisingly holding up as he reached me. He’s fast. I'll give him that, but not enough. I unsheathed Backbiter and swiped his body, then just as fast sheath before a drop of blood touched my blade. Not that it mattered. His blood never hit the ground. It evaporated instantly. His body ignited in a flash of golden fire, reduced to ash before it even touched the earth.
I heard the collective gasps from the audience.
"As I was saying." I angled my crook, tracing a slow, deliberate arc in the air, its tip sweeping across the gathered invaders. "I will happily accept your surrender. Drop your weapons now, and I will grant you the mercy befitting those who would serve as my slaves."
I waited a moment, letting my words settle in, my magecraft amplifying my voice so none could pretend they hadn’t heard.
“S-Slaves?” A panicked voice called from the back.
I smiled. “Yes,” I answered smoothly. “And I assure you, it will be far better than the alternative. I treat my slaves well—you’ll be fed, clothed, housed. I’ll even teach you to read and write. Am I not a generous king?” My tone dripped with mockery.
Silence.
I got their undivided attention. Good. While they stood frozen, I took the opportunity to study them more closely. Most of the soldiers were young—some even Annabeth’s age. Their armor was gold, yet many wore no protection at all. A desperate, ragtag band. Urchins dressed as warriors. A part of me felt pity. I half-wondered if they’d accept my offer. It would be a better life than this.
“No one makes a slave of Romans!” A shout pierced the air. I barely registered it. My attention was drawn elsewhere. My gaze swept across the scene, taking stock of everything. Upturned tables, broken food, weapons, nets, instruments, armor, and sacks. At the edges of the amphitheater, hidden from sight, I saw them. Campers trapped in cages, monsters standing guard over them—bait, of course. I see, my decision was made.
“I’ve changed my mind. The alternative it is.”
I said it casually, but the shift in tone sent a wave of unease through the invaders. They started to gather in a group, clearly preparing to charge. Why were they making this so easy?
“You’ll make great fertilizer.”
The words left my lips like a whisper before the storm. As they charged, I raised my crook and waved it lazily. A single beam shot out, tearing through their ranks, blasting them apart in an instant.
“Innocent or not,” I muttered, “I’ll let Ammit sort you out.”
Their screams were nothing but whispers in the wind, their bodies reduced to ash. Then, all at once, they retaliated. Arrows rained down, spears hurled through the air, and shields formed a wall as they charged forward. The arrows ignited in flames, the spears followed suit, and their shields began to melt under the heat.
I drew Backbiter again, the blade gleaming with deadly light. Each swing felt like the force of the sun itself, turning their armor into molten butter, slicing through flesh with ease. Fourth-degree burns were the least of their worries. My sword was at home here, cutting through the chaos like a scythe. A fusion of steel and celestial bronze, it was a statement—meant to carve through monsters and mortals alike, to prove just how far I’d go for that dream.
Their screams didn’t even phase me. I didn’t see any blood—just dust, and they didn’t even realize it yet. I could feel their fear creeping in, knowing they couldn’t touch me. The idiots who’d charged at me were fewer now, each one realizing their mistake. They were learning. Eventually, they stopped coming close, avoiding me like the plague, terrified of the fate that awaited anyone who dared. I twirled Backbiter in my hand, tossing it casually up and down, amused. A smile stretched across my face as my eyes rolled in mock exasperation.
“What’s wrong?” I called out, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You had no trouble taking down kids, but now you cower against someone who can actually fight back?”
Silence answered me.
“Well… I guess I’ll have to do all the work myself.”
Suns materialized around the Eye of Ra, and I raised my hand high. I could see the fear in their eyes, that sweet, delicious fear, and I relished it.
“Know this, that you were laid down by the King of King’s. Rejoice for such an honor!”
Without another thought, I snapped my fingers. The suns shot beams of light, streaking across the air like divine spears. They pierced one soldier, then branched out, cutting through the next, the next, and the next. I laughed as more and more of them fell, their chests exploding, the light burning through them like they were nothing more than paper.
Nothing could save them.
The beams branched and branched again, until I stood surrounded by a labyrinth of glowing roots, each one pulsing with the warmth of the sun. It was beautiful. It was my work.
The light faded, and for a moment, there was only silence. Were they all dead?
I strolled forward, casually watching as the bodies burned in my wake. Huh, I thought there’d be more. Actually, shouldn't there have been more? I remember this place being packed, soldiers squeezed into every corner, yet now… there was hardly anyone left. A cold weight dropped into my stomach.
