Hey everyone! First off, thank you so much for being so patient while I took that month-long break. I'm back with the first chapter of ACT V! 🎉 I seriously appreciate you all sticking around.

Now, I gotta be honest—between work and a bunch of other projects, I won't be able to update as frequently as I used to. 😅 But I'm aiming for weekly updates, so you won't have to worry about any long breaks until ACT V is wrapped up.

As a little bonus, chapters will be longer from now on! But, don't expect another 11,000-word beast like ACT V - PART I. I still don't know how that monster happened—absolute madness! 😂 Anyway, I'm so excited to dive into the next part with you all. Let's go! 🙌

Nico sat in the back of the classroom, barely listening as Ms. Carvalho went over verb conjugations for the millionth time. His mind had wandered, as it often did during Portuguese class. It wasn't that he didn't get the language—it was actually pretty easy for him. But, honestly, he didn't need this.

Elysium Prep had insisted that all students needed to learn a second—or rather, a third—language beyond English and Ancient Greek, the latter of which they were all basically wired to understand thanks to their demigod brains. Fine, whatever. Modern Greek made sense. It had a strong connection to their world, and most of them could pick it up without too much effort. But then the faculty and, of course, the overly concerned godly parents started pushing for the students to pick up more languages.

The school brought in professors from all over—demigods who were fluent in practically everything. So, naturally, the school board decided to offer a whole buffet of language courses. Nico had barely glanced at the options when they handed him the form. Why would he? He was already fluent in seven languages. Seven. That was already enough to make any mortal's brain fry.

Italian was his mother tongue. It was the language he'd first heard in his small home in Venice, the sound of his mother's voice calling him in for dinner. Then, of course, there was English, which he'd had to learn when he arrived in America after everything had gone to Tartarus in his life—literally. Ancient Greek was a given, considering his heritage. Modern Greek had been added in for good measure, though it didn't exactly feel modern considering how much time he spent in the Underworld. Latin had been a bonus from his... other side. Thanks, Pluto. Not that Nico was planning on breaking out the dead language for casual conversation, but it came in handy when you had to deal with underworld-y things. Then there was Spanish, which had been mandatory in Italian schools, and French, which he'd picked up during his time in Italy when he'd been trying to avoid… well, everything. And which was later strengthened by Helena and Albert's private lessons.

He really, really didn't need another language.

And yet, here he was, in a Portuguese class. Why? Because Lou Ellen and Damien had dragged him into it. They thought it would be "fun" to learn something new, and as much as Nico pretended to be over it, he didn't want to be the guy who ditched his friends just because he had already mastered half the world's languages. So, when they signed up for Portuguese, he'd shrugged and joined them. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, aside from brooding in the shadows.

But now, sitting there, Nico couldn't help but think about how utterly unnecessary this all was. He could be doing something more useful, like training, or researching how to deal with the next monster that would inevitably show up. Instead, he was stuck in a classroom, pretending he didn't already know how to pronounce half the words that were flashing on the projector.

The language itself wasn't the problem. Portuguese wasn't all that different from Italian or Spanish. The issue was that Nico felt like he was spinning his wheels, going through the motions, like he was constantly waiting for the next catastrophe to drop. Why was he here, learning how to ask for a cup of coffee in Rio, when he should probably be learning how to avoid another prophecy that would lead him into the mouth of some ancient evil?

His mind drifted as Ms. Carvalho's voice continued, cheerful and bright, explaining the differences between "ser" and "estar." Nico absently doodled little skeletons in the margins of his notebook, half-listening to the sound of his friends chatting quietly next to him. He slouched in his seat as the class dragged on. Lou Ellen, who sat next to him, looked way too chipper for someone who had just pulled a prank on their Chemestry teacher the period before. A little smile played on her lips as if she was still thinking about the poor guy's face when his coffee turned into a bouquet of snakes. Damien, meanwhile, was tapping his pen on the textbook, his brow furrowed.

"Então, classe," the teacher, Ms. Carvalho, said with a smile that was far too bright for a Monday, "quem quer ler o próximo parágrafo?"

Nico suppressed a groan. Reading aloud in Portuguese was just shy of torture. He didn't mind the language itself—it was just that there was always someone in the class who tried way too hard to roll their 'r's, and someone else who pronounced every word like it was ancient Sumerian. And let's not even start with accents.

Lou Ellen elbowed him. "Your turn, Death Boy."

He shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider. He sighed dramatically, which earned him an eyeroll from Ms. Carvalho.

"Okay, Nico. Let's hear it."

He cleared his throat, glancing down at the paragraph in front of him. It was about… fruit? No, food in general. At least that was better than last week's disaster where they had to talk about feelings. Nico would rather face a Minotaur than discuss emotions with a classroom full of demigods who had the emotional range of a brick.

"Os brasileiros gostam de churrasco," Nico started, his voice deadpan, as if he were reading the ingredients on a cereal box. "É uma tradição cultural."

Lou Ellen snorted. Damien muttered something about how 'churrasco' sounded like the name of a monster they'd probably fight next week.

