Author's Note: The inspiration for this particular fic can be credited to four authors. First to Mission to Marzipan for many of his posts but especially for Instead of Going Under which I highly recommend. Second to ArtemisIsis13 for Nico, Meet Your Papa, the fic that inspired my now permanent headcanon for Nico's future. Third to Muse of Fanfiction for the fic Children of the Underworld. And lastly to, of course, Rick Riordan for creating the world of Percy Jackson in which I spend my time. I should also take this opportunity to say thank you to my beta, Athelia, for being unbelievably patient with me and letting me send at least six drafts per chapter. I never would have finished this without you. I would also like to thank Sky Rat, Enviouswriter1, and Kooliez for their suggestions and assistance. Lastly I would like to thank my friend Alex who put up with my endless headcanon rants, read countless drafts, and even recorded the podfic for me (if you are interested it can be found on my Ao3 page).
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All rights to Rick Riordan and Disney Hyperion.
Nico startled awake. The sound filled the room, it filled his very thoughts, a great blaring siren that made his head spin. The room around him was still dark, shadows hulked in the corners waiting to strike, to drag him away by his ankles to where no one could find him.
"Rachel!" he yelled, sounding far more panicked than he cared to admit.
The sound screeched three more times before falling silent. Nico sighed in relief and shook his head. An alarm clock. That's all it was. Just an alarm clock. Don't be so dramatic, he scolded. He rolled over, glancing at his own clock briefly before burying himself further under his duvet. There was still time for him to get just a little more sleep.
He could faintly hear the familiar slapping of Rachel Dare's bare feet as she crossed from hardwood to tiled floor followed by the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing in the kitchen.
"Rachel!" Nico called again without opening his eyes.
"What?" she yelled back. "Bring me food, please!" He smiled, forgetting in his drowsy delirium that Rachel Dare wouldn't bring him so much as a mouldy slice of cheese.
His door opened without warning and he squirmed as a draft washed over him. He peeked out over his duvet and yelped as what felt like a cushion collided with his head. When he stuck his head out again, he glowered. Rachel stood silhouetted in his doorway, oversize T-shirt hanging off one shoulder and frayed denim shorts just poking out under the shirt's hem. Her hair hung in curled tendrils, framing her face like a lion's mane.
"If you want food, get your scrawny ass out of bed!" She snapped. She had never been much of a morning person.
"Fine," Nico grumbled. He was awake anyway.
He slid out of bed, stretching and yawning before something soft and warm flew at his chest, startling him. Looking down, the sweatshirt he had left on his heater the night before was sitting at his feet.
"Put that on, di Angelo, there's Fruit Loops if you get up." Rolling her eyes, Rachel left, leaving Nico to wriggle into his sweater.
Nico had lived with Rachel for almost six months. After the war he had attempted to stay at camp, but the forced social interaction and physical activity had frustrated him. Will had been the one to stop him from returning to the Underworld and had instead directed him to the clipboard that hung on the wall in Chiron's office. A list of demigods looking for roommates in the city had been compiled, and Will had encouraged – forced – him to put his name down.
Three days later, Rachel had sought him out – apparently Rachel's dad had given her a penthouse for her seventeenth birthday, and while she hated living alone, she hated living with her parents even more. For some reason, she seemed to think that finding the gloomiest kid at camp would make her happier. They had moved in together a week later and hadn't had a problem since – unless you counted intermittent monster attacks as a problem, which neither of them did.
Nico heaved himself out of bed and trudged down the hall. The penthouse was huge, as most penthouses tended to be. The unused bedrooms had been converted into multiple studios for Rachel and there was even a game room where Nico spent countless hours playing Mario Kart. The kitchen at the end of the hall was part of the open concept living room that Rachel had thought up. The whole residence was modern in design with dark flooring and pale grey walls. Floor to ceiling windows lead to a terrace that looked over west Manhattan. Nico didn't really know or care much about home design, so he just appreciated the fact that it had four walls and air conditioning.
