Hey there! This chapter ended up quite a bit longer than I assumed it would, so please bear with me as I focus on a few other fics I've gotten behind on!
Nico can't even imagine what the public repair expenses for Amity Park must be like.
It's not like they do it with magic, either, Olympian or otherwise; he'd be able to sense the traces of it in the buildings and streets if, say, some charitable child of Hecate or Egyptian magician were secretly helping out. It's good ol' brick, mortar, and elbow grease all the way – and copious amounts of taxpayer dollars, he has to assume. Perhaps that's why they've gone so hard into the Danny Phantom merch.
At any rate, Ellie's doing battle with some kind of octopus mecha, and it's not doing the public infrastructure any favors. From what Nico can tell, the villain is some sort of technopath, possessing and transforming various pieces of machinery into a sort of cohesive, cephalopod-inspired war machine, blasting beams of neon green energy and taking swipes with tentacles made of cables and wiring at Ellie's strange, floating alter ego.
"So, how often does this happen?" –he asks, nonchalant, double-checking the straps on his darkened Celestial Bronze cuirass.
The woman in the suit – Valerie, she mentioned offhandedly – shrugs. "Regular hauntings are an almost daily event. Something big like Technus's little temper tantrum here? Maybe once a month." –she explains. She's checking her own armor's systems, probably trying to make sure the entity attacking the city isn't messing with them anymore. "They don't respect Ellie as much as they grew to respect Danny."
Nico narrows his eyes, unsheathing his Stygian blade. "Well, maybe I can help with that."
Valerie's suit lights up crimson, all manner of high-tech weaponry morphing from the metal and pointing at him – or rather, at his weapon. "Uh...any idea why my suit hates your sword?"
"If it's alive in any way, its edge will drink all of its life force." –he says, deadpan. "I'd advise you not to come anywhere near it."
The armored huntress hums. "...noted." –she mutters, looking him up and down. "What are you, some kind of Fright Knight fanboy?"
"I have no idea who that is." –Nico shrugs. "I'm a demigod – half human, half Greek god. Son of Hades, God of the Dead, Ruler of the Underworld, and Master of all its Riches." –he recites, almost from a script. He'd stop at 'son of Hades', but the gods tend to like it better when you bring up all their titles and accolades – even his eternally grumpy Lord Father.
Valerie blinks. "...sure, why not. I guess Amity Park is weird enough for children of ancient gods, too." –she shakes her head. "I assume you know how to swing that sword of yours?"
"I might." –he says, managing a smirk. "What should I know about this Technus guy?"
Ellie's day could conceivably be going worse.
Sure, Technus is on a tear, the likes of which he hasn't been since he hijacked the world's satellite grid back in Danny's heyday. And yeah, she just went ghost in front of an absolute stranger – no matter how familiar his presence might feel. At the very least, she's confident that the boisterous tech master is a threat she can handle quickly, and on her own, as opposed to the likes of Vortex and Undergrowth.
She might just be able to finish this fight before the Bastards in White show up.
"Ghost Child! Your feeble attempts at challenging my technological superiority fall short of the Phantom's, as usual! Surrender now, and I, Technus! Master of all Complex Machinery! ...shall grant you a swift end!" –the villain taunts, his battlesuit's tentacles writhing with glee.
"Oh, please, you're just glad Danny isn't here to banish you to the Ghost Zone without so much as a Fenton Thermos." –she smirks, throwing a couple tentative ecto-disks at the war machine's hull. As expected, they barely scratch the supernaturally enhanced metal, which swiftly mends itself. "You should be glad I still find your boasting kinda funny. Otherwise, I might've shut you up already."
Technus cackles. "Foolish girl! Your chimeric origins render you insufficient before my heavily upgraded might!" –he claims.
Ellie's mood instantly sours. Of course this idiot would press the clone button. "And just like that, I've suddenly forgotten why I found you entertaining." –she sighs. Her eyes and aura glow brighter, as more of her power flows from her core. Technus seems to sense this, mutely holding up a trio of tentacles in defense. She blasts at the tentacles as she flies around, faster than the large machine can track her. Her ecto-beams burst through the outer layers, leaving behind smoking trenches of molten metal and sparking, broken electronics. Technus' ectoplasm-charged nanites work overtime to make repairs, while the pronged tips of his tentacles shoot searing plasma bolts that, while slow, appear to track her flight path.
