Chapter 23 – The Backpack of Betrayal
"Luke," I said, eyes locked on his. "Can we talk? Alone."
Clarisse looked like I'd just announced I was eloping with a hydra.
"What?" she said. "Are you serious? After that speech? After he just confessed he's planning to burn Olympus to the ground and set himself up as some divine knockoff?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, smiling like a smug lion. "I'm happy to talk," he said smoothly. "If your sister can calm her lightning bolts."
Brontes rumbled. "We will watch."
Clarisse bristled. "I don't like this."
I stepped closer. "I'll explain later. I promise. I just… need a minute."
Clarisse stared at me, then Luke, then me again. Her expression could have cracked bronze. "Fine. But if he touches you, I'm skewering him through the heart."
"Appreciated," I muttered.
Luke and I walked off to the side. The shadows here were thick and oily, like the world had forgotten to render this part of Tartarus properly.
He kept a casual pace. "So," he said, hands behind his back, "you're curious."
I didn't answer right away.
Then I said, quietly, "You have a system too, don't you?"
He didn't even blink.
Luke gave a soft chuckle. "You too, then."
I nodded.
And then I moved.
[BERSERKER GAUGE – 100% ACTIVATED]
The chains exploded from my arms like twin lightning bolts, catching Luke completely off guard.
One twist—WRAP.
One lunge—CLOSE GAP.
Then—Ares Slash.
I dropped low, dragged the chains behind me, then pulled upward in an explosive arc. The air screamed. The obsidian ground split behind Luke like a bomb had gone off.
He didn't have time to react.
His eyes widened—just once—before my fist hit his chest and everything stopped.
The force cracked the space between us, a visible shockwave erupting outward like an invisible dome of wrath.
Luke flew backward, hit a jagged rock, bounced, and collapsed in a heap.
I stood still, panting once, twice.
Then exhaled.
I blinked.
"…Wait. That worked?"
I walked over, cautiously.
Luke was out cold.
No illusions. No tricks. Just unconscious.
I scratched my head. "Huh. I really thought he was going to be tougher."
I looked up at the sky—or what passed for sky in Tartarus. "Wasn't he supposed to be, like, a final boss type? That's… disappointing."
I crouched, pulled some duct tape from my belt pouch (because yes, I carry duct tape—do you fight monsters without utility gear?), and wrapped it around Luke's mouth three times.
"Muffled monologuing is still monologuing," I muttered.
Next, I used my chains to tie him up like a burrito. Shoulders, arms, legs—wrap, twist, lock. Chains clicked into place like living steel, humming slightly.
Then, I slung him over my back.
He was about the same weight as a large dog with delusions of grandeur.
"Backpack acquired," I said to no one.
I turned and walked back into the flickering red light where Clarisse and the Kyklopes waited.
Clarisse stared at me.
"...Is that Luke?"
"Yep."
"On your back."
"Yup."
"...Tied up."
"You betcha."
"And you taped his mouth shut."
"Gotta silence the villain dialogue somehow."
She blinked twice. "What."
I grinned. "I'll explain later."
Steropes tilted his head. "Is this a mortal custom?"
Arges muttered, "Strange times."
Clarisse stomped over and got in my face. "You better explain what just happened before I throw you into a pit."
I held up a finger. "Later. Right now, we've got a bigger problem."
Brontes stepped forward, eye burning bright. "Kronos stirs. The prison pulses with his heartbeat. We feel it. His power moves through Tartarus like blood in old veins."
Clarisse looked at the elder Kyklopes. "If you come with us, can we stop him?"
Arges shook his head. "No."
Steropes added, "But we can help you survive the journey."
Brontes rumbled, "To escape, you must reach the Doors of Death, located in the depths of Tartarus."
Clarisse turned to me. "You good with this?"
I adjusted Luke on my back. "I mean, at this point? Why not visit the deepest part of Tartarus?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're such an idiot."
"An idiot with a backpack villain," I said smugly.
"Still an idiot."
Brontes extended a hand.
Flames burst forth, forming a molten doorway in the obsidian wall.
"Come," he said.
We stepped through.