[Third Person Pov]
Luke let out a sharp scoff and rolled his eyes. "Some things just don't change, do they?"
Lucian actually nodded in agreement. "You're absolutely right."
The unexpected amiability threw Luke off. He stared at the other demigod, brows drawing together in confusion. This was not the reaction he had braced for.
Lucian's grin widened, pure mischief. "I mean, look at you. So much time has passed and you're still a bitch. Things really never change."
Luke's expression twitched. He realized too late that he had walked straight into it. "I hope you know how much I hate your guts."
"I know," Lucian replied, still looking insufferably smug. "I'm the envy of a lot of guys. Get in line, pal."
The words only seemed to irritate Luke further. Atlas, for his part, had long since walked away, clearly unwilling to waste another second entertaining the spectacle unfolding beneath the sky.
Luke marched forward until he stood directly in front of Lucian. His gaze was cold, measuring. "Given your current position, I don't see how you're still able to be this smug."
Lucian was still supporting the crushing weight of the heavens with one arm while the other carefully cradled Zoe's unconscious form against his side. Blood streaked his skin. Sweat beaded along his temples. Yet the smile he offered Luke did not reach his eyes.
"It's called confidence, babe," he said softly. "Not to mention an unbendable iron will. Unlike some people who readily get on their knees for Daddy Kronos."
The double innuendo hung in the air, deliberate and cutting.
A flash of pure irritation ignited behind Luke's eyes. In one smooth motion he drew his sword and pressed the edge against Lucian's cheek.
"Don't think for a single second that I've forgotten everything you did to me," Luke said, voice low and dangerous. He dragged the blade in a shallow line, opening a thin cut that immediately welled with blood. "You're defenseless right now. I could take everything you put me through and give it right back. I could torture you the same way you tortured me, and you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing except take it."
Lucian's grin remained, but it had gone sharp and empty. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
Luke hesitated. Honesty slipped out before he could stop it. "I don't know." He truly didn't. "I can't kill you—for obvious reasons—but that doesn't mean I can't make every second of this unbearable. I could cut off your hands and force you to carry the weight of the heavens on your back alone."
Lucian scoffed, looking at him with open disdain. "Then why aren't you doing it? Is big bad Luke all talk and no action now?"
Luke's lip curled. He sheathed the sword with a sharp click. "No. Because you're pathetic." The words came out cold. "Paying you back wouldn't bring me any real satisfaction. I'm not psychotic like you. Inflicting pain on others doesn't give me pleasure."
He turned and started walking away. "Not to mention… I'm not a child anymore. All of this—this back-and-forth, this need to get even—is simply childish."
"My God, you're pretentious," Lucian groaned, tipping his head back slightly against the strain of the sky. "Do you even hear yourself? Listening to you talk is honestly the most effective torture method you could use on me."
Luke didn't look back. He reached a nearby tree and leaned against the rough bark, arms crossed. "I'm trying to make you see that not everything is a game or a joke. Confidence and pride alone won't keep you safe forever. You need to grow up. And if that makes me sound pretentious…" He scoffed under his breath. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care. I don't even know why I'm bothering with all of this"
"You seriously think that of everyone I know, I'm going to take advice or lessons from you of all people?" Lucian rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they stayed in his head. He didn't even bother looking at Luke anymore, turning his full attention back to Zoe's still form. "Because every decision you've made up to this point has been so smart and insightful, hasn't it?"
Luke was quiet for a moment. When he finally answered, his voice was stripped of its earlier edge. "…You're right. They weren't. And it's because I know that that I'm telling you this."
Lucian's brow furrowed. He glanced over at Luke again, genuine confusion cutting through the sarcasm. "Just what is your deal all of a sudden?" Before, he had always been able to read Luke like an open book. Now it felt like he was staring at a stranger. "You're honestly confusing the fuck out of me."
Luke's expression turned complicated. He scratched at his temple with his thumb, looking almost uncomfortable in his own skin. "Honestly? Even I don't know at this point…"
"Whatever drugs you're on, give me some," Lucian drawled. "I could use the distraction."
Luke fought the urge to snicker and kept his face carefully neutral, settling for another long-suffering roll of his eyes instead. A heavy, awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the faint creak of strain in Lucian's arm as he continued to bear the sky.
Finally Luke spoke again, his voice quieter, heavier. "If it's any consolation… I'm sorry. Hestia was never my target. My real target was that stupid statue of yours and the ward."
Lucian's head snapped toward him, eyes glowering. "You seriously think an apology is all it would take to resolve everything between us?"
"No. Of course not." Luke shook his head, already familiar with exactly how Lucian operated. "I'm apologizing in acknowledgment of my mistakes, not because I'm seeking forgiveness. It would be foolish to even try—you're way too petty for that. Not to mention the Miasma wouldn't have even killed her. She's a goddess. It would have only weakened her. But I digress… even I can admit that Hestia is one of the few genuinely good goddesses."
"Whether it could have killed her or not doesn't matter." Lucian's voice dropped into something low and stern, the playful edge completely gone. "You caused Hestia pain. And that is something I will never forgive you for."
Luke's eyes narrowed. "And like I already told you, I'm not looking for your forgiveness." He glared back just as hard. "She was merely collateral—"
"I'll show you collateral, you son of a bitch." Lucian's snarl was sudden and sharp, his expression darkening with real fury. "You think I give a shit about your excuses? That it somehow makes a difference?"
Luke let out a long, weary sigh and pressed his fingers to his forehead, massaging the growing ache there. "You are honestly impossible to talk to. I've already explained myself. I'm not saying another word on the matter."
"Sorry, but I don't speak dumbass," Lucian shot back, a petty little smirk returning to his blood-streaked face. "There seems to be a language barrier."
Luke clicked his tongue, irritation finally winning out. "Can't you go five minutes without cursing someone or throwing one of your clever little insults around? This is exactly why you're still a kid. No one can ever have a serious conversation with you."
Lucian's expression shifted, the last traces of humor vanishing. When he spoke again, every word was deliberate and cold.
"A serious conversation?" He held Luke's gaze without blinking. "I think of you as a joke, Luke. So forgive me if I can't seem to find it within myself to take you seriously enough for a mature conversation."
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