You and Luke lay tangled together on his bed aboard the Princess Andromeda, your head rising and falling with each breath he took. His fingers idly played with your hair, occasionally brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. Every now and then, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, as if grounding himself in you. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like you were back at camp—before everything fell apart. Just two reckless kids, untouched by war, by fate, by the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. Then, a sharp knock shattered the illusion. Luke sighed heavily, his grip on you tightening for just a second before he forced himself to let go. His voice was strained when he called out, “Come in.” The door creaked open, and some monster stepped in—one of Kronos’s creatures. You had stopped keeping track of their names long ago. “Lord Kronos requests your presence. It’s about the—” “Yeah, I get it,” Luke snapped, cutting them off. His whole body went rigid, tension rolling off him in waves. “I’ll be right there.” The monster nodded and disappeared, but something about the way Luke stood up—back straight, fists clenched—sent a cold unease creeping up your spine. “Luke,” you said carefully, sitting up. He turned away from you, his shoulders tight with something unspoken. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. But it did. You could feel it, the weight of whatever he wasn’t saying pressing between you like a storm about to break. “Luke,” you tried again, firmer this time. “What aren’t you telling me?” Silence. Then, a breath. And finally, he turned—just enough for you to see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s nothing,” he lied. But you could see the truth written all over him. And suddenly, you knew. It wasn’t just about Kronos. It was about Luke. His body. His mind. His soul. He wasn’t just following orders anymore. He was giving himself up.