Rachel was sitting at the granite kitchen island with her iPad, flipping through her iTunes library for the perfect playlist for a Monday morning when Nico approached. Nico, who was quite fond of pretending that Monday mornings didn't exist, honestly didn't understand why she bothered.
"He lives," she noted as he neared her.
"Good morning to you too."
He glowered at the world around him. How dare it be so bright before his brain woke up – the white tiles reflecting sunlight from the wide windows were particularly offensive.
Rachel's iPad started spewing some peculiar music that Nico couldn't identify as he trudged over to the cupboards. He was very adept at shutting out unwanted noise; it was an invaluable skill when sharing a ship with Leo Valdez.
Nico winced at the pang of guilt when he thought of Leo. If I had just realized… He shook his head; there was no use in dwelling on the past. It was something he had been working on – not holding grudges or wasting time brooding on what he knew he couldn't change. He just had to keep moving forward no matter what kind of shit life threw at him.
"Pass me a bowl," Rachel ordered from behind him.
Nico nodded mutely and retrieved two bowls from the cupboard and a box of cereal from the shelf. Rachel made grabby hands at the box and swiped it from him – not that he protested. He found that in the mornings, it was best to just go along with her.
Apart from Rachel's music, they ate in silence. She finished first as per usual. Nico was of the belief that Fruit Loops were to be savoured, not inhaled. Rachel however, was not.
Rachel pulled her tablet off the table and slipped it into her worn, paint stained backpack. "I'm going to class," she announced. Nico grunted in response, stuffing another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Rolling her eyes as she made to leave, Rachel waved a hand over her shoulder, "I'll see you later, runt."
Nico listened to the sound of Rachel's footsteps as she padded over to the elevator, hearing her plop down on the faux leather ottoman to slip her shoes on before the elevator dinged, signalling its arrival.
There was quiet for a few moments which Nico took as indication that Rachel had left. He savoured the silence. It was a pleasant change to when Rachel was around. She always had music playing from either her iPad or one of those 24/7 music channels on the T.V or wanted to have some kind of in depth discussion about what she had been working on in her philosophy class that day. He didn't really mind spending time with her. She seemed to instinctively know when he needed space and when he was open to conversation. Still, sometimes the complete silence and solitude was welcome. He liked to be able to think.
By the time Nico had finished his cereal, the milk in his bowl had turned a horrible, radioactive pink. He tipped the remnants of his breakfast down the sink and set about tidying the kitchen. Rachel never seemed to put much stock in cleanliness but he liked his things to be neat. It made life much easier in the long run.
Honestly he wasn't sure how Rachel managed to make such a big mess when all she was eating was a bowl of cereal. There were crumbs everywhere and a splatter of milk had pooled near the edge of the island. He retrieved a dish cloth and wiped down the island, thinking on what he would actually do that day.
Generally there wasn't much variety in what Nico did with his time. He wasn't going to school despite being just fifteen - how could he, without so much as a valid birth certificate? He didn't have much of a social life and nor did he particularly want one. There were no wars to fight, no quests to complete, and no sisters to resurrect. He had pretty much run out of ideas as to what to do with his life. The most pressing projects he had to work on was completing Mario Kart on Rachel's game console and reading his way through the sci-fi section of the public library near the apartment complex. He could always settle in New Rome and join the Legion, he supposed. Perhaps the disciplined lifestyle would even be good for him, but it didn't quite strike him as what he really wanted to do with his life.
If he was honest with himself, he missed the adventure that went with being a demigod. Sure, it had sucked at times - most of the time, really - but there was always that sense that he was doing something for the greater good. Something that would have made Bianca proud. That would have made his mother proud. He had been working to help people, to save the world - after he had gotten over his inferiority complex and abandonment issues, anyway.
Nico was trudging his way to the game room, intent on resuming his battle against the fiend that was Rainbow Road when he saw it. A cloud of black swirling mist was gathering itself into existence, in the corner. It drew in tendrils of darkness from the shadows and grew. It grew until it towered over Nico like a mountain. Silently, he cursed himself. Why, oh why, had he left his sword in his room? He took several steps backward, distancing himself from the phenomenon even as he was unwilling to turn his back on it. He hadn't seen something of this nature before and it unnerved him. It didn't give off the same feeling of urgency or danger that accompanied monster attacks but it definitely sent chills down Nico's spine.