As Nico read on, his mind wandered. He glanced at the clock. Still ten minutes left. Just ten more minutes of pretending like he needed this class. He didn't. Seriously, if he had to conjugate another verb, he might just shadow-travel out of here and never come back.

"Great job, Nico," Ms. Carvalho said, though he could tell she was trying not to laugh at how much he sounded like he was reciting a eulogy. "Lou Ellen, your turn."

Lou took a breath like she was about to perform on Broadway, putting way too much drama into it. "O pastel é uma comida de rua muito popular no Brasil." She exaggerated every word like she was auditioning for a soap opera.

Nico glanced sideways at her. "You know this is Portuguese, not Shakespeare, right?"

She winked. "I'm adding flavor."

Damien groaned from behind his notebook. "Pretty sure the pastel already has enough flavor."

"Do you guys ever take anything seriously?" Nico asked, rubbing his temples. He could already feel the headache forming.

"Not when it comes to food," Lou Ellen said. "Or this class. I mean, come on. We're demigods. Is knowing how to ask for a grilled chicken sandwich really gonna help when we're facing down a Hydra?"

Damien looked up, tapping his pencil against the side of his head. "Hey, maybe that's the key. Maybe the Hydra's just really hungry. You say, 'Posso ter um frango grelhado?' and boom, crisis averted."

Nico snorted. "Yeah, because monsters are all about customer service."

Ms. Carvalho gave them a warning glance, her 'I know you're demigods but behave' face. Nico had seen it plenty of times. It wasn't nearly as intimidating as Hades' glare, but still, it was enough to make him sit up straighter.

"Alright, let's stay focused, team," Ms. Carvalho said. "I know this isn't your typical demigod class, but trust me, knowing other languages is useful." She gave them a look like she knew exactly what they were thinking. "Yes, even when fighting monsters. You'd be surprised how many creatures are multilingual."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Monsters speak Portuguese now?"

Ms. Carvalho just smiled. "Some do. You'll thank me later."

Damien muttered something under his breath that sounded like, "Yeah, right," but Nico ignored him. The guy complained about everything, from cafeteria food to the fact that his powers were "too predictable." Nico didn't know how much less predictable Damien wanted his Nemesis powers to be. It was bad enough that any time Damien got too smug about something, karma kicked him in the face—literally.

As the class wound down, Lou Ellen leaned over to Nico again. "You know, you don't have to come to this class. You already speak, like, fifty languages."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but who else is going to keep you two in check?"

Damien looked up from his sketch. "We're perfectly capable of behaving without you."

Nico gave him a flat look. "Last week you almost set the cafeteria on fire with a Greek fireball because you wanted to see what would happen."

Damien shrugged. "I was experimenting."

"You almost blew up half the building."

"And learned valuable lessons about fire safety."

Lou Ellen snickered, then poked Nico's shoulder, as they walked out of class. Nico, Lou Ellen, and Damien trudged through the crowded corridors of Elysium Prep, navigating through the swirl of demigods heading to their next classes. Nico's hands were stuffed in the pockets of his aviator jacket, his expression set in a resting scowl. Beside him, Lou Ellen walked with a little more bounce in her step, grinning like she'd just remembered something funny, probably thinking about some mischief she was planning. Damien, as usual, had his arms crossed, looking like he was already over whatever this conversation was going to be.

"So," Lou Ellen started, glancing between the two of them with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Greek Myth project. We've got, what? A week to present, and we're supposed to pick something interesting."

Damien snorted, kicking a pebble across the hall as they walked. "Yeah, because none of it is interesting already. Totally normal life for us, just casually choosing a story about our relatives, who probably started wars or caused the downfall of a city or two. Just another Tuesday."

Nico let out a low, dry laugh. "Right. History class is basically our family reunion slideshow." He rolled his eyes. "Except instead of awkward wedding photos, it's more like 'Here's Uncle Ares starting a bloodbath because he was bored.'" He gave a half-shrug. "Again."

Lou Ellen poked him in the side. "Hey, at least your dad stays out of most of the myths. Hades doesn't show up to start trouble unless he really means it."

"Yeah, because he's too busy ruling the Underworld," Nico shot back, voice flat. "It's not like he has time for mortal drama. Unlike some Gods."

"True, true," Lou Ellen agreed, looking thoughtful for a second before her face brightened again. "Okay, but seriously, what myth should we go with? We need something that hasn't been done to death, but it also has to be, you know, actually interesting."

Damien sighed. "Why can't we just pick something easy, like Perseus and Medusa? Everyone loves a good head-chopping story."

Nico shot him a look that could only be described as pure Nico: a mixture of deadpan exhaustion and really, dude? energy. "Yeah, except everyone and their Pegasus already knows that one. We'll get a C for lack of creativity. You want to be known as the guy who half-assed a project in a school full of literal demigods? And have you forgotten that her emporium is now a safe haven for demigods?"

Damien opened his mouth to protest but seemed to reconsider. "Fair point. But can we not go with something too obscure? I'd like to avoid getting cursed for accidentally mispronouncing someone's name."

