Oh my God, guys. I'm so sorry for the more than a month delay. I just finished typing this chapter up minutes ago. I won't go into what stopped from posting quicker because most of it is my own disorganization and laziness, amongst a hundred other things. It would take forever to list them all. Enjoy the chapter!
Also, thank you to Deadly Huggles for his last review!
And thirteen was also the time of sacrifice
Nico could count all the stupid things he'd done in his life on two hands.
He could count the stupid things he did on purpose on just one.
The son of Hades wasn't a stupid person. He knew that, clear as day. Nico didn't like to boast, but he did have some redeeming qualities, and practicing self-love was something Hazel pestered him about when he first shared his past with her (Taking care, of course, to leave out the Huntresses, Percy, Annabeth, Camp Half-Blood, and the Titan War. Okay, maybe he told Hazel his sister died at the hands of an automaton before they knew their identities. It wasn't lying, not really- Nico hadn't known he was a child of Hades).
So was he really mad enough to make this decision?
The chasm stretched out in front of him- taunting, treacherous, terrifying. It extended indefinitely, its reputation so horrible that no one had willingly entered in millennia. For every second he kept his gaze trained upon it, his backpack- much like his fears –seemed to wrap tighter and tighter around his chest, slowly pushing out the air and inviting death in.
Tartarus.
Nico had done the research. Hours of falling. Monsters everywhere. Creatures that could mess with your mind, drive you to insanity, enemies that wouldn't hesitate to torture you into a slow death.
As acquainted as Nico was with death (No, really, they'd once had tea together, and Thanatos had apologized for all the souls he had to steal- good times), he didn't want anything to do with it. Death to him was that distant great-aunt you saw once every ten years who gave you a Heimlich maneuver disguised as a hug and yelled enthusiastically about how much you'd grown (People got taller every ten years, who knew?) while you awkwardly stood to the side trying to remember if she was Amanda or Betty.
Nico did not like the sound of an aunt like that, and hoped he never would have one.
He looked over the pit again. Nico had hundreds of enemies down there- thousands, maybe rivaled only by Percy. Monsters just didn't like him, what with Nico being one of the few who could bring them back to life yet refusing to do so. Summoning a skeleton army that killed about four hundred of them didn't make things easier.
But it had to be done. For the quest. For the very world he knew- all of it would either survive or perish, and it all depended on whether or not the Doors of Death were closed. He was the only one with the knowledge and power to do it. Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Jason were preparing to set sail on the Argo II. Percy had arrived to Jupiter last night, disoriented and confused, and as long as all went to plan he'd be heading off with Frank and Hazel to rescue Death himself. Even then, nothing would happen until the doors closed. It was Nico's job. It had to be- waiting while the whole world was in jeopardy would never help things.
Nico remembered the prophecy's last line- And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. Maybe it meant Nico would help the demigods, even though so many were his enemies. Or maybe it was the Italian foze and it meant Nico would be engaged to whoever helped him close the doors (far-fetched, but possible). It meant something, and the son of Hades wasn't about to stand by when he could be so much help. He would never stomach that.
So many motives. A whole list of reasons Nico had memorized.
He still couldn't convince himself to jump.
Percy would do it, he reprimanded himself. Annabeth would do it. So would Hazel, Reyna, Jason, Frank, and Piper. Heck, even Leo would give it a try. Annoying as some them were, Nico couldn't deny they were better than him- bolder, braver, more selfless. Each one in turn had given or was giving a sacrifice to help protect a world full of ungrateful and unknowing mortals.
So why couldn't Nico make his own important sacrifice and step up to the task?
He'd been observing the pit for a good ten minutes now. Soon, Hades would wonder what was going on and conduct a search. Underworld searches had never failed so far- Nico couldn't see himself being the first exception. After that, it would happen as surely as the events of a cliché movie: he'd be pulled to his quarters and locked in, Hades would tell no-one and allow his son no outside help, and soon, everyone die because Nico DiAngelo had been too cowardly to put his duty above his feelings. And it wouldn't be the first time, either.
Bianca would do it.
The thought came to him unexpectedly. Nico hadn't even considered his sister's feelings about this. That was a first. Would Bianca want Nico to die alone and scared but a hero? Or save himself and leave the brunt of the pain to someone else like the coward he so wanted to be right now, and die anyways knowing he'd done nothing for the world?
The answer was obvious enough to him. Bianca had sacrificed herself to save her friends on the same quest were she'd died. She'd had the guts to do something that would surely end her life, and she'd been younger than he was right now. And if his sister had been courageous enough to do that, he could be too.
A rare smile played on Nico's lips. He'd finally found the drive that convinced him to do the right thing. He wouldn't let himself forget.
'Bianca, Percy, Annabeth. This is for you guys. Consider it a debt paid for all you've done,' he called out into an unresponsive chasm.
Nico shouldered his backpack and took a deep breath. He stuck out one foot over the trench, trying hard to forget that the bottom didn't seem to exist.
As he took the second step, his fears seemed a little less pressing, his heart a little less heavy. Like fighting an empousa or daimon, nothing happened unless you charged it head on.