The mist spun, condensing into a slimmer shape. Into a humanoid figure. The figure became more defined, shoulders grew sharper, arms and legs more easily distinguishable. Until finally the entirety of the figure was easily recognizable.
"Father?"
Hades emerged from the fog. In his dark grey suit and black tie, he looked ready to attend a budget meeting. His black dress shoes were so finely polished Nico could have sworn he could see his own reflection in them. His black hair hung to his chin and framed his sharp features. As usual, Hades did not look pleased. His face was grim as he stepped into the apartment, fiddling with his gold cufflinks.
"Nico," he greeted, releasing his sleeve and letting his arm drop to his sides. "Shadows, horrible way to travel. If Zeus wasn't throwing a tantrum about the teleportation traffic…" he let the sentence trail off as he looked Nico up and down. Nico was suddenly painfully aware that he was still wearing his navy blue pyjamas. Hades raised an eyebrow in silent question, as if wondering why Nico hadn't immediately dropped to his knees when he appeared.
Nico gulped and looked up at his father apprehensively. Had he done anything to upset the gods recently? No. Was there anything he had been asked to do that he hadn't completed? Not that he remembered. So then why was he here? Why had Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, personally made an effort to visit him?
"There is no need to look quite so grim," Hades huffed. "One would think you aren't even pleased to see me."
"Sorry," said Nico, shaking his head as if it would help him clear his thoughts. "It's early, 'm still waking up I guess. What are you doing here?" And wow that had sounded a lot less rude in his head.
"I came to see you," Hades said simply, as though it should have been obvious.
Biting his tongue to hold back the number of sarcastic remarks lining up in his mind, Nico opted for the diplomatic approach instead. "…Here I am," he said at last. "Anything in particular you wanted?"
There was a long pause. They studied each other in silence for a moment, each sizing the other up, gauging their patience, their temper.
"You've healed well," Hades said finally, choosing to gloss over the awkward pause.
Nico resisted the urge to tear out his hair in frustration. "Look," he ground out through gritted teeth, "I really don't want to make small talk right now, so can we please get to the point? What do you want from me?"
Hades huffed again and, without asking Nico's approval, he strode past his son, to survey the rest of the apartment. Nico followed him reluctantly, unwilling to let a god loose in his friend's house. Hades slowly wandered through the kitchen, appraising his surroundings.
Nico slumped back down onto his stool. "What do you want?" he asked again.
Hades turned away from his inspection of the view outside of the kitchen window to look at him. His eyes flickering over him searchingly before replying. "I want you to return to the Underworld."
Nico raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'd want to do that?"
"There are things we need to discuss."
"What things? Why can't we discuss them here?"
"I have a proposition for you."
"What kind of proposition?"
Hades glared at him. "Enough. You will return to the Underworld with me, end of discussion."
Hades made to seize Nico's wrist but he pulled away. "Don't pull that 'my word is final' crap on me. You can't intimidate me into going with you. Give me an actual reason."
"Do not fight me, Nico," Hades growled.
"I'm not," he argued, "but I'm not going without a reason."
"You are behaving like a child," Hades said dismissively.
Nico clenched his fists; he had learned the ins and outs of Hades' mind games when he had lived in the Underworld and this was just another one of Hades' attempts to diminish and anger him. He met his father's gaze unwaveringly, eyes burning with a new determination.
"I like it here," he said firmly, "and I'm not leaving any time soon."
"We can discuss your return."
"'Discuss' it?" Nico asked in disbelief. "I don't think so."
"Fine," said Hades, looking increasingly annoyed, "if that is what you want."