Lou Ellen snapped her fingers. "What about Orpheus and Eurydice? It's tragic, there's a journey to the Underworld, plus, Nico, you'd be able to give us insider info."

Nico stopped walking and gave her a dead-eyed stare, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, let me just ask Charon for all the juicy details next time I hitch a ride. Better yet, I'll give Orpheus a call. I'm sure he's got plenty of time to talk about his tragic love life."

Lou Ellen grinned, clearly unfazed by his sarcasm. "I'm just saying, you'd be the expert. We'd get bonus points."

"Or I could get us all banished from the Underworld for making light of someone's eternal suffering," Nico replied dryly.

Damien chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, I don't feel like ticking off a bunch of ancient souls. Hard pass."

They turned a corner, dodging a group of rowdy Ares kids who were roughhousing by the lockers, one of them clearly about to punch his friend through a wall. Nico ignored them—typical behavior for the children of the war god.

"Well, if not Orpheus," Lou Ellen continued, "then maybe something involving magic? Hecate's involved in a ton of myths, and since I *am* the resident expert in all things magic…" She gave a mock bow, the faintest shimmer of purple sparks flashing between her fingers.

Nico arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Like what? Medea? Because that whole story ends in bloodshed and betrayal. Great role model."

Lou Ellen wiggled her fingers dramatically. "Exactly! Drama! Murder! Dark magic! It's perfect."

Damien made a face. "Right, except everyone already knows Medea as the poster child for 'Don't mess with witches.' Besides, if we do anything remotely related to her, half the class will start thinking you're planning to poison them, Lou."

She shrugged. "Let them. Keeps people on their toes."

Nico was barely paying attention now. His mind was drifting again. He couldn't help but think about how weird it was to pick a myth like it was some kind of storybook when, for them, it was all too real. These weren't just ancient stories—they were their family histories. Twisted, violent, and absolutely insane. There was no detachment, no reading it as a casual observer. They lived in this chaos, day in and day out.

"Hey, shadow boy," Lou Ellen's voice snapped him back to reality. She waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Nico. You got any better ideas, or are you too busy brooding to participate?"

Nico blinked, shaking off his thoughts. "What about something no one really talks about? Like, the Titanomachy?"

Damien groaned. "You mean the war where our grandparents tried to overthrow our parents? Yeah, sounds like a fun time. Why not bring that up at dinner next time we're at camp? I'm sure it'll make for some great conversation."

"Not that part," Nico said, rolling his eyes. "I mean, there's more to it than just the Gods overthrowing the Titans. What about the smaller stories? The lesser-known figures?"

Lou Ellen tilted her head, curious. "Like who?"

Nico thought for a second. "Like Themis. She's always there in the background, playing both sides. Justice and balance, but she's never really mentioned. I mean, without her, the Gods wouldn't have had the Oracle of Delphi. She basically helped shape how the Gods controlled fate, but no one talks about it because she wasn't out there throwing lightning bolts or turning people into spiders."

Damien considered that, tapping his chin. "Okay, I'll admit, that's kind of cool. She's like the puppet master of the whole thing, and no one even realizes it."

Lou Ellen snapped her fingers. "I like it. It's different, and we can talk about how justice and balance played into the war. Plus, it gives us an excuse to bring up Nemesis," she added, throwing Damien a smirk.

He groaned. "Don't remind me. She already watches everything I do like a hawk."

Nico cracked a rare, subtle smile. "You're just paranoid because every time you do something dumb, she makes sure you get what's coming."

"Exactly," Damien muttered. "I don't need more Nemesis in my life. She's already plenty involved."

"Too bad," Lou Ellen said, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "We're doing it. Nico, you'll handle the research on Themis. Damien, you can dig up stuff on Nemesis."

Damien rolled his eyes but didn't argue. "Fine, but if Nemesis decides to teach me a lesson for digging into her personal life, I'm blaming you."

Nico just shook his head as they made their way to the library. He wasn't sure if this was going to get them an A, or if it would end with them angering some ancient Titaness and starting a whole new disaster, but at least it wasn't Medusa or Orpheus again. One more cliché myth, and Nico might've actually started wishing for a prophecy just to shake things up.

At least Themis wasn't known for smiting people. Probably.

The library at Elysium Prep was quieter than usual, though the faint rustling of pages and the soft murmur of a few students lingered in the background. The three of them—Nico, Lou Ellen, and Damien—had commandeered a large round table at the far end of the room, books scattered everywhere. Nico sat hunched over an ancient tome that looked like it had been through a war or two, flipping through pages with the intensity of someone preparing for battle. Lou Ellen was cross-legged in her chair, fingers skimming over a glowing scroll she had summoned with a flick of her hand, while Damien leaned back, looking completely over this whole "research" thing, but still begrudgingly flipping through a stack of notes.

"So, Themis," Lou Ellen said, breaking the silence. "She's all about justice, order, balance... Honestly, I kinda like her vibe. Not nearly as dramatic as most of the other Gods."