Unless you gave it the chance to kill you.
…
Falling.
Screaming.
Gasping.
Hours passing where Nico wasn't sure if it was really the ridiculously deep chasm he'd read about or just an endless fall. He wasn't sure which was worse, either.
After what felt like ten hours of spiraling down Greek Hell (It felt like the past three years of his life, Nico thought twistedly), he finally glimpsed the bottom- a picture so horrifying and grotesque that Nico barely choked down a scream.
Nico had always thought that Tartarus was simply nothing more than a pit for monsters, something like a super-dark version of the camps. He never would have imagined that Tartarus was a- a body. A living being. Able to sense him and destroy him.
The air was humid and tinged with coppery red. It tasted like blood, sweat, and possibly a hint of vomit (Not surprising, considering how many monsters probably has gotten sick being here). The amount of sulfur Nico could feel was making it difficult to inhale, and near-impossible to live on. The ground was something between slimy crimson and rusty bronze, speckled with hills and bumps that appeared to be shifting and moving constantly, almost like glutinous mounds of decaying flesh. The few monsters milling around- because even the worst beasts couldn't possibly handle this- were all silently trekking in the same direction. Nico got a sudden vision of blood cells making up the liquid, flowing towards a heart. And the skin beneath him (it had to be, it didn't look like anything else) seemed to stretch on indefinitely- the whole thing probably larger than the entirety of America.
Nico took all of it in in a matter of minutes, before realizing that if he didn't do something now, he'd end up a part of Tartarus's rotting skin.
There was a microsecond of queasiness. Nico reappeared behind one of the many bumps, shaking as he realized- this was it. He was officially standing in Tartarus, home to so many of the monsters his kind had destroyed. The smell was horrendous (No wonder they all came out so mad thinking demigods were so tasty), the rotten flesh and stale vomit magnified by a thousand. Nico saw black patches every time he took in another gulp of air.
This is insane, he managed to think, crouching and holding onto his backpack for dear life. It felt like if he didn't have something to cling to, he'd just keep on falling forever in this swirl of horror.
He tried to tell himself to relax. Nico had prepared for this. His backpack was stocked with food and medical supplies. Nico had spent so many hours reading from his father's personal library that he'd memorized entire passages and could quote them by heart. He was doing it for Bianca and Percy and Annabeth and the whole world and they'd forever admire him for saving them all.
All he had to do was take the first step from behind the flesh hill.
Then he could follow the monsters, stealthy and quiet, like he'd done so often before. It would be easy, if he gave it a try.
Nico stepped onto the plains of Tartarus.
And screamed.
He should have stayed behind. He should have realized, that, compared to what he'd read and knew, everything was far too easy. He should have stayed hidden, not walked out into this. Should have, should have, should have. Two words that intertwined into a melody of pain and despair, a desperate song of want that seemed to play on repeat. A song that played loud, too loud, and frankly gave him a headache.
No. Not a headache. That would have been merciful. The sight before Nico inspired torture.
What he saw- he could never describe it –was a mosaic of horrors never seen or heard before. And, like a mosaic, it looked distorted and painfully fractured; Nico wasn't sure whether it really looked that or he was going insane.
Nico was unsure, because he could feel madness settling into him, ripping apart conscious thought and instinct, rendering his common sense useless, cutting the world around him into uneven jagged bits that he couldn't understand. His thought process was becoming addled, and even as Nico tried to hold onto who he knew himself to be, he could feel himself becoming delirious. His screams were punctuated by coughs and giggles. A part of him was still sane and still fighting to save him, the other forgetting everything it had ever known about how the world worked.
Nico could hear vague sounds. He could barely make them out, though- would lapsing into insanity ruin his hearing as well as his vision? If he didn't find out what was happening, he was a dead demigod. He couldn't let fear and pain win.
He thought it, screamed it into his mind, maybe even out loud- I want to live!- and Nico broke through. It still hurt like Hades. But it was slightly more bearable.
Now, he could make out a plethora of voices: telkhine barks and dracaenae hissing enveloping him. Nico even thought he heard a hell-hound growling, a horrible reminder of Mrs. O'Leary that only made his head hurt more.
The voices were getting louder and clearer (run, run, they're coming closer), but Nico couldn't escape the monsters any more than he could escape the continuous torture. The residents of Tartarus were coming for him, and they would surely kill him. Nico would here, alone and in pain, with no friend to save him or even cry over his screams. Bianca had left him, Percy probably hated Nico for not helping with his amnesia, and the campers all shunned and avoided him. Nico couldn't blame them: if his own sister couldn't find a good reason to stay by his side, then Nico deserved this, all of it. He prepared himself to be ripped into shreds or dissolved by frothing acid, though maybe it was a good thing. It couldn't possibly hurt any more than going insane with pain did-
Nico waited for his last minutes to come to an end.
They never ended.
Instead, he heard the voice of the pit- Tartarus's voice- boom all around him.
"DO NOT KILL THE UNDERWORLD SPAWN," it said, shaking everything around it. "THE EARTH MOTHER IS YET TO MAKE HIM USEFUL. SPARE HIM NOW, AND YOU WILL SOON FEAST UNTIL YOU TIRE OF FOOD."
