Author's Note: The Introduction is in Nico's POV, while the remaining of the story will be narrated by the OC. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

Nico's POV:

My footsteps echo in the dark alley, my lungs burn in fatigue. I can hear heavy steps hitting the surface my feet have just left and giant claws dismantling the asphalt on the road. I feel that they are close to me. I bend my knees, jump up, and rotate in mid-air. I bring my sword down in between two glowing, red eyes that I come face-to-face with, and the dark shadows around the crimson orbs burst into golden dust and explode, diffusing into the air in specks of light.

Well, it had been closer to me than I had anticipated.

I spot more monsters emerging from the thinning filter of gold, and let out a weary sigh. Time to rev it up.

As I slowly start to lose altitude from my jump, I concentrate all I have in order to shape the shadows into a portal entrance, and darkness absorbs me from behind. A gust of fierce wind hits me, moves through my hair and makes my aviator jacket flap wildly. I find myself speeding through the unchartered darkness again.

This is my realm, I rule here. I am supposed to feel safe. The shadows give way to me, abide me, respect me -and they ultimately slow my chasers down. Under normal conditions, neither the mutterings of the less accepting things in the dark, or the exhaustion of exerting the will to carry through a shadow travel would have affrighted me.

However, today, I felt chills running up my spine, even though I know the shadows give me a upper hand. 'I've cut through at least ten of them with Stygian Iron already,' I run through in my mind, once again, 'but just how many of them are there?' With countless unidentified hunters chasing after me, the only option is to run, and it was precisely what I was doing.

They have started following me in the Underworld. I have been getting the feeling that something was not going right in the webs of districts that functioned as a tampon zone between the realm of my father and Tartarus, for quite some time. I had came face-to face with many dangerous creatures that should have been left stranded in the very core of Tartarus roaming around dangerously close to the heart of the Underworld, and suspected that it was a sign of the delicate balance of my father's realm being threatened -a worry that he also shared.

Two days ago, as I toured these 'webs' for a clue that might lead me to the source of the problem, was the first time I felt being followed. I'd escaped the Underworld as fast as I could, thinking that these creatures belonged to Tartarus. I had been wrong. They had followed me everywhere -from the shadows to daylight and back into the shadows again. I had hardly got any sleep or eaten anything, and now I was so close to being caught. I thought that these monsters had been long locked up into the sky as a constellation, and would do no harm to men anymore. They were the works of a mastermind like Zeus -no one can accuse him for not being a crafty geezer. With such a master, they could practically wander anywhere they would liked to, and hunt possibly anything that did not have the golden blood of the gods flowing in his veins -even a demigod.

What was worse is that I couldn't manage to get into the Underworld again, which ruined the hopes of seeking my father's assistance. After several failed attempts of trying to get through doors that lead to the Underworld, I'd figure that they was locked for some reason, and feared that something could also be going wrong in my father's frontline.

My mind starts to drift off, now unable to endure the chase. I had almost been exhausted to the point of no return.

I keep rushing through the portal with heady speed, head throbbing with pain. This much demigod stuff was too much even for me. I mumble with slight humor, grinning sourly, 'If those things won't be enough to kill me, than I sure as hell will end up wearing myself to death.'

With this sudden realization, I throw myself out of the portal. Since I hadn't a destination in my mind, timing would not be a problem -the portal would just pitch me off to a location of my luck onto the surface of earth. The darkness dissipates and I emerge from it, my lungs gratefully inhaling the scents of the living world after the air of the dead realm. If I could just give my powers a little rest, then I think I may open a portal again -however, I am already feeling half asleep, and will need weeks of rest to recover myself if I were to survive.

My feet hit the ground, and I urge forward again on a cross street smelling of sea and moss.

I vaguely note that the weather is dark, but dimly-lit street lamps illuminate the streets and the frontages of buildings standing erect the at both side of the road. I pick up my pace and focus every single fiber of my body to hear something that would suggest that my hunters managed out of the portal as well, praying otherwise. Soon, I heard the sound of claws tapping onto the asphalt surface.

A cry of frustration tears itself away from my throat. 'Dannare la mia fortuna!' I shout, probably waking people from their sleep. I scramble, vaguely wondering how the Mist will alter the minds of the mortals when they see this party going down before their eyes.