"Yeah," Nico muttered, eyes still glued to his book. "Except she played both sides during the Titanomachy. She was the one advising the Olympians, but she didn't really oppose the Titans either. She was all about keeping balance, even when everything was going to chaos. That's why she's important. She's like—" he paused, looking for the right word, "—neutral ground, but way more dangerous."

Damien sat up, raising an eyebrow. "So basically, she was Switzerland? But with more prophecy and less chocolate?"

Nico shot him a dry look. "More like Switzerland with the power to control the fate of entire civilizations. So yeah, a little more intense than chocolate."

Lou Ellen tapped her chin, clearly intrigued. "And she was the one who helped the Gods establish the Oracle of Delphi, right? That's major. I mean, she's literally the reason why the Gods could predict stuff and manipulate fate, but she never gets credit."

Damien flipped through one of the texts, squinting as he skimmed the pages. "I mean, is it even a Greek myth if the powerful woman behind the scenes doesn't get enough credit?"

Nico let out a soft, cynical chuckle. "Yeah, welcome to Olympus. You change the world, you get forgotten in the background while Zeus takes all the glory."

Lou Ellen leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "So, here's what I'm thinking. We build the presentation around that—how Themis was the mastermind behind the Oracle of Delphi, how she represents balance and control, but no one really talks about her. She's the reason mortals and demigods have been obsessed with fate and prophecy for centuries."

Nico nodded, pushing the book in front of him towards her, pointing to an old, faded illustration of Themis standing tall, blindfolded, holding scales in one hand and a sword in the other. "Exactly. She set up the system, kept the gods from messing with fate too much. It's like she was a check on the chaos. Without her, the gods would've probably torn everything apart way earlier."

Damien leaned over the table, pushing aside his pile of discarded notes. "Okay, but how do we tie that into the Oracle of Delphi? Like, sure, she established it, but what's the connection between Themis and the whole prophecy deal? I thought Apollo ran that show?"

Nico rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a headache creeping in. "Apollo took over later, after the Oracle became this massive thing. But Themis was the one who set it up in the first place. She handed it over to Phoebe, who gave to her grandson Apollo as a birthday gift. She basically delegated it."

Damien smirked. "So, she's like the manager who handed the keys to the intern and said, 'Good luck running the universe.' Got it."

"Something like that," Nico muttered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again.

Lou Ellen jotted something down in her notebook with a dramatic flourish. "Okay, so we make that the focal point. Themis isn't just some boring, background goddess. She's the puppet master who controlled fate before Apollo swooped in with his golden lyre and took all the credit."

Damien stretched his arms over his head, looking like he was finally getting into it. "Alright, this could actually work. I can handle the Nemesis angle, tie in how balance and justice aren't just about good and evil, but about keeping order in the universe. Nemesis punishes hubris, right? It's like her job is to enforce Themis's sense of balance."

Nico leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. "Exactly. Nemesis and Themis are two sides of the same coin. One creates balance, the other enforces it. Nemesis steps in when someone tries to tip the scales too far in their favor."

Lou Ellen grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "And then, we can hit them with the Oracle's origin story, drop some cool details about how Themis started it all. Maybe throw in a few fun facts about the weird, trippy rituals that happened at Delphi."

Damien raised an eyebrow. "You mean the whole 'inhale the volcanic fumes and trip out on prophecy' thing?"

"Exactly!" Lou Ellen beamed. "I mean, what's a Greek myth without a little 'possibly fatal prophetic smoke'? Gotta keep it interesting."

Nico smirked. "I'm sure Ms. Newman will love that part."

They were so engrossed in their discussion, tossing ideas back and forth, that none of them noticed how much time had passed. Nico was deep into a passage about the Oracle's early days when a cold, familiar sensation washed over him. He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. A soft, lilting voice broke the silence.

"Nico," Helena's voice echoed gently, though there was a hint of teasing in it. "The lunch period has started. Or, well, it started twenty minutes ago."

Lou Ellen jumped, nearly knocking over her stack of notes. "Gods, Helena! Do you have to always sneak up on us like that?"

Helena, Nico's ghost guardian—a daughter of Aphrodite—floated above the floor, her translucent figure glowing faintly in the dim library light. She crossed her arms, a faint smile on her lips. "Well, you three were so deep in your discussion, I thought it'd be rude to interrupt. But I didn't want you to miss lunch."

Nico blinked, his mind catching up. "Wait. Lunch already?"

Damien groaned, checking the time. "Seriously? We've been in here for over an hour?"

"Yep," Helena said with a cheerful nod, her ethereal form flickering slightly. "But it seems like you've gotten a lot done. I'd say it was time well spent."

Lou Ellen stretched, standing up and collecting her notes. "Guess we really got into it. But hey, at least we've got our topic and our structure down. That's a win."

Nico started gathering the books, stacking them neatly as he sighed. "Yeah, we actually might survive this project. Who knew Themis would end up being this interesting?"

Damien stood, rubbing his stomach dramatically. "Okay, cool, but now I'm starving. If we don't get to the dining hall soon, I'm gonna end up invoking Nemesis to balance out my hunger."