She curses, forced on the defense, blasting at the lethal projectiles. They burst easily, but all that heat has to go somewhere, instantly superheating the air around in explosions large and powerful enough to burst windows and partially melt the pavement, concrete, and bricks of the street and buildings in their vicinity. Fortunately, the city has long been upgraded to defend itself; the nearby lampposts light up green, and automatically project ecto-shields in the form of partial domes to create a fairly impenetrable barrier protecting the houses and businesses at either side of the road. It restricts her motion too, of course, but it's a small price to pay to better protect Amity's residents.
She hates admitting it, but she's not as good at it as Danny was. Too hot-headed, too easy to distract from the things that really matter in a fight – like protecting civilians and keeping collateral damage to a minimum, for example. The others keep telling her she's just like Danny was when he first started, but the thing is, he grew out of it. By the end of his too-short career, he'd make what could've otherwise been an apocalyptic event seem like a simple spar between rivals, even friends. Even after all these years, she keeps making the same mistakes – and most of the usual suspects sneer at her for it. Ghosts, for all that they pretend to have some semblance of civilized behavior in the afterlife, are nonetheless a primal sort, and power is still what they respect the most.
Unfortunately for her, power is something she's a little bit short on.
"Coming through!" –Valerie yells, making a beeline towards Technus. Ellie dives out of the way as the Red Huntress's hoverboard deploys a series of missiles, targeting each individual tentacle. A dozen explosions of ectoplasmic flame shred the appendages to molten slag – and though the repair process starts immediately, Ellie can tell that the ghostly inventor is slowing down.
And then the kid comes in, and Ellie fears for her life.
Even with his strange armor and that unnerving sword of his, Nico looks somewhat unassuming; he's deathly pale, seeming almost malnourished. The worryingly severe bruising under his eyes tells her that he barely sleeps, and that when he does, it's fitful and hardly replenishing. If this were anyone else, she'd immediately go and see about procuring a hot meal and maybe some mild sedatives for him.
But Nico di Angelo must be someone special. His presence feels like...well, like when Ember dared her to approach the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep – like a blazing, all-consuming flame barely held back from eradicating everything and everyone around him. It's a sobering thought, thinking of this gangly, surly-looking teenager as someone on the level of Pariah Dark – or perhaps, even beyond the deposed Ghost King's might.
At any rate, Nico saunters forward with no fear to be found on his face. The single-edged blade he easily brandishes is as dark as midnight on a new moon, giving off a faint purple glow and wine-colored glints as it catches the ectoplasm-warped sunlight. The shadows bend, then, presumably to his will – they thicken and darken, becoming corporeal, black claws inexorably encircling Technus' robotic frame. The ghost squeaks in fear, commanding his damaged tentacles to spear through the fearsome teenager, but between her and Valerie, they manage to keep him safe. Once the robot is within his grip, he commands the shadows to bring the armature crashing down, crushing it against the pavement.
Technus struggles, but he's trapped. "W-what is this!?" –he demands. "Who dares restrain the technological might of Technus! Master of All Contraptions, Great and Small!?"
Nico lifts his chin. "I am Nico di Angelo – Prince of the Underworld, and King of all Ghosts." –he declares, the whites of his eyes glowing like a blacklight. Ellie's spine tingles with fear and awe at his display of power. "Nicolai Technus, your soul has far exceeded its allotted time on Earth. You have evaded Death's grasp, somehow, and used your borrowed time to terrify and hurt. Pray to whatever gods you believe in that the Fields of Asphodel will take you – because the Erinyes will not have mercy on your soul."
He brings his sword down, and stabs it into the pavement, a fissure opening ahead of Technus' faceplate. "In the name of Hades, I release you from this form!" –he intones, placing his hands on the sword's pommel. A crack of thunder can be heard in the distance, as well as an ominous rumbling, deep beneath the earth.
