[ her feet shift, dimly aware of the dust, if only because she is so in tune with cassian beside her right now. ]

[ annabeth frowns, deeply, when he talks of a broken sky, of the singularity, in combination with how utterly resolute his tone. she's gotten very good at picking apart his lies in all these years, and nothing in the way he speaks suggests a lie. he believes it. ]

[ she has a lot to lose, if none of this is real. she feels so attached to this life, to the power and her presence in this world she helped shape. she takes a few steps away from him, trying to ignore the cold that flashes through her. her croissant is also forgotten. ]

It is real. [ perhaps, when all is said and done, cassian will understand why it's so hard for her to let go of this - but in the meantime she falls so readily into the denial. ]

How could magic make up centuries? How could - [ she's struck with the notion that if this is fake, where does that leave her with the people here? with cassian? that can't be fake. she refuses. annabeth shakes her head at him. ] Okay, enough of this. Whatever you're trying to do here isn't funny anymore.