Lou Ellen snickered. "I'm sure she's thrilled that you're using her powers for food cravings."

Damien shrugged, smirking. "Hey, balance is balance. Hunger and satisfaction, it's all part of the cosmic order."

Nico rolled his eyes, shouldering his bag. "I better get going before you decide to wage war against a sandwich."

With one last wave at his friends, Nico hurried toward the pool, his boots making soft, echoing thuds on the tiled floor as he cut through the mostly empty corridors of Elysium Prep. He was late. Again. Not that Percy would care, but still, he hated being the one who kept people waiting. Especially Percy, who had that irritating, easygoing way of being cool about literally everything.

When he finally arrived at the pool, he spotted Percy lounging on the bleachers, towel draped over his shoulders, hair still damp from his swim. He was mid-sip from a blue Gatorade, of course, because Percy couldn't go a day without indulging in his ridiculous obsession with all things blue. Next to him was a bag full of sandwiches and, unsurprisingly, a container of blue chocolate chip cookies.

"Hey," Nico called, slightly out of breath as he jogged up the bleachers. "Sorry, got caught up at the library. Lost track of time."

Percy waved him off with a grin, leaning back against the bleacher behind him. "No worries. It gave me an excuse to swim longer. You know, clear my head, commune with the water spirits, that sort of thing." His tone was playful, but Nico knew Percy actually did find peace in the water, where everything probably felt a little less chaotic.

Nico dropped down onto the bleacher beside him, grabbing a sandwich from the bag. "Yeah, because life is so stressful for you," he said dryly, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite.

Percy smirked. "Hey, it's hard out here for a son of Poseidon. We've got, like, a lot of… waves to deal with." He paused, clearly proud of his terrible joke.

Nico gave him a blank stare. "You're impossible."

Percy grinned wider, his sea-green eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what were you guys researching in the library that had you running late? Another group project?"

Nico nodded, taking another bite before answering. "Yeah. History class. We're doing a presentation on Themis and the Oracle of Delphi. You know, family drama, fate manipulation, the usual."

Percy shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Gods, it's weird, right? Having classes about our own relatives. I spent all of Latin going over Theseus, and it's like, 'Oh cool, let's talk about my half-brother who I've never met and probably won't because, you know, dead.'"

Nico snorted. "Yeah, nothing like learning about your extended family through textbooks and class presentations. You'd think we could just skip the myth part and go straight to the gossip."

Percy laughed, leaning forward as he grabbed a cookie. "Exactly. And it's always awkward when the teachers try to make it relatable. Like, 'Imagine your half-sibling stealing your sword or, I don't know, abandoning you on a deserted island.'" He cringed slightly at the thought. "Weird vibes."

Nico could only imagine. He hadn't thought about it much, but Percy's complicated family tree had to make some of these classes downright uncomfortable. Not that his own family was any less of a disaster. "So, you've got all these half-siblings floating around the myths," Percy said, tossing a cookie into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "What about you? Hades doesn't exactly have a lot of demigod kids in the legends."

Nico glanced sideways at Percy, weighing how much he wanted to explain. "Actually… it's more complicated than you'd think." He took a slow breath, leaning back and looking at the calm surface of the pool. "Papa and Mamma—they have this deal. Every century or so, they bring in a third party."

Percy's eyebrows shot up. "A third party? Like, what, a guest star?"

Nico nodded, lips quirking in a humorless smile. "Something like that. They bring in someone, a mortal or a god. And sometimes… well, Hades ends up getting that third party pregnant. Other times, it's Persephone who does."

Percy blinked, obviously trying to process that. "Wait, wait. So, you're telling me Hades and Persephone have these… arrangements? And they just… share?"

"Pretty much." Nico shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich. "It's not exactly common knowledge. But yeah, there have been a few demigod children of Papa. Famous ones, too. But none of them are known as his kids. They just… disappear into the myths."

Percy leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Okay, who? You can't just drop that bombshell and not tell me who we're talking about."

Nico sighed, rolling his shoulders back. "Fine. But don't freak out."

Percy looked mock-offended. "Me? Freak out? Please, Nico. There's nothing you can say that will freak me out."

"Well, if you are sure," Nico raised an eyebrow. "Some of my most famous halfsiblings are, Dante and Van Gogh."

Percy paused mid-bite, his blue cookie hovering near his mouth as he processed what Nico had just said. The sound of water lapping softly at the pool's edge was the only thing filling the silence between them for a few seconds.

"Wait," Percy said, blinking. "Back up a sec. Did you just say that Dante and Van Gogh were Hades' kids? Like, the Dante? And the Vincent van Gogh?"

Nico nodded, his expression as casual as if he were explaining the weather. "Yeah. Dante Alighieri and Vincent Van Gogh. They were children of Papa. And Jean of Arc and Mother Teresa were Mamma's."

Percy looked like he had just been hit by a tsunami of new information. He set the cookie down and leaned forward, clearly fascinated but also totally confused. "Okay, first off, I'm not even gonna touch the Jean of Arc and Mother Teresa thing right now, because that's gonna make my brain explode. But Dante and Van Gogh? Like, the same Dante who wrote The Divine Comedy? That guy?"

