A/N: Thanks for everyone who reviewed! On with the story with the person who found Dan point of view. Many people guessed who he is, probably because I showed his name before I posted this chapter. Stupid, stupid me! Well, let's give a warm applause to PJOTKCLucian13, a fellow Filipino of mine, who guessed it first!

And HOORAY, I have a beta reader, lovely1227.

Everyone else will have to find out by using the old fashion way, READING! Enjoy my peoplez!

BE WARNED! When I wrote this chapter, I was very doubtful it'll be good!

I do not own anything you seen, read, or heard in real life!


A Family Almost Crazy As The Gods

What's with today and family matters? It's like left and right all I hear and see are families hanging out, having a party with distant folks, backstabbing relatives, abandoning siblings, and blowing cousins up. You know that kind of stuff.

Other than that, it was a perfectly normal day for me.

I fed the guard dog, did some errands for my dad and reminded him to give a raise to the driver, and put up with my stepmother's insults. Yup, it's a perfectly normal day.

Wait, back up a bit. I'm talking to mortals, right? Well, to make sure some underdeveloped brains reading this report understands what I'm saying, I'll just say it in the simplest way I can.

My definition of "normal" is not associated with your definitions. Not if you are a demigod or, in my case, the only currently-alive son of Hades. Or if you are a Cahill.

This is how the story went that day before I had to save that Cahill kid from dangerous mortals on steroids.

It was another miserable morning for me as I was walking to the main entrance of the Underworld in the Los Angeles area. Everyone but me seemed to have a good time, with all the party and hangover people I kept passing by. I shrugged off the weird stares they all gave.

Let them have their fun, I thought, freaking out a college drunk girl. If they keep this up, they'll lose their lives quicker than they hope.

When I reached the DOA RECORDING STUDIOS, I became a bit more enthusiastic. Every time I visit my father's palace, I try to change his opinion on me, so I do errands for him. Though my Dad and I are in good terms now, he still thinks I'm an insolent, idiotic, and naïve child.

Anyway, I chatted with Charon. Today's subject was about how long for some of the remaining ghosts in the waiting area to go to the Underworld.

"They'll have to wait for—I don't know, forever maybe—before they have a chance to go down the elevator," Charon said, chuckling like it's his own personal joke before adding, "or when Hades gives me the pay raise I rightly deserve. Be sure to remind him about the raise to him, boy."

"Sure. Give me a ride and I'll tell him," I replied, jumping inside the elevator to my father's realm, followed by Charon.

A family of five spirits, the parents and their kids, whose look very singed, like they were burned to death, tried to get inside the elevator. Charon pushed them out in time before any one of them could enter. The father clutched two of his children's arms while the mother's hands were on the youngest child's shoulder. Then, the elevator doors slid to a close.

"Free loaders," he muttered, pushing the down button, "and family of them, too."

I frowned. Just remembering those faces of that family felt like I lost my appetite for Happy Meals. It was painful for me to see a family together. Even though they're dead-by-barbeque, they're together. It reminded me of that I'll never have a complete, loving family. You think having a wealthy god for a father, who doesn't have time to see me at all, and having a flowery goddess for a step-mother, who hates me because of the fact I was born, makes me happy?

No. It doesn't.

I just wish that I could find more information about my family, my mother specifically. They're probably all dead but maybe their kids or their kids' kids, who maybe older than me, could give some info.

I might as well be a dead spirit because the spirits inside the elevator all looked depressed, as usual. Except for the spirit that stood beside me, that is. It was a spirit of a very fierce-looking old lady, like she was ready to take on anything down at the realm of the dead. I could imagine that she maybe a soldier when she still young and alive.

The old lady turned to me and her stern face softened. Without permission, she tried to touch my face but it evaporated as it got close to living skin. She withdrew her hand and apologized to me, maybe figuring out who I am.

"I'm so sorry, my lord," her raspy voice whispered, her head slightly bowing. "You're face it reminded me of my grandson."

I nodded hesitantly, accepting the old woman's apology. She gave me a small yet creepy smile then returned to her unyielding expression. She respected me, I could tell but it was not out of fear. Strange, though maybe not. She did say that I reminded her of her grandson.