Did they leave? No, I was supposed to be the distraction. They had to have seen me. I made myself as obnoxious as possible, after all. I whispered the divine words, and falcons appeared on my shoulders, their feathers shimmering like stars. I commanded them to fly into the skies, scouting ahead to see what was going on. While they flew, I paced toward the nearest soldier. He was older, fully armored, and draped in a purple cape—he had to be important. I muttered the words of healing, and a surge of magic shot directly at him. Good thing he was dying and not fully dead.
He coughed weakly, but I didn’t give him much time. With a swift motion, I nailed him with my crook.
I tightened my grip, pressing my crook harder into his stomach. "You. Where are the others?"
He moaned weakly, his body still shuddering in pain.
"Tell me." I grabbed his head, my magecraft seeping into his mind. I spoke the words, compelling him to answer. But there was something blocking me, just like before. Another mystic code, it's preventing my hypnosis.
"Where are they? Where’s your army?!"
The soldier let out a weak, raspy laugh.
"Tell me or I’ll melt your brains out!"
His grin twisted into something cold. "Stupid Greek... there is no army." He coughed violently, his breath ragged. "You've been duped."
What? No, I saw… I see in the sky, through my familiar’s eyes I saw the army—a massive crowd in a still intact amphitheater. An illusion?
"The Augur saw through everything. He knew you'd come here, sorcerer," he spat. He reached up, grabbing my crook with surprising strength, nearly wresting it from my hands.
"What—?"
"You will die here. For New Rome. For our families... die, Greek!" His voice screamed as his blood splattered across my chest.
Enough. I had enough of this. With a burst of power, I shot a hole straight through his chest. His strength instantly drained away, and I knocked his hand from my crook. Frustration surged through me as I turned and walked away from the corpse. Dark thoughts swirled in my head— they fooled me!
Those… Mong–
Then I felt it, something faint from the corpse. No heartbeat, no life… but something. I didn't take any chances. With a wave of my crook, I incinerated the body, turning it to ash. Still that feeling didn’t go away. It was terrible, like the mansion all over again, a slow dripping terror that encompassed everything it touches.
What are they planning? Where did they go? I stormed toward the captives, fury building in my chest. I blasted the monsters guarding them, their forms disintegrating into dust. As I opened the cages, the prisoners vanished into mist. It was true. This was a trap. Do they know the plan? Does that mean... This was just a waste of time. I wasn’t the distraction—I was the one being distracted. Annabeth. The others. They're in danger.
I was about to leave when something grabbed my leg. I looked down, a red hand was emerging from the ground. I kicked it away and blasted it with my crook, but to my surprise, my light didn’t burn it. It just knocked the arm aside. Then the moans started. The corpses were moving. Soldiers—every one of them, even the ones I turned to ash—rose from the ground. Their bodies cracked, contorted unnaturally, bones snapping and muscles stretching in impossible ways. And their eyes… hollow, empty, glowing red.
Ghouls? No, I scanned them with my magecraft. Their ka was still in their bodies. They weren’t dead, not fully, but why did they look like this? A disease? No, this wasn’t some sickness. This was a curse.
They tumbled forward, all of them mumbling the same word over and over again. “Ultio.”
I didn’t hesitate. I drew my sword and slashed at the nearest one, cutting off its arm. But instead of bursting into flames, blood sprayed from the stump. Something about these things was resisting my light.
“Ultio!” the soldier muttered again, unaffected by its severed arm. It lunged at me, its unnatural strength colliding with Backbiter. The impact sent a jolt through my sword, threatening to slip from my grasp. This was beyond human. I didn’t waste time. I spoke the word for fire and blasted its head clean off. Blood sprayed in all directions, but the headless corpse didn’t even burn. It kept coming, relentless—one arm, no head, and still moving with an eerie persistence. They shouldn’t even be alive, but I could feel it. The malice emanating from it, the curse binding it. They weren’t just bodies anymore, they were something worse—vessels of pure hatred.
I leveled my crook and spoke the words of ice. A jagged spike erupted from the ground, impaling the soldier clean through. The force of it sent a crack through the air, freezing his entire torso solid. His remaining limbs twitched and flailed uselessly, but the body itself was stuck in place, trapped like an insect in amber.
Still, I felt no release, no severing of life. Whatever force was keeping them moving, it wasn’t something as simple as flesh or will.
More of them came, shambling forward, their cracked voices moaning the same word over and over. “ Ultio. Ultio.”
I held up my fist, summoning my avatar’s arm. Its massive hand clamped around the nearest soldier, fingers pressing in like a vice. Bones snapped, armor crumpled, and in a single motion, I squeezed—turning the soldier into nothing more than a red paste dripping through my avatar’s fingers. That should have been the end of it. I had destroyed its brain, its heart, every vital organ. There was nothing left to function, no body to move.