The desolate road slowly blends in to something which seems like a street bazaar -numerous men are installing tables onto the two sides of the road and are placing fruits and cheese and whatnot over the matte blue plastic that they laid bare unto these sleazy counters.

The layout is linear, but the merchants, a handful of early-risen people and the haphazard baskets of fruit laid onto the ground form a kind of labyrinth, making it harder for me to keep running. As if to prove the thought, I crash into a basket full of tomatoes and eye the owner despondently after the red spheres slowly run down the slope and away. Now adding an angry merchant to the people who would want to see me dead, I scoot. The air is crisp and cool, and the grocery that's on display is sprinkled with morning dew. It's probably just minutes before sunrise.

For the first time that feels like ages, I dare look back. Two Laelaps on rampage, both just tad smaller than Ms. O'Leary, and that is quite damn huge for a dog, are running towards me while driving all the bazaar before them. I do not know what the others are seeing as the Mist alters the Laelaps' appearance so that it is rendered into something that will allow their mortal minds to perceive, but the merchants seem to be leaving their counters and are scurrying away from the Laelaps, shouting. They're just as scared as I. It's complete chaos, and I thank all the graces that I can think of that it's this early and there aren't many people around.

I can hear awful sounds of the counters being smashed under the weights of the dogs, metal scraping the ground and people screaming, and I keep speeding my way down the street hoping that I could draw the Laelaps to somewhere else and away from the civilians. I then hear a metallic screech just at my back, and instinctively throw myself into the ground.

My chest crashes into the asphalt, and then I am smashed by the falling bits of wooden panels, glass and scraped hunks of asphalt. The debris on me is so heavy that I cannot breathe properly. I creep and try to hold on to something to drag myself away from the debris, but I can't find anything to grasp. Raising my head to understand what's going on, I disbelievingly watch a Laelaps take a taxi into its mouth and throw the car ten metres up into the air to crash into a building. The car catches fire a second later and a great explosion shakes the ground.

In complete horror, I sense souls departing to the underworld.

'Damn it!' I holler, shutting my eyes, not having the power to stop or witness the terror I caused. My throat aches in grief. I should have not put people in danger.

The sky bears the first signs of the morning by the clouds -that hue of blue that signifies the night has come to an end.

Things could not get any worse for me. I frantically try to shake the weight on me, hearing the Laelaps sniffing at the wreckage to catch my trail. More sunlight means less shadow, and I need all the shadow I could manage to get my powers on. But even if it was midnight, I doubt I could muster more of this chase. For a brief moment, I think of Percy; he can replenish himself to perfect health if he has a body of water by him. Sick with jealousy that I don't have such an ability, I close my eyes, breathe in, and decide to pray.

At first, I cannot choose whom to pray. As a child of Hades; I am not exactly the most popular demigod around. No one likes me very much, and even Father and I do not necessarily get along. I decide that he is, in any case, my best chance. Although I doubt that he hears me, I force myself to think of something to say, anything to say, and after terrible moments of blank ideas, the prayer itself slips away from my lips without me thinking. 'Father, I truly not know what you wish to have of me, but please put me where I'd best be in this moment.' I say.

I wait for a second, sensing the vibrations that each step of the Laelaps take in my very stomach, afraid of the worse possibility. I wonder if I would be treated like Hazel and spend the eternity on the Fields of Asphodel, or if I would be allowed into the Fields of Elysium as a hero, or if I would see Bianca when she ended her new cycle of life.

But then, shadows begin manifesting around me. Father has heard my prayer. I let out a mad, bone-chilling laugh of relief, just the laugh one would expect from a son of Hades to have. I open my eyes wide as I am pulled from the debris and elevated up in the air, feeling the shadows ready to take me away. Not knowing what to do, I stick my tongue out to two Laelaps eyeing me in horror, making pitiful noises and retreating with their tails between their legs. Feeling like a total badass, I open my eyes wide and seize the first rays of the sun rising over a blue sea.

The last thing my eyes draw into them are the images of few dozens of fishing boats moored comfortably over the flat surface of the sea, swaying lazily to the direction of the wind. I am gazing at a city, each corner shining with another hue of dazzling lights of the rising sun. Two bridges are laid out into the jagged strait that cuts through the land like a knife wound, like a mad god had tore it apart -and I could only assume that had just been the case.

'Konstantinopoulis,' I manage to say, before the shadows take me away.