I ignored the rest of that topic in my head since I noticed that everything around me started to change shape. The spirits modern clothes turned into grey hooded robes plus the elevator started swaying slightly. I didn't need to look at Charon to know that his expensive suit was replaced by a long black robe. Or the fact that he has no eyes and his skin is transparent you could see his thick skull.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in a wooden barge, and Charon poling us across the River Styx. Bones, dead fish and other weird human stuff that was thrown away in the river were floating by as we advanced on. It was bizarre but the river has gotten more polluted since the year of 2008, as Charon informed me. Now, most of the garbage that's in the River Styx I usually notice are ingredients and metals inside glass containers like cocoa, wormwood, clover, zinc, gold, pearl, and even the dangerous uranium.

That must mean that huge group of people gave up some dream project. Not that I care. I don't have any dreams, except for that long-shot idea I have of me becoming a fighter pilot and flying ace. My uncle won't allow that dream to become a reality. If I try, he'll blast me out of the blue. So, I flushed that vision down the toilet. But I kept the aviator jacket, bringing me a bit of hope that I might fly as a pilot.

"We're almost there, my lord," Charon said, his gauntly smile glowed in the greenish light up ahead. "And the pet is hungry again, judging from his howls."

The bottom of the boat slid under the black sand. The barge stopped so suddenly I jerked forward, landing on the beach head first. Charon laughed at my fall and the ghosts who were coming out of the craft and passing by gave me stares.

I stood up and brushed off the dirt on my clothes. After give a quick death glare to the spirits around me and Charon, I trudged up the well-worn path. Charon cackled for one last time, then ferried the empty barge back across the river while humming a tune which vaguely reminded me of Elvis Presley. I shook my head in exasperation. The help are so weird.

The ghosts parted when I came close to the security checkpoint. Unfortunately, Cerberus appeared out of the gloom and tackled me. The dog was practically licking me to death and I tried not to swallow his sticky saliva. I got a red bouncy from pocket and threw at my right side, directly at the line of EZ DEATH. The ghosts had no fear for Cerberus as he bounded for his small chewy toy, barking happily at the dead people, who just walked right under him.

I escaped the scene, leaving behind some huge pieces of meat for the dog. I ran through the palace gates, passed the garden, and into the throne room of my dad, Hades.

Thankfully, my dad was in a good mood though I wouldn't say the same to my shrewd stepmother, Persephone. She was always in a bad mood when I'm around.

I bowed respectfully to both of the immortal beings. My father regarded this while Persephone silently scowled. Then, Dad gave me a long list of chores. And when I say long, I mean LOOOOONNNNGGGGGGG! And I'm not going to recite it all. It contained too many things and I'm not in the mood.

After I did all of my odd jobs, I went back to Dad's palace. A thought nagged inside my head, about me asking for more information about my mom's family. I waved the idea away. Obviously, Dad won't answer to my questions, not while Persephone is in the room. So I asked instead if I could go to Camp Half-Blood, to catch up with friends. He shook his head then continued to listen to one of his Furies. He turned back to me, obviously giving me another task.

"Nico, before you go, check on the judges. I heard they're taking too long to make a verdict for particular ghost. You have to make sure they make a decision, and fast, or the line will be backed up again. The traffic!"—sighs—"And ensure that Minos doesn't give that poor soul a, um, drastic punishment," Hades instructed. I nodded wryly, not anxious to talk to that ghost.

"As you wish, Father," I replied, bowing in front of him and shooting a defiant stare at my stepmother, who whispered Kiss up when I accepted my chore. After a wave from dad's hand, I appeared in front of the three judges, much to my distaste.

King Minos scowled since I materialized in front of him. "What are you doing here, you little brat?"

I explained rudely to him about the situation. He glowered at me after my justification, which I happily returned with a death glare of my own.

"Well, well. The little mutt is here to defend the old buzzard for your daddy, eh." He spun around and huffed at the rest of the judges, who were Winston Churchill and a woman I didn't recognize, clearly having a disagreement with the decree of the king. Afterward, he turned to the ghost in assessment, the old woman who was beside me during the boat ride.

"You should be punished for the foolish actions in your life," Minos barked at the lady, who still had that same firm look since the strange encounter with her. "Hunting for your silly little clues, putting up foolish completion, endangering your grandchildren, and getting more people killed by that ridiculous hunting game of yours and making the EZ DEATH line backed up again; they're your faults!"