Nico leaned back, crossing his arms. "Yep. Makes sense when you think about it. He literally wrote about the layers of the Underworld, different realms of Heaven, and purgatory. People thought it was just this creative masterpiece, but he wasn't making it up. He saw it all firsthand."

Percy's mouth fell open. "You're telling me Dante wasn't just writing some epic fanfic of the afterlife? He actually went to the Underworld?"

Nico smirked. "Pretty much. His powers were like mine—he could travel through different Underworlds and communicate with souls. That's how he got all those 'details' for his book. He didn't just imagine them. He was living it."

Percy ran a hand through his wet hair, looking like he was trying to reconcile centuries of human history with the fact that Dante Alighieri was a demigod. "That's insane. So, Dante was literally just writing down a travel journal of the Underworld?"

"More or less," Nico said with a shrug. "Though I'm pretty sure Papa wasn't thrilled about it. Dante got a little too... poetic with some of the descriptions. Most nothing in the Inferno is accurate."

Percy let out a low whistle, leaning back against the bleachers. "Man, that's wild. I've got this whole new respect for Dante now. But what about Van Gogh? How does he fit into all this?"

Nico's expression darkened slightly, and Percy noticed the shift. "Van Gogh's story… didn't end so well."

"Uh-oh," Percy muttered, sensing a classic tragic backstory incoming.

Nico nodded, his voice quieting. "Van Gogh had necromancy powers too, but they were different. He could see souls. Not just ghosts, but souls in the living. He could tell when someone's time was almost up, when they were close to death."

Percy frowned. "That sounds... unsettling."

"Yeah," Nico agreed, his voice soft. "It wasn't exactly a gift he asked for. He fell in love with this woman, a prostitute. She wasn't famous or anything, just someone he cared about. He saw her death coming, saw the Fates lining it up, and he tried to stop it."

Percy's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, he went up against the Fates? That's hardcore."

"Hardcore and stupid," Nico said with a bitter edge. "He thought he could change her fate. He used his powers to interfere, but instead of saving her, he made things worse. Much worse. She didn't just die—she suffered. Her end was… horrible. Worse than anything he'd seen in his visions."

Percy winced. "Ouch. So, what, the Fates punished him for meddling?"

"Pretty much," Nico said. "They let him keep his powers, but he lost control of them. After that, he couldn't shut them off. He started seeing the world through auras—souls, life forces, everything. It drove him mad. He couldn't handle what he was seeing all the time."

Percy's face fell. "Man, that's rough. So… that's what led him to his art?"

Nico nodded. "Yeah. His art changed after that. He started painting what he saw, not just with his eyes but with his powers. All those swirls and strange perspectives—he was trying to capture the way he saw souls and auras in the world. That's what made him famous. That's what led to Starry Night."

Percy's eyes went wide again. "Wait—Starry Night? The painting? You're telling me that's a result of Van Gogh losing control of his necromancy powers?"

"Yep," Nico confirmed. "He painted what he saw. All those spirals and light—those were auras, souls drifting through the night. To everyone else, it was this groundbreaking, avant-garde piece of art. But for Van Gogh, it was just his view of reality."

Percy stared at Nico, trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Okay, so not only is one of the most famous paintings in history actually a depiction of souls, but Van Gogh was a literal demigod losing his mind because of his powers."

"Yeah," Nico said simply. "He couldn't handle the sight of death everywhere he went. Eventually, it drove him mad."

Percy was silent for a moment, staring out at the pool's calm surface. "That's… that's seriously heavy."

Nico shrugged, though there was a heaviness in his own voice now. "Not every demigod story ends well. Most of the time, it doesn't."

Percy let out a low breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Man, that makes me feel guilty for complaining about Latin class."

Nico smirked, but there was no real humor behind it. "Yeah, Van Gogh had it a little tougher than memorizing conjugations."

Percy shook his head, still processing all this new information. "And here I was thinking it was weird learning about Theseus in class. But you're telling me two of the most famous people in history were secretly Hades' kids?"

Nico just shrugged. "It's not like they got their powers stamped on their birth certificates."

"True," Percy said, finally cracking a smile. "I guess demigods just blend in with the rest of history, huh?"

"Exactly. Some of us end up in the myths, but most just... disappear. The world never knows." Nico nodded. "I know for a fact that I had a half-sister that was kind of an alchemist, she could summon precious gems and everything. She was a very famous jeweler in New Orleans, she died a couple of decades back. She had a rough start in life, with her powers being out of control and cursing anyone who wore her jewels. But after she got a handle of them, she lived a peaceful life. She married her childhood sweetheart… a Sammy, I think?"

"That's sweet," Percy popped the last cookie into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "But I gotta say, this whole 'secret demigod history' thing is way more interesting than anything I've learned in school."

Nico's lips quirked into a small smile. "Yeah. Maybe we should start our own textbook series. 'The Real Histories of Demigods: Stuff Your Teachers Won't Tell You.'"