And yet, the remains still twitched.
I unclenched my fist, and my avatar mimicked me, letting the broken corpse spill to the ground in a thick, red-black sludge. The thing had no shape anymore, barely even a form. But somehow, it was still alive .
What type of magecraft is this? Who would willingly subject themselves to this?
The malice around me thickened, pressing in from all sides. I was ready to incinerate them all in one strike—until I hesitated. These things are just distractions. Why was I wasting time? They were strong, sure, but that was all. No mind, no strategy—just mindless drones tearing apart anything in sight. Fighting them was pointless. I needed to move.
Storm gathered beneath me as I lifted off the ground, the wind coiling around me, ready to launch me toward Annabeth. Then—
My familiars. They’ve been shot down.
The realization barely had time to settle before I felt it—something cutting through the air, moving faster than a bullet train. I threw up a barrier, but it wasn’t enough. It shattered on impact, and the force slammed me back into the ground.
What—?!
More incoming. I flashed to the side, dodging a barrage of metal bolts. They slammed into the ground, shaking what remained of the amphitheater. The sheer force sent cracks splintering through the stone. I felt another wave aimed at me. I spoke the words, and a wall of glowing hieroglyphics sprang up before me, intercepting the next volley. Each impact hit like a truck, but the barrier held.
Then—
The arrows changed.
The ones embedded in my wall twisted, reshaping into birds. With a shrill cry, they lunged, tearing into my hieroglyphics with beak and claw. One wouldn’t be a problem. But dozens at once? My barrier wouldn’t last long. And that power… I knew it now.
A Servant.
“I am the Heir to Horus! I hold the Eye of Ra!” I raised my crook, and light erupted from the eye, golden and blinding. “I command on high—burn!”
A surge of divine fire exploded outward, consuming everything in its wake. The birds shrieked, their forms unraveling, melting into nothing. Shadows scattered before me as my avatar took shape, towering over the battlefield. I rose within it, radiant and terrible. In its hands, a crook and flail. Upon its head, the sun itself. And perched atop it, a falcon with eyes of pure, searing light.
I leveled my crook in the direction of the arrows and fired. A beam of light obliterated a distance hill, they dodged, one second they were on foot, next they were on horse. My avatar moved, spearing its arms forward, and the Eye of Ra flared to life. Multiple suns ignited around its circumference, each one humming with raw power.
Then released. Beams of light shot into the sky before arcing down, the servant dodged explosion after explosion, weaving through my missiles at impossible speeds. I could faintly see a black figure being chased by strings of light. At first, I thought they were an Archer, but the way they rode, I almost mistook them for a Rider. So a servant with a high Riding skill; not just anyone can outrun my light.
“So you were the one who clouded the sky. A storm with no thunder, how unnatural.” I lifted my crook into the air and spoke the words. The sky commanded and lightning arched from my staff into the storm. It raced along the clouds, heading straight to the servant. The hooded man dodged effortlessly, easily arching over my lightning. His steed was unnaturally nimble, jumping and moving in ways no horse should. I didn’t stop there, I commanded fire, storm, snow, wind, rain. All of it to pelt down the servant. As he rode, a trail of destruction followed.
Is the horse his Noble Phantasm?
Their steed leaped into the air, and in one fluid motion, they loosed an arrow straight for my face. I moved to swat it aside with my avatar, but before my crook could connect, the arrow shifted—morphing into a bird mid-flight, effortlessly slipping past my guard. I barely had time to react before it dove straight for my avatar’s chest, talons gleaming like sharpened metal, ready to tear me from my throne of light.
I blasted it in the head, its metal body melting as it plummeted. But before I could catch my breath, more arrows rained down—each one shifting midair, morphing into a swarm of metallic birds. They dove at me, their razor-sharp beaks and claws tearing into my avatar, pecking and shredding away at the divine form.
"Vermin!" I roared, detonating a burst of divine light. The metal birds shrieked as they melted away, dropping from the sky like charred husks. Then right as it ended an arrow pierced my avatar’s chest, the tip stopping just short of my head.
The force sent my avatar crashing to the ground, the impact shaking the ruined amphitheater. I barely had time to recover before the sound of galloping hooves filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.
I struggled to rise, but massive hands of black mud surged up from the earth, wrapping around my avatar. What was this? I could feel the presence of ka within these constructs, the same malice that oozed from the cursed soldiers. Is this thing alive? The mud was thick, viscous—dregs upon dregs of pain, hatred, curses—every vile emotion humanity had ever known.