One of the judges, the woman with green eyes, ginger colored hair, and 14th century clothing, was outraged. She slammed both of her fists at the stand in front of her, getting the attention of me, the judges, and the old lady.

"I object! She was only doing those things for the good of reuniting the family, since I, Madeleine, was the one who gave those burdens to all of my descendants, like her. Now, thanks to her vigilance and her grandchildren's toil during the Hunt, the family is starting to bond to fight the followers of that wicked monster, Vesper."

I raised an eyebrow at the woman, Madeleine, wondering about what she's talking about. What family? What burdens of her descendant's? Who's Vesper?

Madeleine gazed meekly at the old lady while Churchill grinned half-heartedly and Minos surly snorting at the obvious family moment. Then Churchill coughed, interrupting the moment.

"So, um, what is our judgment for Grace? Miss Madeleine? Minos?" Winston asked, looking at his distant relative and a stubborn but sly king. King Minos said nothing but the ghost of Madeleine whispered something Churhill and Winston nodded in agreement.

"You shall be rewarded. We will discuss your reward later with the other judges," he said, disappearing with the ghost of Grace after a brief "Toodle loo!"

"Well, I'm out, as you Americans say," Minos said, glaring at me. I rolled my eyes as he vanished in the murk. Madeleine and I were the only ones left in the building.

"Nice family scene you have there," I commented, not sure why I'm starting a conversation. "So it's all love and no hate type of family for you."

Madeleine spoke in tedious tone. "It's quite the opposite, young one. It's more like all hate and no love. Well, there's some love inside the branches. But, then again . . ."

I couldn't help but become curious with the topic. "So, they all hate each other."

She eyed me suspiciously then asked me a question that caught me off guard. "Can I trust you, son of Hades?"

"Um, yes. I think so," I replied, a bit uneasy. She studied me for a moment then nodded. There was a painful look in her eyes.

"Over 500 years, yes, my brothers and sisters' descendants despise one another. They sacrifice their lives, deceive family members, steal clues, and even murder for world domination."

"World domination?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that even possible for mortals?"

"Our father's master serum is the key to world domination. At the beginning, he was supposed to make a cure for the Black Death but instead, he accidently made a serum that could enhance the body, mind, and spirit. It does not put a person who drinks the serum in a godly level like the Olympians but to mortal eyes, might as well be a god. So Father entrusted my older siblings with the ingredients and a part of the formula to complete his work. No one knew that their home would explode in just a few hours after the ingredients were given. My mother and siblings escaped before the bomb started, leaving Father to die in the Ancestral Home. After the explosion, my siblings separated, leaving their mother behind to mourn for her husband. They thought that one of them caused their father's death," she informed darkly. The ghost's fist clenched.

"That's pretty hard to swallow," I muttered, staring at the transparent woman. She did not reply. Maybe she was thinking why one of them would kill their own father. "Um," I said anxiously, "so did one of them kill their father?"

She shook her head and said in a hushed voice, "No, none of them betrayed Father. The murderer was his power-hungry friend, Damien Vesper. He knew about the serum, so he tried to take it. But the rest of my father's work was turned into mere ashes from the fire. He didn't care that a family lost their most important member." I noticed the ghost stiffen then continued.

"No one knew that my mother, who was abandoned by her children, was pregnant with the fifth child of the family. I was the fifth child. My mother and I had no choice but to go into hiding because of the," she hesitated, "family heirloom and my life mission to find my siblings. One day, during my education years, I-I made a mistake and it cost my mother's life. It was Vesper's doing that killed my mother but if I had j-just kept my m-mouth shut . . ."

"Did he get what he deserved here in the Underworld?"

She grinned at me and nodded, "Of course. My father was once a judge to the departed here. When Vesper died and came to my father's midst, he released all his fury on him. He gave Vesper a very terrible punishment. Damien was tortured in many ways by all of the plague victims in his kingdom forever."

"Must have been a lot of victims," I said expressively.

"Many than Father feared," Madeleine said blankly.

"What about your siblings?"

