Disclaimer:
The PJO universe doesn't belong to me. The plot was loosely inspired by IdeasCornicopia's story, Nico di Angelo and the Bane of the Gods. The story, the way it's written, most of the incidents and some other aspects are the ones that are my own. There may be a few OCs sprinkled in later, but who knows?
Dedicated to:
Hey Aquila! This is dedicated to you, for your birthday! Hope you enjoy it!
Summary:
This is your average time travel fix-it AU, except for the part where Nico is, well, Nico, and derails the whole timeline by accident. With old enemies, new allies and everything in between, it would take no less than a miracle to keep things from flying off the rails.
Edit: (7/31/2018)The preview of the next chapter's up!
Book One:
First Arc: The Uncharted Depths
Chapter 1: Nico's in Tartarus... again
On second thoughts, Tartarus wasn't as bad as it seemed.
Sure, everything conspired to kill you. But if one puts it into perspective, it was really just a condensed version of the life of an average demigod.
In any case, it was practically a garden of roses compared to the surface.
After all, none of his friends were here.
And what wasn't there couldn't be stolen.
His musings were rather rudely interrupted as one of the many monster blisters burst. A newly-formed monster pounced on him with a gleeful squeal.
Empousa, 350 attack points, thought Nico absent-mindedly.
He cut it down without much effort.
Even after so long, his subconscious tendency to recall the Mythomagic name and points of each god/monster he faced stayed with him.
It was irritating, yet somehow soothing in its familiarity.
Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been able to play for way too long.
But that was understandable. There were other things that held higher spots on his priority list.
Things that required an unfortunate soul to go though the uncharted depths of Tartarus with a toothcomb.
Huh.
Maybe someone would write a book with a title like that.
"The Uncharted Depths."
Who knows, maybe someone already had.
But he was getting off track.
Since he was the aforementioned unfortunate soul… well.
Here he was.
You might want to know why- many people had asked him if he had to do this. Anyone sane would've stopped ages ago.
His answer was usually a polite request to keep all unwanted and unnecessary noses out of his business.
But.
If he was being honest with himself…
He could've given up.
He probably should've given up.
Heck, he would've given up in any case but this.
But… his words still rung in his ears-
The last words of his dearest friend…
'The next time we'll meet, it'll be in the Underworld. I'll be waiting for you. So promise me, Nico. Promise me that you will either kill Gaia, or die trying.'
And he had promised, how could he not have?
With trembling hands and trembling voice, he had uttered seven words which sealed his fate.
I- I promise, Jason. I promise for you.
And Jason had smiled.
He had smiled just before his body went limp and Nico had cried harder for it.
He was so lost in reminiscence that he almost didn't notice that he was nearing the point where he'd stopped the last time.
Time to get back to work.
He stretched his arm out ahead of him and started walking.
Monster.
Monster.
Nothing.
Monster.
Monster.
Nothing.
Monster.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Not-
Wait. That can't be right.
Nico peered at the curiously uninhabited area with a frown.
When he was sure he couldn't sense anything, he turned his head to one side and peered at it with the corner of his eyes.
Magic was always at its weakest along the edges.
A golden glint caught at his peripheral vision.
Gotcha.
The magical glamour fell away piece by piece until a golden casket stood mounted and chained onto a sleek platform.
The Sarcophagus of Kronos.
Or, at least, that's what he thought it was.
Who could be sure about anything in this Hellish place?
But as soon as his eyes were caught onto the golden glow of the Sarcophagus, all his inhibitions fell away.
That should've been his first clue that not all was as it should be.
Several scenes of the life of Kronos were beautifully carved onto the top of the casket - from his birth, to the fall of the Sky, to the fall of Kronos himself.
'This is definitely the Tomb of Kronos.'
He vaguely registered the thought before it shifted into oblivion.
The uncanny certainty that came along with this thought contradicted his previously stated sentiment.
This should have been his second warning.
As he drifted ever closer to the Golden Tomb, he noticed that the surface of the Tomb wasn't solid.
It shifted. Constantly.
He watched enthralled, as pictures began to form.
It was breath-taking.
It was also the third nail in the coffin.
But by then he was far too gone to care.
Before his very eyes, intricate pictures moved across the sides of the Sarcophagus, depicting various instances over various frames of time.
Nico watched, entranced, as scenes of contrasting themes flooded his vision-
Of creation and destruction, war and peace, joy and sorrow, poverty and prosperity, hate and love-
Of piteous life and glorious death, and of course, the vice versa.
It was millions of stories from millions of perspectives, and each clearer than the other.
It was everything and nothing at once, and his brain scrambled to focus on at least one thing at a time.
It was beautiful, it was overwhelming, and Nico felt like he was losing his mind.
A gypsy girl, a sleeping star, an oracle who wasn't Delphi's.
The pictures moved faster, and faster, and faster still- until all Nico could do was to watch as his sanity being eroded away in an overwhelming flood.
A dreary night, a peaceful rally, and-
Wait- something's not right.
Nico caught onto that one thought as if it was a life line.
He needed- needed to… He had something to be done.
The hazy mist that had settled in his mind dissolved; leaving him wrong-footed and more than a little frightened.
The dizzying spin settled into a clear pool of gold.
Then, it shifted- slowly, carefully.
His heart skipped a painful beat when it morphed into the heart-achingly familiar visages of his fallen friends.
Percy, Jason, Thalia, Hazel… he was the last of the children of the Big Three.
Hm.
His father was the first of the Big Three to fade, and he, as the Son of Hades, was the last one standing.
It was kind of ironic, in a sad way.
With Percy's death, it was as if his tether to the living world was cut, and his last bit of self-preservation was washed away in a flood of grief.
(He would never ever see those green eyes again… ever…)
With Jason's… well, some things were better left unsaid. But it was the end of his self-destructive spiral and the start of another, only this one sent him into Tartarus.
But a promise was a promise, and he would honor it.
(He could still feel the warm hand on his shoulder, soothing the ghostly pains of Cupid's arrow off his shoulder.)
Thalia's was steeped deep in mystery.
No one knew what, why, where, how- just that she had quit the Hunters and had gone rouge. The only reason they knew she died was because Nico felt her life in the Halls of Judgment when she passed through.
(He could still hear her sobs at her brother's funeral- the last time he, or any of them for that matter, had heard her voice)
After Hazel died, he hadn't spent more than five days at a time at the Alliance Camp between his trips through Tartarus.
(He could barely remember what he'd said to her through his sobs as he hugged her as tightly as he could- mere seconds before Thanatos took her soul back to the Underworld.
Her passing was the most peaceful by far- it couldn't even be called 'death'.)
What they had was irreplaceable.
Their kindness.
Their charisma.
Their optimism.
Rare commodities that were rarer still in the face of destruction.
Still, it did little to help them when their time came.
Each of them.
One by one.
Like little tin soldiers, broken by the careless hands of a spoilt brat.
It made his blood boil and his teeth clench.
They were worth more than that.
They were worth more to him.
And he would get even with the person who tore them away from him.
Even if said murderer was the Earth itself.
He would make sure of it.
A deep chuckle startled him out of his reverie.
"Having fun little demigod?"
Preview:
"Well, well, well. It seems that the rumors are true."
"...Playing around, little hellhound?"
...Kronos' gaze was purely calculative.
"...Surely you are not saying-"
"...Do you plan to live like this forever?"
"A linked bond."
...like all contracts, it had loopholes that could be exploited.
"…What."
A/N: I you like this chapter, and that you'll continue reading this story! The next one's a whooper of a chapter, so stay tuned in. If you have any doubts you can hit me up anytime.