Before Nico could so much as open his mouth, Hades flicked his wrist and the world turned black. He felt like was falling, tumbling through an abyss of pure nothingness before he landed hard with a thump. The impact sent a jarring ache through his spine that set his teeth on edge.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he whispered, gaping incredulously at the room around him. He was in his old room in Hades' palace. Everything was exactly as he had left it before the war. The bed was neatly made, a black and white picture of Bianca sat on the desk, and a loose deck of Mythomagic cards lay scattered under the bed.
Nico pushed himself angrily to his feet and growled in frustration, throwing himself on the black silk covers of his four-poster bed. "Are you kidding me?" he yelled. "I didn't agree to this!"
"I gave you the choice."
Nico turned his head in the direction of the voice. Hades stood beside the bed, looking stern. He didn't bother to sit up, just cocked his head slightly and glared.
"No you didn't. You were going to bring me here no matter what I said."
Hades didn't argue, which surprised Nico. Instead, he merely shrugged. "You could have come willingly," he said.
Nico narrowed his eyes and sat up. "Now that I'm here," he said cautiously, "what did you want to talk about?"
Hades' entire demeanour changed in an instant. All at once, he changed from being a strict father into a business man. Nico found the change both startling and intriguing all at once.
"Before we start, I have some conditions." Nico raised his eyebrows. "For the next several days, you will remain in the Underworld unless I give you permission to leave."
That set Nico's internal alarm bells off. He would need permission to leave?
"Uh, no," he said, sitting up. "I don't think so. There are some things we have in the mortal world; they're called rights. One of them includes not being held against our will."
"Unfortunately, you are no longer in the mortal world." Nico rolled his eyes and Hades' jaw tightened. "You have been spending far too much time with that Jackson. You are becoming almost as insolent as he has always been."
"For your information," Nico said matter-of-factly, "I've barely seen Percy since the war. Last I heard he was in Camp Jupiter for college. Even if he wasn't, it's not really any of your business anyway."
Hades shot him a dark look. "I would wipe that grin off your face if I were you. Persephone arrived yesterday, she won't be pleased to see you."
"She won't have to see me," said Nico, "I don't plan on staying long, and staying in this room is sounding like a good idea to me."
"I brought you here so you would start attending to your responsibilities," Hades growled. "Until you sort out your priorities, you will remain in the Underworld and do as you are told!"
Nico huffed and stood, slowly slipping off the edge of the bed and straightening. Glaring at his father, he opened his mouth to refuse but stopped at the sight of Hades' narrowed eyes. He could see the golden glow rimming his iris's. Hades was dangerously close to losing control. He was pushing his luck.
"Fine, what do I have to do first?"
"Dinner will be served in one hour," said Hades, turning around as he made to leave the room, "your stepmother and I will see you in the dining hall on time. I trust you remember your way around the palace?" Nico nodded reluctantly. "Good, do not be late."
As soon as Hades had vanished Nico felt the anger return with a vengeance. Really? Hades was so arrogant that he would just wander into Nico's home and uproot his life just for his own gain? Well, that did sound a lot like the Hades he knew but still, it was unfair. He hadn't even given him a real reason as to why he had to return to the Underworld so urgently. What could possibly be so important and yet so secret? Unless, oh gods, unless there was another child of Hades running around. But no, that didn't seem likely. Hades wouldn't bother contacting Nico about that unless he was needed for some kind of rescue mission and in that case he would have just come outright and said it. So what was it?
He resolved to find out at dinner. He would play along for the time being. Show up to the table on time, hold his tongue. He would wait until the opportune moment to press the issue. Until then, he needed to get ready. If he was going to play his part he would do it well. Let Hades think he had his obedient son back. The one who had spied on Camp Jupiter, who had protected Hades' only remaining daughter, and kept the Underworld's secrets even under torture. Then he would find out just what it was he was needed for. And how to escape it.