"After my mother's death, I started searching for my siblings, thinking that one of them was willing enough to help me reunite the family." She shook her head in dismay. "I was too naïve back, then. Luke, my brother and the oldest in the family, obviously didn't believe me when I told him I was his sister. His trust on anyone was thin. After that mishap, my mission lived in the shadows, rhetorically speaking. Everyone in the family for the past 500 years feared the Madrigals. No one knew the real purpose of my descendants, until two years ago."

Two years ago? The river got more polluted two years ago. Is this somehow connected?

"You said that your sibling's descendants have been fighting over world domination, right? Elaborate that sentence more," I said.

She nodded. "World domination is not the proper term the Cahill family uses. They fight over The 39 Clues, the proper name for the scattered ingredients of the master serum around the world."

Cahill. The 39 Clues. Something about those words . . . it's so familiar somehow.

"Mama . . ." I mumbled unexpectedly.

I rubbed my silver skull ring in frustration. It sucks forgetting about your own past. Maybe I should consult these feelings to Chiron. Then, I realized something.

"I'm supposed to be at Camp," I cried, face-palming for forgetting. "I'm sorry but I have to go. Thank you for the story." I turned around and started to run, the shadows moving at my will.

"Wait," she said, placing hand on my shoulder which just went through, "do you want information about your mother?"

That struck me like Zeus' lightning bolt. Another lead about my mother?

I faced her and stared right into her dead eyes. "What do you know about my mother? Tell me!"

"One of my descendants, a young boy about your age named Dan Cahill and his older sister, has access to files of all the Cahills born since 1604. If you gain his trust, you can ask him about your mother," she answered, something flickering in her eyes.

"Where can I find him?"

"From what I've heard, he currently lives in Boston, Massachusetts in a large manor out in the country side. If you want to go to him, step through the door here," she gestured to a big, old, dark grey marble mausoleum with a golden inscription on the side of the door saying: In the memory of our beloved founder, Madeleine Cahill, "and you would appear in the graveyard beside the manor."

I ran up to the mausoleum and hesitated to open the door. Maybe this was some kind of trick, my conscience said. I swiveled around and yelled at the spirit. "Can I trust you?"

Madeleine was taken by surprise like I was when she asked me that question. Unlike me, she didn't pause to give me a straight answer. "Yes, you can trust. I swear on the River Styx."

Even though I was in the Underworld, I could still here the thunder rumbling over our heads. It get's annoying once in awhile.

After one glance and nod at Madeleine, I entered the mausoleum. The last thing I heard was her yelling "trust no one" before my body was enveloped by the shadows, which was stupid because she said I can trust her.


The shadows practically spit me out when I got to my destination. I landed on the grass and hit my head on something hard with a heavy thud. And for the second time in my life, I tasted grass. The first was a bit embarrassing than this. I stood up and rubbed my forehead, facing a tombstone. I couldn't make out the dedication on the tombstone because it was old and weathered.

"Ow," I groaned, scanning my surroundings. It was a cold afternoon, I could tell because I was shivering though I'm wearing a jacket. There was a huge mansion far ahead, with a beautiful garden that would've made my step-mother jealous.

"–you okay?" a voice said nearby. I froze, recognizing that voice from the first time I went to camp.

"Drake? Is that you?" I called out, catching the attention of a brown-haired demigod.

"Nico di Angelo, what a pleasant surprise," Drake Albert grinned, crouching over something hidden by a sarcophagus. "The last time I saw you, you were fighting a bunch of monsters with some mortals during the Battle for Olympus. I had high hopes that the next time I see you when I am dead, but alas, it won't happen."

"And the last time I saw you, you were boarding a white cruise ship while having shadow-travel practice run. You joined Kronos' army, didn't you," I said, walking slowly towards him.

"Naturally," he smirked, which got on my nerves. "After you disappeared, I left Hermes Cabin unnoticed. I knew no one cared if I was gone. I had no other friends, except for you."

"Aw, I feel honored," I sarcastically obliged. He laughed at my cynical manner.

"I joined Luke because I craved for power. Didn't I tell you that the first time we met? I thought Kronos would give me power." He chuckled lightly. "It was foolish of me to believe in that old geezer."

"And so you escaped before anything else happened to you," I guessed.

"Correct. After the defeat of the Titan Lord, I joined a," he paused and thought what to say next, "special group, who has the same interests as I do. I was also claimed by Peitho at the time," he said conceitedly.