Percy laughed, wiping crumbs from his hands. "I'd buy that. And hey, maybe you could get Van Gogh to help with the illustrations. You know, from the Underworld."

Nico rolled his eyes. "I'm not bothering Van Gogh for your school project."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Percy grinned, "it'd be pretty cool to get firsthand accounts from your famous dead relatives."

Nico gave Percy a sideways look, though there was a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "You've got issues, Percy."

"Yeah," Percy said, standing up and stretching, "but that's why we're friends."

Nico stood up as well, dusting off his hands and grabbing his bag. "Come on, let's get out of here before you decide to start recruiting famous demigods for your next project."

Percy grinned, slinging his own bag over his shoulder. "I'll keep it in mind for next time."

As Nico headed to biology, he couldn't help but glance back at Percy as they parted ways. Percy waved casually, his usual lopsided grin in place, but Nico could see through the act. Percy had been laughing, cracking jokes like he always did, but there was something off. Something lingering just beneath the surface, like the dark pull of an undertow.

Nico wasn't exactly the type to pry into people's problems, but he had spent enough time around Percy to recognize when he was putting on a front. Especially today. That moment when they'd been talking about Van Gogh's downfall—how he tried to fight fate and lost—it was like a shadow had passed over Percy's face. His laugh hadn't reached his eyes, and Nico could practically see the gears turning in his head, connecting Da Vinci's tragic story to something much more personal.

The Great Prophecy.

Nico had tried not to think about it too much—about Percy being the one in the prophecy, the one who could either save or destroy Olympus. The whole thing felt like a time bomb ticking down, and everyone at Camp Half-Blood knew it. Sure, Percy kept pretending like everything was fine, but Nico knew better. The weight of it was crushing him, and Percy wasn't exactly great at asking for help.

As Nico reached the biology lab, he slid into his seat, but his mind was elsewhere. He absentmindedly opened his notebook, flipping to a blank page as the teacher droned on about plant cells. The words barely registered. Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back to Percy. Bianca and Thalia had managed to dodge the prophecy by joining the Huntresses, effectively taking themselves out of the running. And then there was Nico himself. After what had happened in the labyrinth, it was clear he wasn't the child of the prophecy. That left only Percy.

Just Percy.

Nico knew the pressure was getting to him, even if Percy never admitted it. The way people whispered behind his back at camp, like he was some kind of ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Every camper at Half-Blood was watching him, waiting to see if he'd be the one to bring Olympus crashing down. And Percy? He played it cool, like always, deflecting with jokes and rolling his eyes at the whispers. But Nico had seen it—the strain. The uncertainty. Percy was brave, sure, but even bravery has its limits.

And it didn't help that Percy didn't have anyone to share that burden with. Nico might've been one of the few Greek demigods who knew about Camp Jupiter and Jason Grace, but even then, Jason wasn't the answer. Percy was older. He would turn sixteen first. He was the one who had to face the prophecy. No one else.

The only thing keeping Percy from breaking was the support of the students at Elysium Prep. Unlike at Camp Half-Blood, where the campers couldn't help but gossip and speculate, the demigods at Elysium Prep had Percy's back. They didn't pressure him about the prophecy or treat him like some kind of walking disaster. They kept the whispers at bay during the last summer, giving Percy some much-needed space to breathe. But Nico knew that wouldn't last forever. The Great Prophecy was looming, and Percy couldn't avoid it forever.

"Mr. di Angelo?" The voice of the biology teacher snapped Nico out of his thoughts. He looked up, realizing he hadn't written a single thing down. The teacher raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer to some question Nico hadn't even heard.

"Uh, sorry. What was the question?" Nico asked, trying to play it cool.

The teacher sighed. "Can you tell me the main difference between plant and animal cells?"

Nico blinked. "One has a cell wall, the other doesn't."

The teacher gave a half-nod, satisfied enough with the answer, and moved on. Nico exhaled, sinking back into his seat. He didn't have time to focus on biology right now. His mind was too wrapped up in what was happening with Percy. There had to be something he could do to help, but what? Percy wasn't the type to just spill his feelings. He'd crack a joke or deflect before admitting he was stressed out. And pushing him to talk? That would just make him retreat even more.

But that didn't mean Nico couldn't be there for him.

He tapped his pen against his notebook, thinking. Percy wasn't ready to talk about the prophecy, that much was clear. But when he was, Nico would make sure he was there. He wasn't good at the whole emotional support thing, but he could at least listen. Percy didn't need someone to offer solutions—he just needed someone to understand. Someone who didn't expect him to be the perfect hero all the time.

By the time biology ended, Nico hadn't taken in a single word about photosynthesis, but he had made up his mind. He couldn't force Percy to open up, but he could make sure Percy knew he wasn't alone when the time came.

As the bell rang, Nico slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the classroom, his mind still on Percy. He could only imagine what was going through Percy's head right now, sitting in some boring math class, probably half-listening while his thoughts swirled around the prophecy. That nagging feeling that his sixteenth birthday was looming closer and closer, bringing who knows what kind of doom with it.