When Nico entered the dining hall an hour later, he was greeted by Hades' cold stare. He was leaning back in his chair at the head of the table surveying Nico with a steady gaze, as if he was ensuring that he wouldn't make a break for it. Persephone looked him up and down before briefly meeting his eyes with a look of disdain and turning back to changing the flower arrangement with a sniff. Nico's scruffiness probably didn't improve her opinion of him; old grey jeans and a black t-shirt didn't exactly scream formal dinner. It was not unlike what he had worn as a twelve-year-old, new to the palace and if the affect, or lack thereof, on his stepmother's mood was any indication, it still wasn't scoring him any points. He was lucky that he was still as short and scrawny as ever and that there had been some of his old clothes still left in the wardrobe or he would have been attending dinner in his PJs. Hades gave him a curt nod and gestured for him to take the empty seat to his right.
They sat in silence except for the clinking of cutlery for most of the meal. When they had all nearly finished the last course, Nico was beginning to hope that he could just sneak away after the meal and not have to endure another conversation with his father. Unfortunately his luck never had been that good.
"I will be assessing your powers after dinner." The sound of Hades' voice broke Nico's silent mantra of 'sit up straight, sit up straight, sit up straight', startling him into nearly dropping the goblet that he had lifted halfway to his lips. "To ensure that nothing was affected by your part in the war."
Nico paused. "I don't have my sword," he said carefully. Hades looked unconcerned and snapped his fingers once.
"There," he said, "it is waiting for you upstairs." Nico nodded, determined not to say or do anything that would either of the gods a reason to criticize him.
"A 'thank you' wouldn't kill you."
Nico glanced up. Persephone, leaning her cheek on her hand, had her amber eyes trained on him in an accusatory glare. Hades shot him a warning look which, in Nico's opinion, was completely unfair. He wasn't starting anything, Persephone was the one who had spoken to him first.
"Sorry," he muttered. He flicked his eyes to Hades. "Thank you."
That seemed to satisfy her for the moment and Nico returned his attention to his meal. When he had finished what was on his plate, he pushed out his chair making to stand, but Hades placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him back into his seat.
"Not so fast, I still need to speak with you." Persephone smirked at Nico's plain discomfort. "I don't want any tricks during your assessment. I may have you shadow travel; you will travel to exactly where I tell you. You are already aware that you are not to leave the Underworld."
"And if I do leave?" Nico asked defiantly.
"If you do leave," said Hades arching an eyebrow, "you will be defying a direct order." Nico held Hades' gaze steadily, daring him to make a threat, but none came. "You may go."
Nico reported to the training room two hours after dinner. Even without being told, he knew that it was expected. It had been part of his routine when he had lived in the Underworld as a child, and it felt natural to slip back into the practice. He ate in bone crushing, awkward silence, always finished with a scathing comment from a god, and reported to training two hours later. It gave him enough time to digest and cool off from what was almost always a tense and frustrating meal. And besides that, Hades had ordered a test of Nico's strength for after lunch. And who was he, in the grand scheme of things, to refuse a god's wishes in his seat of power?
Normally, he would be greeted by some favoured demigod who had died centuries ago. Who it was always varied. Those spirits who were honoured with serving Hades in their death were always fighting for his favour. Sometimes Nico thought it was only to escape the boredom that would otherwise accompany them in death, it must be frustrating after a life of adventure, even if said adventure was often full of danger and tragedy. Whoever was in Hades' good graces on that particular day would likely be the one tasked with Nico's training that evening. On this night, however, it seemed things had changed.
Hades himself was waiting for him in the centre of the room. He wore no sword or armour, though Nico expected he wouldn't need the latter - he was no match for an elder god.
"Father," Nico greeted cautiously.
"Nico," said Hades, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement. He beckoned Nico closer with a hand. "Come, we have much to do and very little time. I have work to do."
Nico approached slowly, with no small amount of trepidation. "What are we doing exactly? Sparring?"
Hades snorted. "Hardly. Irritating as you can sometimes be, I am not eager for your death."
Nico rolled his eyes, all visible hesitation vanishing in an instant. If it was a battle of wills Hades wanted, that was what he would get. Passive aggressive was Nico's forte. He was all for eye rolls, pointed looks and snide comments and two could play at this game.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," he said with a confidence he didn't feel.