"No, no, no!" –Technus squeals. The green glow on his electronics fades, and the makeshift warsuit falls apart into its myriad components – regular technology that Technus' powers shape-shifted into his robotic armor. The ghost himself is revealed at last; he tries to fly away from the breach, but he's being sucked in. He turns invisible, intangible, and even blasts electricity at Nico, but the self-styled Ghost King simply blasts dark energy from his palms back at him, cancelling out the attack.
Desperate, Technus turns to her. "Ghost Child, stop this madness! I yield, I yield!" –he pleads. "Take me back to the Ghost Zone, I'll never return!"
Ellie purses her lips. As horrible as this is, Nico didn't exactly lie – Technus isn't one of the ghosts who've ceased their hostilities, or even toned them down. He remains as obsessed with conquering the world and having his genius forcibly recognized as he was when Danny was fourteen.
At any rate, the time for mercy runs out.
It's like Technus splits in half – one half is pure, highly concentrated ectoplasm, and the other appears as Technus does when intangible. The ectoplasm half holds for a second, before gravity takes hold and it becomes a puddle amidst the battle's debris, while the intangible half morphs into what Technus must've looked like in life – an older gentleman in a lab coat, with wild, wispy gray hair and tiny sunglasses. The ghost only manages a confused glance before disintegrating into smoke and going down the fissure, which neatly closes after him.
Technus is no more.
The authorities arrive – police, fire crews, paramedics, and an armored van that can only belong to the Guys in White – so Ellie and Valerie high-tail it out of there. They tell Nico to meet them at a certain address, which he chooses to walk towards. For all he knows, taking another bus will result in another banished soul.
He sighs, thinking of how terrified both of the girls looked. He supposes he can see the reason – letting his power flare like that is like bringing a little piece of the Underworld to the surface, with all that it conveys. The human afterlife isn't so bad, even if you end up in Asphodel, but most people are at least somewhat afraid of death, and when he unleashes his power like that, the difference (at least to mortals) is negligible.
He's like a sneak peek at Hades, both the realm and its ruler.
For the umpteenth time, Nico wonders why the Olympians chose him of all demigods to lead this...PR initiative of theirs. He's glad they didn't choose Percy, even though he would've been the logical choice – he's the most powerful, good-looking, and easiest to like demigod of their generation, and people might even recognize him from the nationwide manhunt he was subject to, back when Zeus' Master Bolt was stolen – but he deserves his rest, and so do all the others. Directionless as he has been ever since Gaia was defeated, he couldn't exactly turn down the job, but...he's the opposite of a poster boy. They couldn't have found a less enticing demigod if they'd tried.
Soon enough, he finds himself at a fairly nondescript apartment building. He gets buzzed in, and told to head to the uppermost floor. The rickety old wrought iron elevator is, of course, out of service, so he heads up six flights of stairs and ends up at the final apartment on that level.
Ellie opens the door before he even gets a chance to knock. She looks him up and down, pursing her lips, and wordlessly ushers him in.
Valerie's inside what he assumes is their shared apartment, considering the amount of old takeout boxes and presumable anti-ghost technology getting worked on most every surface. Still, it's cozy enough, if a little cramped – he's certainly known worst places to live, especially those first few months spent mastering his shadow travel.
"So, like...what the fuck was that?" –Ellie asks, looking morosely at him immediately after she closes the door.
Nico immediately crosses his arms. "I can only explain what I understand." –he warns. "I sensed a human soul underneath that strange, supernatural veneer, and I pulled it out. He was a century or so past his expiration date, so I had him sent to the Underworld for judgement, like any other. Everything else that happened, like that business with the green goo? I honestly have no idea."
"The green goo is a substance called 'ectoplasm'." –Valerie supplies. "What a ghost's physical form is made of, and what powers our weapons and other such ghost-hunting devices. It's the only thing that can reliably hurt a ghost."
"How can you just...skip past everything else he just said?" –Ellie asks Valerie, baffled.
"Nico told me he's the demigod son of Hades already." –Valerie shrugs. "From everything we just saw, that definitely checks out."
Ellie blinks. "Hades as in the Greek god? Like, Age of Mythology Hades?"
Nico snorts. "I don't think he'd appreciate the comparison." –he says. He hasn't played that game himself, but Annabeth's a huge fan. He's more of a tabletop game sort of person. "But yes, my father is the ancient Greek god most people probably picture blue-skinned, flame-haired, and wise-cracking. He loathes the Disney version more than any other, I think."