This power… This was the Red Star?!
"Ultio!" The soldiers swarmed me again, leaping onto my avatar, stabbing and slashing like frenzied vermin clawing at a trapped giant. The mud tightened its grip, dragging me down, suffocating my light. I struggled, but the more I resisted, the deeper I sank into the earth. The mud coiled over my avatar’s head, trying to drown my divine form in darkness. I could feel the touch of the underworld take hold.
"No. Get your filthy hands off me!" I roared, unleashing a wave of scorching light. Flames erupted, devouring everything in their path. Yet the soldiers did not burn. The mud did not wither. Instead, the heat only hardened it, sealing my prison tighter.
I called upon fire, wind, ice—each force vanishing the moment it touched the sludge. This thing was insatiable, a glutton devouring all without end. My light, my divine fire, smothered by a sea of black hunger. I sent out golden rays, but the mud swallowed them whole. My strength waned. My form flickered. This wretched filth was draining me, leeching my essence. The weight of the earth pressed against my head. Darkness closed in. The sky, once vast and endless, shrank to a dying sliver above me. Then—nothing. The underworld loomed. My divine shell cracked at the seams. And when it shattered, death would claim me.
I remembered, this was no ordinary trap.
This was my trap.
"You… You think this is enough to capture me? I am the King of Egypt! The Incarnation of Ra! I will not be dragged to the underworld! My fate is in the skies! Rise, [Mesektet]!"
A radiance more ancient than the earth itself erupted from within me, obliterating the blackened sludge. As Ra ascends from the depths, so too did I. I became Khepri , the Morning Sun. And as Khepri , I rose. It was law— conceptual law —that I must rise from the underworld. No force in the universe could deny it. The bonds that sought to hold me shattered as dawn split the abyss, and I soared skyward. The mud howled in fury as I left it behind, its trap undone, its hunger denied. I had sprung their snare, and now they wailed like children.
I stood atop my ship, surveying the camp below. The servant was in my sights now—once they were gone, the rest would be easy pickings. I smirked… then winced. A sharp tug within my reserves made my wound flare with pain. Damn it. I couldn’t stay up here much longer. This Noble Phantasm was draining me fast, and it was taking everything I had to keep it from turning the entire camp to ash. I had to finish this—before… Before…
Something caught my eye.
To the left, within the camp, lay Canoe Lake. A man-made lake—well, man-made was a stretch. The Naiads had carved and maintained it, a quiet refuge for campers who found the open sound too intimidating.
But something was wrong.
The lake had eyes. I felt them, watching me from beneath the surface. A pulse of mana surged from the water.
“What the—”
A crimson light erupted from the depths. A beam of energy shot straight at me—point blank.
I didn't have time to set defenses, it struck my ship head-on, a force like a raging storm slamming into me. My ship rocked, struggling to hold form. This… this was a divine construct—how?! That shouldn’t be possible!
I was losing control. My ship was overheating, my mana draining at an alarming rate. I can’t hold it—I won’t be able to maintain it!
I can’t!
With no other choice, I forcefully canceled my Noble Phantasm. The ship shattered, and the beam consumed me in its harsh light. It was terrible, I could feel it invading me, trying to infect me with its malice. I lifted my crook, illuminating myself in a light that shields me from the attack.
The red star. The lake. So that’s where it—Ah!
A searing pain tore through me. An arrow buried itself deep in my stomach, and I screamed as it reverberated through my scars, old wounds flaring in agony. More arrows pierced my shoulder, my leg—this was just like before. Panic flooded me, and I released a pulse of fire, the heat shattering the beam and incinerating the remaining arrows.
But when I opened my eyes, I saw the ground rushing toward me.
If I were a normal human—or even just an average half-blood—that fall would’ve been enough to kill me. The impact still rattled me, though. It didn’t matter that I was a servant now; the force of the crash still left me with a dull ache in my back. If I hadn’t been in this form, it could’ve been much worse.
I pushed myself up with my crook, my body still emitting a red mist of smoke. But I froze when I saw who stood in front of me. A massive man, his entire head cloaked in black, his skin a bright, unsettling red—exactly like the soldiers' eyes. He sat atop a monstrous steed, just as large as he was. The horse wasn’t truly a horse—it was more like a grotesque parody, its form sculpted from dripping black mud. The sight of it made my vision blur, like needles poking into my eyes, and I couldn’t look directly at him. Just his presence alone was enough to make my head throb.
“ You reek of the gods… ” His voice was unbearably deep as he draws his bow.