Hades' eyes darted over him. "I'm sure…" He gestured to a nearby practice dummy. "Here. I assume you have not forgotten the basics."
Nico looked at him incredulously. A dummy? That was it? After all Nico had done, the wars he had fought, Hades expected him to prove himself on a dummy? Apparently so, as Hades raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Well? Begin, or do I need to remind you of how things are done in these sessions?"
Nico felt goosebumps rise on the exposed skin of his arms. He remembered his first time in the training room well. Although Hades was not as cruel as the stories and gossip made him seem, he was not a kind god, and had little patience for small boys who did not take kindly to being told what to do. When Nico had taken affront at being called "weak" even after emerging victorious from the Labyrinth, Hades had wasted no time in proving to him just how feeble he truly was when faced with the power of the eldest Olympian. The match had lasted less than thirty seconds, and Nico had borne the bruises for weeks following.
"No, father," Nico said exasperatedly.
"Then begin. I will see thirty repetitions before either of us take our leave. Do not keep me waiting."
"Thirty repetitions of what?" Nico asked. "Why does this even matter?"
"Anything," said Hades, "I want to see what you can do."
"Aren't you going to tell me what you wanted?" Nico asked, "I've done what you asked, now what?"
"Now," Hades growled, "you will do as you are told and I will judge your progress."
"Why can't you just tell me what it is?" Nico demanded. "If it concerns me, why won't you tell me?"
Hades eyes flashed. "Watch your tone, boy. Whether you are my son or not, I am still lord here." Nico clenched his jaw tightly, refusing to back down. "Perhaps," Hades continued, "if you have earned it, I will tell you when we are finished."
As frustrating as Hades was, Nico had to admit that this sudden interest was a welcome change from the icy silence he was used to. Normally Hades was content to ignore him as if he didn't even have a son but this unexpected attention... well, twelve-year-old Nico was jumping for joy. Besides, Hades had agreed to tell him what he wanted to know if he cooperated.
Nico drew his sword in one fluid, practiced motion and sank into a fighting stance facing the dummy. He glanced once at Hades for permission and stepped forward. He slashed at the figure viciously, his sword cutting a wide arc through the air around him. He stabbed and hacked, tearing the dummy to shreds. He threw himself into the motions, leaving no room for error, no chance of failing his father's expectations. Thirty repetitions later, Hades finally allowed him to stop.
"I am pleased with your progress," said Hades, ignoring Nico's glare. "After such a lengthy absence from your training, I was not expecting such a performance."
"I do better when I'm pissed off," Nico said shortly, between heaving breaths. "Are we done here?"
Tutting scornfully, Hades looked down the length of his nose to sneer at his son. "It appears I spoke too soon," he said, rather disdainfully, "but I suppose I should not be surprised. I confess, I am… disappointed. After such a demonstration, I was expecting more from you."
Resisting the urge to permanently send his father into the Underworld he so dearly loved, Nico scowled; apparently Hades still knew exactly how to push his buttons. "Fine," he bit out. "What do you want me to do next?"
Hades smirked, obviously quite pleased with Nico's sudden change. "You have proved yourself in combat," he mused, slowly circling Nico. Like a godsdamned vulture, Nico added in his head. "I must see the strength of your powers first hand."
Not even bothering to disguise his irritation, Nico huffed. "Can't you just sense things like that?" he asked. "Isn't that how you gods find powerful demigods?"
"Not with any degree of accuracy," Hades said haughtily as he looked his son up and down appraisingly. "At least, you had better hope not."
Ignoring Nico's furious glare, he waved a hand, and the earth shook. An army of creaking, skeletal warriors clawed their way out of the dirt. Nico's own hand instinctively went to his side, groping for the hilt of his sword, eyes widening when he felt his fingers close on empty space. Heart leaping to his throat, he whirled around, searching for it desperately, his eyes briefly landing on his father. He did a a double-take. The sword hung calmly from his left hand. Shifting his gaze from the sword to his father's eyes, Nico shot him a glare; dark brown clashing with pitch black as he opened his mouth to demand it back.