"And your mom?" –Valerie asks, intrigued.
"Deceased." –is all he says. Maria di Angelo is a sore subject for everyone in his family – for Nico, specifically, because he can't remember her at all, beyond the tiny glimpse he saw of them as a family, right before Zeus killed her. The Lotus Hotel was almost as dangerous as the waters of the Lethe. "But she was human. Hence the 'demi' part of demigod."
Ellie shakes her head in disbelief. "Are there others like you?"
"Hundreds." –he nods. "Probably tens of thousands, if legacies – the descendants of demigods who survive to adulthood – are counted. The gods are rather prolific. In fairness, demigod children are the easiest way for them to influence the mortal world, these days. Since they haven't been actively worshipped since Classical Greece and Rome fell, they can't openly defy the ancient magical laws that bind them as easily as they could, back in their heyday."
"...so they bang humans and manipulate their kids, instead." –Valerie surmises. "Classy."
Nico winces. "It's not that cynical – most of the time, at least. There are a great many threats to the mortal realm that no law enforcement or military force could face – ancient monsters that roam the world to this day, resentful gods and Titans that would like nothing more than to see the Olympians' reign overthrown, other pantheons that don't care for humanity as much as our parents do..." –he trails off. "Yes, the gods can be fickle and cruel, at times. For all their power, they're just as fallible as any mortal. But they exist at mankind's leisure, in a way; they may not be worshipped much, anymore, but if humanity were suddenly wiped out, there would be no one left to remember their names. They would fade away into the elements and concepts they embody, no matter how immortal."
"So they get to exist because people remember their myths?" –Ellie asks.
The demigod shrugs. "It's more complicated than I made it out to be, but that's the gist of it, yes." –he says. "It's something of a...symbiotic relationship. The gods get to exist and interact with the world as individuals, reining in the elements and concepts under their respective domains. We, in turn, get to exist without worrying about a hydra messing with the morning commute, or the souls of the dead aimlessly wandering the mortal realm. Though clearly, Thanatos seems to be missing something, here."
Ellie shakes her head. "I have so many questions." –she admits. "What about the other gods? The ones that aren't Greek? You mentioned the Roman gods, too, but aren't they just the same with different names? How does a Greek Underworld even jive with our afterlife in the Ghost Zone?"
"It's a case by case basis with the other pantheons; the Greek and Roman gods are the same beings but wholly distinct individuals, kinda like that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit thing the Catholics believe in; and I really don't know." –he lists off. "I don't understand how the creatures you call ghosts even exist to begin with. An actual ghost – the wandering soul of a deceased human being – is the entity I pulled out of that ridiculous cartoon character you were fighting. They have no power at all in the mortal realm – can't even interact with it, let alone shoot lasers from their hands."
Valerie crosses her arms. "Look, I might not be Maddie Fenton, but I have studied ghosts." –she says. "I think I might have a good theory for how our concepts of ghosts can coexist."
"Do tell." –Nico drawls.
"Alright, so...what happens when we die, according to you?" –she asks.
Nico sighs. It feels like he's eleven years old again, reciting the day's teachings on his princely duties for Queen Persephone. "When the Fates decide you've run the length of your life thread, your soul will separate from your mortal body. Depending on your cause of death, it will then be taken by Hermes (rarely, as he's a busy god), or more likely by Thanatos, God of Peaceful Death, or one of the Keres – Goddesses of Violent Death. Whoever it is, they'll lead you to the entrance of the Underworld, where you'll be asked for payment by Charon, who'll ferry you across the River Styx and into the Underworld proper. Your soul will then be judged by a panel of divinely appointed judges, who'll refer you to one of three final, eternal destinations: the Pits of Tartarus, the Asphodel Meadows, or Elysium, from worst to best."
"Really? Even if you're religious?" –Valerie wonders.
Nico purses his lips. "There's…jurisdictions, I guess you'd call them. If you're a particularly pious Muslim, for example, your soul is bound to end up in the afterlife you were promised. But the truth is, there's many, many people who don't qualify for the afterlives they grew up with. They may have inherited a belief system they merely follow out of custom, or fallen off their path somewhere along their lives. The Underworld takes in most of these souls, and gives them the closest approximation of the afterlife they might expect – though you'd be surprised at how many are fine with the Underworld as it is."
