Last chapter, about how... You'll see.

I stared at a picture that I had just nailed to a blue wall in my room from my boarding school in New York; A picture of Luke and me. I shook my head, starting to make my bed. The pink cover was nice and warm from the laundry and the flower shaped green pillows were nice and fluffy.

He's gone. He's dead. You had your chance, but you didn't take it. A strange voice said. It was sad, sneaky, and angry.

"Who are you?" I asked.

I am guilt. And Luke is gone.

"No," I murmmered. "He isn't gone."

I was being so silly. When you're dead, you're dead!

Memories flooded back to me. Luke had sacrificed himself, for me. The promise that changed everyone's life and destiny. But he didn't have to. Oh why could I be so stubborn?!

Maybe, if I went with him in San Fransisco... The voice mimicked. I sighed. The maybe assumptions bugged me all the time. It got so annoying. After all, we all had many paths to choose from.

Finishing my bed, I turned toward my desk, which had sketches piled on top of it. The floor, where there was an orange run, also had paper balls all over the place. I groaned. The staff members wouldn't accept such a mess.

Who knew being Official Architect of Olympus could be so hard? I laughed quietly, remembering the moments when my mother announced my new job. I had been so proud. But this was real, not the dream I had been dreaming of since I was seven.

I sat down on a wooden chair and started to organize the sketches into piles.

"Hey," said a voice, way too familiar. I frowned, trying to place that voice.

"Already forgotten about me?"

Argh! Where did I know that voice?!

"It's only been a few months since I died!" I gasped, turning around.

"L-Luke?!" I asked, astounded.

A boy stood there, he had his arm crossed over his chest and his feet was tapping the ground, though it didn't make a single sound. His sandy blond hair was neat and to a side, though I wonder how a ghost did that. His form was made our of mist. His face had a scar running down his left cheek and his eyes had a twinkle in them.

But it was the same Luke.

"You know only one Luke, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah." We both stood silent for a moment, treasuring this rare moment.

Finally, Luke spoke up.

"Annabeth, are you still upset you didn't listen to me?" I looked at him sadly. He looked like his usual self, at least when he hadn't turned evil. The problem was, he was dead.

"I-I'm sorry, Luke. I didn't realize you were telling the truth I–" Tears started to form in my eyes. Luke held his hand up so I could stop.

Guilt is a horrible thing.

"Annabeth don't say that. You saved us all, not Percy. You." A tear rolled down my cheek. "Annabeth don't cry!" Luke cried. I took a shaky breath. It seemed as if he had died yesterday, not months ago.

"I-I can't help Luke." Tears were spilling down at a rapid pace. "Every... Every time I think, y-you could have still been alive. And maybe we could have found another way to kill Kronos. And–"

"Annabeth stop!" Luke yelled. He took a deep breath, as if the wound still hurt. Yet there was no wound. He was dead.

"It was my destiny, and you know it!" I buried my head in my hands, sobbing.


"Annabeth look at me," I obeyed him, gently removing my head from my hands and looked up at him. Luke stared at me calmly. "Annabeth, I'm gone and you know it. I'm trying for three lives. Maybe we'll be together in one." I sighed.

"But Luke you know I love Percy–"

"As brother and sister. I'm sure the gods would grant us that. Like you said, you love me as a brother." I wiped a tear with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

"That would be nice."

Luke laughed. "I know."

"Luke, you're gone," I said, trying to grab his hand, but the mist evaporated when I came close.

Luke shook his head.

"No, Annabeth. My body is gone, but my sacrifice will live on. Do me a favor Annabeth?"

I nodded rapidly, wanting to let the guilt on my shoulders leave.

"Anything!" I cried.

"Make sure I'm remembered. Please," he looked at me pleadingly. "Make sure people know about my legacy. That day in an Fransisco. Make sure, Annabeth."

I felt as if the guilt was slowly lifting off my shoulders. But it wasn't.

"Yes, Luke. I-I promise."

Luke smiled at me, and I saw the real Luke. The Luke who helped me when I was seven.

"Thank you. Remember me, Annabeth." He started to dissolve into a shower of gold sparkles.

"Luke!" I screamed. No. I had lost him twice and had learned my lesson. I wasn't going to let him leave again.

"Goodbye Annabeth..." His voice faded into the air as his body dissolved into gold sparkles, slowly blowing toward me. "I'm counting on you," he whispered faintly as he looked at me one last time. The blue eyes shining with trust. Then he completely dissolved.

I stood, frozen, watching the sparkles blow toward me, as if they were attracted toward me.

"Luke," I whispered, moistening my lips. "Luke."

I looked at my hands, which were red from being pressed to my forehead, hard.

Suddenly, my hands slowly started dissolve into gold sparkles.

"What?!" I asked. My body slowly faded away into gold sparkles as I screamed, "Stop! Stop!"

Annabeth! Noooo! Argh! Guilt screamed in my head. I couldn't breathe, this was it. I was going to die.

Hello, said a musical voice. I am an Innocence.

I sat up, slamming my head into my desk. I groaned and rubbed my forehead.

"Stupid Annabeth," I muttered.

I shook my head, cupping my hands. Nope. There weren't any gold sparkles in my blond hair.

I shook my head, my fuzzy vision returning to normal. I checked to make sure I had a body. Check. I wasn't dead. Check. And I was mortal. Check.

Suddenly I realized my position. I was crouched, in an uncomfortable position under my table. Ow.

I looked around, my room was clean. Well everything except my wooden desk, which was piled with stacks of papers. With difficulty, I crawled out of my desk and stood up. I sat on my chair as I sighed. I started to throw our papers in a metal wired trash can. I filed through some sheets, dumping some in piles. The others down the trash can.

I felt a jagged paper slice through my index finger. I put the stack of papers down and looked at my finger. It was crimson, with blood slowly seeping out.

"Oh Styx," I cursed. Thunder rumbled as I sighed and pulled the wretched paper out of the pile. Let's see if this paper was worth cutting my finger.

It actually was.

I gasped, realizing I knew this piece of paper. The paper had jagged edges around the left side, as if it was ripped from a book, and tear marks blotched all over it.

It was the paper I had ripped out, the day Luke had confronted me in San Fransisco.

I frowned, squinting at the paper. At the bottom, in tiny gold letters, was a sentence.

Remember my legacy. I'm counting on you.

I smiled, despite myself and tucked the paper under my favorite book. I would surely find it there later.

And as I continued to clean my room, I swear I heard Luke say,

"Thank you."

Soooooooo. How do you like it? Is it nice? Crappy? Reviews please!