"No," Hades said, before Nico could speak, "you will do this unarmed."
"Father-"
"Go on," Hades prompted, "they will not wait forever."
Even as he spoke, the army advanced. Their empty gazes were locked in on Nico with a fierce intensity that he had not experienced since the war. And if he knew his father – which he was pretty sure he did – this was no picnic; they were out for blood. The group thinned themselves, spreading out until they encircled the demigod completely. Hades had vanished, spiriting himself away to spectate from the balcony above the advancing army.
Nico cursed and lifted his arms in front of him, shoving his hands out as though he were attempting to push down a wall. Grinning to himself despite his situation, Nico gave himself a mental pat on the back as a row of stalagmites erupted from the ground, creating a thick barrier around him.
One of the skeletons lunged, fighting to force itself through the opening. Determined not to give his father something else to hold over his head, Nico lashed out without thinking. His fist hit the skeleton with such force that the monster was thrown backwards into its comrades, knocking them down like tenpins in a bowling alley.
"Argh!" he yelled, shaking his hand. Life (or death) lesson: skulls were hard, decaying or not.
He didn't have time to think though, as another wave of skeletal soldiers crowded his defences. Nico dropped to one knee and plunged his fist down to the sanded floor. A great wave rippled through the ground, throwing the undead warriors into the air before gravity took over and they fell back down onto their allies. Still, that didn't seem to be enough as they just stood back up and kept on coming. Hearing the rattle of moving bones, Nico gritted his teeth and spun around to confront the source of the noise.
Behind him, a skeleton had succeeded in forcing its way through a narrow gap between the stalagmites and behind it, more were following. He was completely surrounded. Nico backed up, preparing to unleash another burst of energy but even as he was preparing to do so, he could tell it was too late. With every second he wasted gathering his strength, another enemy forced its way through.
Nico struggled as one of the skeletons seized him from behind, dragging him backwards into the crowd. He was being dragged under, crushed by the sheer number of monsters. He yelled; one loud, drawn out burst of sound that stunned even himself with its intensity.
"GO!" he roared.
It happened in an instant. The stalagmites shot back into the earth, the skeletons vanished where they stood, swallowed up by the stone floor, and the torn earth knit itself back together. And Nico was left on the ground, one knee propping him up as he leaned heavily on his arm.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Nico whipped his head up to see Hades lazily strolling toward him, sword hilt tucked under his arm as he clapped slowly. "Very impressive."
Still panting heavily, Nico pushed himself to his feet. "You did it on purpose," he accused, eyes flashing with anger. "You deliberately made them resist my powers, didn't you?"
Hades shrugged and moved the sword back to his hand. "I pushed you. And you are unharmed, are you not? They barely touched you."
"It wasn't a fair fight."
"And yet, you still came out the victor." He offered Nico his sword. "Rest," he ordered. "You have one hour before your training resumes."
It seemed like days passed before Hades dismissed him, though Nico knew it was only a few hours. The training was brutal. Shadow travel had been next and Hades' barked order of "Faster!" still rang in his ears. Hades had ordered him to travel to wherever he pointed until he had been ready to pass out. Hades had pushed and pushed and pushed him until he was ready to collapse. He was just grateful that Hades had had the foresight to allow him some rest after the debacle with the skeletons. It was only when he had stumbled directly into Hades' chest on landing that his father grudgingly allowed him to leave.
Nico had practically had to drag himself up to the third floor to his room. He was exhausted. The physical strain of training was unfamiliar to him. He had been plunged straight back into his old regime without any thought to the year he had spent in relative inactivity.
Sighing in weary exhaustion, Nico collapsed on the bed. Sinking into the soft pillows, his eyes slid shut within seconds, the ache in his bones fading away into the recesses of his dreams. It never occurred to him that he still didn't know exactly why he had been summoned.
Post Script: I will take this opportunity to apologise for any inconsistencies in writing style between chapters. This fic is being edited, rewritten and uploaded over a period of several months. Thank you for your patience.