Nico caught the glare of starving beasts, before his body could no longer handle the strain. His eyes fluttered shut.
...
Nico woke up inside his head.
Ever since he had learned to infiltrate visions last year, he had made it a practice never to fall to a dreamless sleep. It helped him sift through memories and imaginations. Also, it was nicer to go through the minds of other, less damaged, happier demigods; and bask in a brief joy he wasn't familiar with. Nico never went through private memories, however. He had regrets no other soul knew, and he never would have compromised another person's safe space.
When he opened his eyes to a dark area, dreams and visions clamoring to be examined, it only took seconds to remember it all.
Screams. Pain. Torture. Insanity.
Nico's hands started shaking. He could feel his heartbeat racing to escape his tightening chest. Nico knew enough to realise that he was on the verge of either PTSD or a panic attack (Or were they the same thing?). He remembered monsters taking him and the spirit of Tartarus calling him useful- Nico had no idea what that meant, but if he didn't call for help right away, he'd be marking his own final days.
He groped through various dreams, searching for something helpful. A while later- Nico could never be sure of time passing in his sleep- he stumbled across the consciousness of the dreaming Percy Jackson. Percy's dreams comprised of blank faces dotting a ghost of Camp Half-Blood, snippets of his time with Annabeth (Nico wasn't sure if he found the I only remember Annabeth thing touching, heartbreaking, or revolting because the gods taunted him a girl he couldn't find). Most chilling of all, Nico could sense a conversation with Gaea herself, threats and cackles Percy probably didn't understand. He felt sorry for the son of Poseidon- he had firsthand experience of not knowing who you were. Lying to his former crush had been the hardest thing Nico had done in a long time.
Right now, Percy, Frank and Hazel would be on their quest. If all went according to plan, the Argo II would set sail in a few days. The long awaited Greco-Roman meeting would finally take place. Nico hated to interrupt such an important schedule, but he knew he needed the help. He was about to signal Percy-
Nico woke up for real, gasping. He could see nothing but bronze, everywhere, and his lungs hurt like Hades for some godsforsaken reason. The air was thick and tasted metallic, like needles every time he breathed in. The dull orange-brown that surrounded him was translucent, and once Nico calmed down and looked around, he found out why. He was in a jar, of all things, and two of the ugliest giants he had ever seen were staring at him like he was their new pet goldfish.
"It's woken up!" one exclaimed. It was wearing a very loud pineapple-and-monkey shirt over khakis. Sandals completed the look, and- were those snakes on its toes?
"Yes, Otis, you idiot, I can see!" grumbled the other one. It was wearing an equally horrific combination of clothes. The thick wall between them was the only reason Nico could bear looking at them at all. Now that he looked closer, he could tell Otis was something like… brown? Nico was sure his perception was distorted by the thick bronze glass. Otis's friend was a brighter color- purple- but it didn't help ease his feelings.
They started arguing about shows and stages and entertainment value, but Nico was in no shape- and didn't really care enough- to listen to what they had to say. He was losing consciousness, and fast. Nico didn't know what Otis and his brother –Efal or something- had pumped into this jar, but if he didn't do something about it, it would kill him.
He needed a way to stay alive for at least a few days, He also needed to contact either Percy, Hazel, or Annabeth. It was obvious there was no getting out of this jar, not with those two freaks watching, but staying here wouldn't do Nico's lungs any favors. He could feel the vomit start building up in him.
For the first time, Nico found himself jealous of the Athena kids. He'd give anything for a decent plan right about now.
But Nico DiAngelo was never that dumb to begin with.
The seeds.
The idea was sudden and addicting.
Three months after Nico had first met Hazel, he'd been told in a dream to meet his father at Erebos, and to bring his sister along. When Nico had arrived, Hazel confusedly following him, they'd been met with their father standing next to his wife. Persephone had looked about as great as he'd felt then. Hazel's eyes had widened and, had she been paler, Nico was sure he would have seen a red tint to her cheeks. A wild protective urge came over him when she'd looked down and began shuffling her feet.
Nico didn't remember what exactly had been said, but he recalled all too well the moment his stepmother had begrudgingly handed over two tiny plastic packets full of crimson colored beads. Hades (Or did Hazel see him as Pluto then?) took them and gave them to his son and daughter, explaining that they were in fact magical pomegranate seeds that only they, as the children of the Underworld, could ingest. He'd explained death trances and how and when to take them. Only for the direst of emergencies, Hades had told them. Don't take these lightly.
Back then, Nico had scoffed.
Now, he sent a quick prayer of gratitude to his father and dug through the dusty pockets of his aviator jacket.
He would be rescued. He'd amount to more than a hero who died on his mission. Nico wasn't sure how, but he knew he'd just helped save the world.
He was sure of it.
Next chapter should be out very soon. I've now (FINALLY!) sorted out a schedule that allows me to write for at LEAST 30 minutes a day, which should be fine. The next chapter should also be the very last. I'm both sad and excited to finish this story!
See you all later!