"Figures," I said, a bit amused he hasn't change for 3 years. He was 16-years old now, I guess. "The Aphrodite girls can't get enough of you and you were very persuasive when you tried to get my Mythomagic cards."

"Too bad you burned them all. Now I'll never get those rare defense attacks for my Nyx," Drake said wearily with a hint of sarcasm in his tone of voice. Mythomagic was the reason why we became friends in the first place. He was obsessed with that game as I was. Who says 13 year olds can't play geeky games? Not that I'm a geek. I gave up that game years ago, didn't I?

"Wait, how do you know I burned my cards?" I asked skeptically, my walking halted to a stop because Drake was bending over a body of boy with a bloody forehead.

"And who's this, Drake?" I asked, pointing at the body. "Did you kill him?"

Drake shrugged and replied, "About the cards, I hear things. I see things. And oh, him." He moved the head to one side. "I found him like this. He's not dead but he's unconscious."

"What's his name?" I questioned, feeling he was important. But I had a feeling I knew who he was before Drake mentioned his name. He's the one I'm looking for.

"His name is—" I started.

"Dan Cahill," he cut in, grabbing Dan's neck sleeve. "And he's coming with me in the name of the Vespers."

I withdrew my Stygian iron sword. "I can't let you do that. I need him."

For a moment, I felt a little guilty and selfish. I'm using trying to use this kid to get info about my mom, but I think it's a whole lot better than what Drake is using him for.

"And the Vespers,"—Drake pointed at himself—"need him, too. Dan-o here has the serum formula memorized inside his big head. I became his friend for a reason, after all. He should choose his friends carefully. He actually believed I was a Lucian." He cackled weirdly. "It's not an entire lie. My father was born from Lucian bloodline, but the Lucians today are weaklings because of those Kabras. So, I abandoned my branch and I went for the next best thing, the Vespers."

I raised an eyebrow. The Lucians, I don't get. But I understood the Vesper part; they must be followers of Damien Vesper, the dude who killed both of Madeleine's parents and separated brothers and sisters. At this point, I was starting to get a migraine from this information overload. I'm a son of Hades, not a son of Athena. I should stop thinking.

"You wouldn't understand this, Nico. This battle is not your fight. It's between the Cahill branches and the Vespers. Why don't you just help me carry him to that truck outside and will call it a day?" Drake suggested, ready to drag the body to a black van.

I shook my head and raised my sword threateningly, giving him my best death glare of the day. "I understand perfectly (lie), thank you. And sadly, I think I'm now involved. So I'll just take him with me instead." I held out my hand for the boy.

Surprisingly, Drake smiled and gave me Dan Cahill. I wanted to think this was some sort of trick but my head started to throb, so I stopped thinking. It was very easy.

"Just stay back and I won't hurt you," I warned Drake, still holding up my blade and slowly backing up to the mausoleum I came in while maintaining the grip on the knock-out dude's arm. He was seriously heavy.

"Oh, I'll gladly stay back on your request," he said cheekily, making a loud finger snap that echoed across the graveyard. I looked at him like he was crazy until I saw red beams shooting out from the forest surrounding the area, pointing at my chest and head. "But my friends won't. If you move a single inch from where you're standing right now, they'll shoot."

I've been in life-and-death situations before, but the killers in my life are mostly monsters. I have no idea how to deal with mortals. So, I did the most reasonable move when I'm in an unfamiliar death situation.

I ran, still holding onto the body.

I heard gun shots fire and two screams. Drake screamed "Shoot him!" while I screamed "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" because a bullet hit my right leg.

I don't know how and don't know why, but the next thing I knew some of the deceased bodies under cemetery rose from the dead and charged into the forest to attack the Vespers, including Drake, for me. The mortals were probably confused with zombies suddenly charging them. The rest of the dead formed a wall around me by linking their arm bones so the bullets won't hit me. Maybe I did this all of this subconsciously when I was shot. But I had no time to watch the dead punch the lights out of Drake. I had to get out of here.

"DAN!" a female voice screamed through the gun shots.

Ignoring the cry for the boy, I limped as fast as I can half-carrying a heavy guy to the mausoleum I came in and I entered through the door, engulfing ourselves by the shadows. We're headed for New York.


A/N: Review and criticize me please!