𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, luke castellan

ꜰɪꜰᴛʏ-ɴɪɴᴇ

Break the Silence.

🧶

    Rory sat in the dimly lit meeting room, her fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table as her eyes drifted to the empty chair at the head. It loomed like a specter, once Luke’s rightful place before Atlas had claimed it. Now it stood vacant, awaiting Kronos’s rise—or perhaps, Luke’s return to power. A sharp pang twisted in her chest at the thought. She tore her gaze away, but it unwillingly landed on Luke, seated directly across from her. His eyes were locked on hers, unwavering, piercing through her like he was trying to see everything she wasn’t saying.

    She looked away quickly.

    The room was filled with the elites of Kronos’s army—monsters, disgraced demigods, and turncoats from Camp Half-Blood—all huddled around the table. Their faces were grim, their attention divided between whispered side conversations and the maps sprawled across the tabletop. The air was thick with tension, the kind that always clung to meetings like this. They were talking about the Labyrinth again, strategizing ways to use it as a weapon against Camp Half-Blood.

    Rory tried to focus, to absorb the plans and weigh in where necessary. She was supposed to be here, supposed to contribute. But it was impossible to concentrate with Luke sitting there, watching her like he was searching for cracks in her armor. She didn’t know what he was looking for—anger? Betrayal? Guilt? It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of all three.

    She leaned forward, clearing her throat. "We can navigate the maze by using Ariadne's String."

    All eyes turned toward her, some curious, others skeptical, and a few outright hostile. “And how do you suggest we do that?” a dracaenae hissed from her place at the table, her golden eyes narrowing.

    Rory shrugged, leaning back slightly as if to show she wasn’t intimidated. "We make a deal with Daedalus. Offer him something he can’t refuse.”

    There was a ripple of murmurs around the table, some nods of agreement, some thoughtful hums. It seemed like a simple enough solution: find Daedalus, exploit his weaknesses, and get the string. Rory let her mind race through possible offers. They could promise him safety or power—or even lie about their intentions entirely if they had to. Anything to get him to comply.

    "What about Minos?" someone else asked.

    Rory stiffened instantly, her fingers curling into fists beneath the table. She didn’t want to talk about Minos. Didn’t want to think about him. Because if she did, the memories would come rushing back, pulling her under. And then she’d start thinking about Chris.

    Chris. His face flashed in her mind, pale and desperate, his voice raw with fear as he begged her not to leave him. She had left anyway. She had turned her back on him, on his pleas. She’d told herself she had no choice, that the Labyrinth would have claimed them both if she’d stayed. But the guilt clung to her like a second skin, impossible to shed no matter how many times she tried to justify it.

    “We’ll make a deal with him too,” Luke’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

    Her eyes snapped to him, narrowing slightly. “The only thing Minos wants is Daedalus dead,” she pointed out, her tone sharp. “We can’t possibly uphold both deals at the same time.”

    Luke met her gaze, unflinching. "Who said anything about upholding them?"

    His words were calm, almost indifferent, but they sent a shiver down Rory’s spine. There it was, that cold pragmatism. One of the many advantages of shedding moral qualms: they didn’t have to play fair. Honor was irrelevant. Promises were just tools, easily discarded once their purpose was served.