"And if you're an atheist?" –Ellie raises an eyebrow.
"You're given the choice to drink water from the Lethe." –he says, carefully. "Human souls are functionally eternal, so you can't just…vanish into the void when you die, if that's what you want. The next best thing is erasing your memories and personality, which functionally fulfills that purpose. The soul will continue to exist, eternally wandering the Underworld, but the individual will be no more."
"But there are souls that don't end up in any of the…afterlives, I assume?" –Valerie surmises. "You mentioned Thanatos was missing something, here in Amity Park."
Nico crosses his arms. "It was more of an assumption, but I suppose it can happen. Something like a hundred and fifty thousand people die every day – even beings unburdened by time and fatigue might miss a couple, here and there." –he admits. Hades will probably berate him for letting mortals in to the failings of the Underworld's bureaucracy, but it's all in the spirit of figuring out this mystery. "Have I given you enough spoilers for you to figure out your theory?" –he asks, sarcastic.
"Listen, I could keep asking questions all day. This is fascinating." –she smirks. "But I think I have enough, yeah."
The Huntress' armor fully retracts, and she sits down on a nearby old sofa. "So, Amity-brand ghost basics." –she begins. "No human has ever seen it happen, but from first-hand accounts of the process, our ghosts form when a human soul is infused with massive amounts of ectoplasm – enough that the merger results in an empowered physical form."
"The green goo." –Nico narrows his eyes. "How does it work? Where does it even come from?"
"Getting there." –Valerie chastises. "Ectoplasm comes from a place we call the Ghost Zone – everything inside it is made of the stuff. It almost functions like a pocket dimension, but as far as we know, the Ghost Zone is infinite. Ectoplasm is a…weird substance; you can touch it, drink it, and even breathe it, no problem. But when it collects and ages, it tends to mutate – to the point where, after a certain threshold, it will become a cohesive being, the way organic compounds developed into single cell organisms. They're pretty simple creatures, whose only desire is to consume more ectoplasm and grow more powerful."
"We call them ectopuses." –Ellie smirks. "Y'know, 'cause they look like an evil octopus."
It's not the weirdest thing he's heard, but Nico thinks it's up there. Valerie continues. "An ectopus has three paths in life; be consumed by another ectopus, consume enough ectoplasm that it can mutate into one of the native lifeforms in the Ghost Zone…or merge with a derelict human soul and form what we call a ghost."
Valerie gives Ellie a pointed look, which she takes as her cue to transform, once more, into her supernatural alter ego. "Y'know, like this!" –she poses.
Nico examines the jumpsuit-clad heroine more closely, now that there isn't a pressing emergency happening. Her irises glow an unnatural neon green, and her long hair, held back in a ponytail, is white like the purest snow. A brilliant glow clings to her skin like a film, maybe half an inch from her body, powerful enough to make the natural light in the apartment seem dim. If he looks closely enough, he can see that the veins under Ellie's pale skin are a dull green – which leads him to assume that it's ectoplasm coursing through her veins, not blood. It's a hell of a look – and he's extremely jealous that she can change into it at a moment's notice. Putting on his armor isn't nearly this fast.
"So, what you're saying is that the wandering souls that the death gods miss, for some reason or another, get hunted down by living globs of ectoplasm so they can fuse with them into something like that Technus guy?" –Nico asks.
Valerie shrugs. "Like you said, it's a little more complicated than that. It can't just be any old soul; they need to have an intense desire to stay alive, some kind of emotional anchor keeping them around." –she narrows her eyes. "Maybe that's why your death gods missed them in the first place."
Nico hums. It's as good an explanation as any, he supposes. It explains why Nicolai split into two distinct halves when he banished his soul – one of pure ectoplasm, another his Shade, sent straight to Charon, his Obol charged to Hades' endless coffers. One thing doesn't make sense, though. "But…you're not dead." –he tells Ellie, almost accusatory. "I would know. My death senses would tingle."
"Well, first of all, creepy." –Ellie crosses her arms. "Second of all, I'm a special case. I'm only half ghost."
As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
Until next time!