Prologue

His head was bent down. Each breath he took was still burning his lungs from the impact his death had made, but he kept his eyes below him, toward the carpet, to prove his shame. The three judges (King Minos, Hades, and Abraham Lincoln), still hadn't made their decision. A regular trial was, what? Thirty minutes? Forty-Five at most? Never has it been an hour and half. Even Hitler's was an hour and fifteen minutes – Did Luke truly do something worse than a genocide? The thought made him shut his eyes. He couldn't do this.

"Luke Hermes Castellan, son of May Julie Castellan and the god, Hermes." There it was. The way Abraham had echoed his name said it all. Luke looked up slowly, looking into his grey, ancient eyes. Obviously, his request was sent down. He knew that. But why did they have to make this drawn out? Couldn't they just boil him in cheese already?

"Yes," He croaked. It was hard to stay in Abraham's eyes; they were a flashing grey just like Annabeth's. A burn, just as he realized that, collided with him, but he stayed inside Abraham's eyes.

"We, The Council, have decided that your request to try the Isles of Blessed three times is unreasonable for all the sins you have committed," His voice projected, "But we have agreed to send you to Elysium for being a Hero in the end , unless…" Hades hissed angrily at Abraham, causing a disturbance in Abraham's speech.

"What?" Luke asked desperately as their whispers started to largen, "What is the other option?" Abraham looked back up at him slowly.

"Throughout the millenniums of Hades' territory, there have been disturbances. Gone-wrong Hellhounds, souls trying to escape every day, Hell is just starting to be…Well, Hell." Abraham shared a cheeky smile.

"And usually, we have guards to make sure nothing too horrible happens," Abraham informed him, "But after a while, you need a change. So we, The Council, are asking if you would want to take on this job for eternity." Luke hadn't noticed his mouth was still open.

"You want me to…Be a Hero but in the Underworld, you mean? Like, going on quests every day here? All by myself?" He croaked. Hades suddenly flew up from his chair, as if he had been way too patient. Chills ran down him instantly.

"There are fifty dead Demigods, boy. Demigods who have still not had their chance, and usually I'm not the one to give-a-Greek's-soul but this place has turned to crap. It would be wasteful to put you and all your pity friends in Elysium. I'll give you the chance – Do you want to run a camp here, or not?" Hades hissed.

"ME? Run it?" Luke gasped, forgetting about the chills, "I don't know what to say…"

"How about a 'Yes'?" Hades suggested coolly. Luke smiled.

"Thank you," He obeyed, bowing his head, "Yes, yes, I would be honored to help at your hand, Lord Hades."

"We'll have to rerun all the demigods because apparently it's against the law to force them to do something like this," Hades spiffed.

"Alright, that's fine. Thank you so mu-" But before Luke could finish his sentence, the empty court around him had disappeared from his eyes and suddenly he was at a dark rock. He gasped in shock, and held on to the blackened stone, looking down. He could see everything below him – Hade's Palace, The Isles of Bless, Asphodel, the thousands of lines, The River of The Styx, everything…

And next to him, he noticed, were three mega-tents, a campfire with black fire already set, and a week-full of goldfish.

An old tattered side lied beside him.

"Welcome to Camp Asphodel."