Nico shook his head, heading toward his next class, but his focus was shot for the rest of the day. Everything else seemed trivial compared to the storm brewing around Percy. And despite everything, Nico couldn't shake the feeling that the prophecy was bigger than they all realized. It wasn't just about Percy anymore. It was about the future of Olympus. About all of them.

And if anyone understood the weight of destiny, it was Nico.

As the day dragged on, his thoughts kept returning to Percy's tired smile, the way his laughter hadn't quite reached his eyes. Maybe it was time for Nico to stop waiting for Percy to break and remind him that no matter what happened, he wouldn't be facing it alone. Not with Nico around.

However, as soon as Nico stepped out of his last class, any thoughts about Percy vanished when Mellie, his overly enthusiastic PA and cloud nymph, appeared out of thin air—literally. She materialized in front of him, blocking his path, her translucent form flickering slightly in her excitement.

"There you are!" Mellie said in her high-pitched, cheerful voice, her wispy form bouncing as she floated beside him. "I've been looking everywhere for you. We've got to go! You're running behind schedule!"

Nico sighed, rubbing his temples. He was used to Mellie's sudden ambushes, but they still caught him off guard every time. "I just got out of class, Mellie. Can I get two minutes to breathe?"

"Breathe later, Emperor! You've got a full day ahead," Mellie said, practically buzzing with energy. She glanced at the schedule in her hands. "We've got a board meeting about Elysium Prep in ten minutes, and they're all waiting for you! I've already gathered the latest reports and—oh, you'll be so impressed!"

Nico rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Yeah, thrilled." He adjusted the strap of his backpack and reluctantly followed Mellie down the hallway. "I thought I told you to clear my afternoons for a break. You know, like normal people get."

Mellie glanced back at him with a bright, unbothered smile. "Oh, you did! And I was going to, but then the board insisted on this meeting, and you know how they are. They practically *worship* you, Emperor. You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

Nico groaned. "First of all, stop calling me Emperor. Second, they'll live if I'm not at every single meeting."

"But Elysium Prep is your school, Nico!" Mellie chirped, practically floating through the doors as they entered the elevator. "And the board has such exciting news—they've been dying to share it with you. You'll love it!"

Dying, Nico thought grimly. "If it's another trophy for the sports teams, I think I'll pass."

Mellie ignored his sarcasm and beamed. "Oh, it's much more than that. But yes, the athletic teams have been winning everything. Oh, and don't even get me started on the academic clubs! We've got students acing statewide competitions. The Quiz Bowl team alone—"

"—is probably getting ready to carve my name into a plaque as we speak," Nico interrupted, rubbing his forehead. "Great. Exactly what I needed today. More reasons for people to think I'm some kind of demigod celebrity."

The elevator stopped at the main admin floor, where the board meeting was undoubtedly already in progress. He couldn't escape the feeling of being dragged into yet another obligation, and Mellie's relentless enthusiasm wasn't helping.

"You know," Nico said, trying to keep his voice calm as Mellie zipped ahead of him, "I was really looking forward to maybe—just maybe—having a quiet afternoon where I didn't have to deal with school politics or Triumvirate Holdings or… whatever else you've got lined up for me."

Mellie gasped dramatically, coming to a floating halt just outside the door. "Nico! The school is your legacy! You should be proud that Elysium Prep is rising in the ranks. It's becoming the best school in the district. No—the state! Aren't you even a little bit excited?"

Nico gave her a flat look. "Excited is not the word I'd use, but I'm glad it's doing well."

Mellie huffed but led him inside, where the board members were already seated around a long, polished table. They all perked up the moment Nico entered, as if his presence alone was enough to light up the room. Nico resisted the urge to sigh loudly. He hated this. The attention. The endless compliments. The feeling that, somehow, everything rested on his shoulders. He already had enough of that with Percy and the Great Prophecy looming over their heads—now this?

"Ah, Mr. di Angelo!" one of the board members said with a wide smile, standing up to shake his hand. "So glad you could join us. We were just going over the recent successes of the school's academic and athletic programs."

"Of course you were," Nico muttered under his breath, though he forced a polite nod as he took a seat. Mellie hovered behind him like a too-eager assistant, flipping open a binder that seemed to hold every award the school had earned in the last few months.

"As you can see," the board member continued, sliding a thick packet of reports toward Nico, "Elysium Prep has steadily climbed in rankings. Our athletic teams are dominating the regional competitions, and academically, our students are outpacing even some of the more established private schools in the state."

Nico leaned back in his chair, scanning the reports without really absorbing anything. He knew the drill by now. They'd throw around statistics and percentages, rave about the school's progress, and then expect him to smile and give them some kind of inspirational speech about how proud he was. As if he had time to care about trophies when there were far bigger problems on his mind.

"That's… great," Nico said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "But let's not get too carried away with the rankings. The point of this school wasn't to beat the competition. It was to make sure demigods had a safe place to learn."

"Yes, of course!" another board member chimed in quickly, nodding in agreement. "But still, the recognition we're getting is just a testament to the quality of education we're providing. And it wouldn't have been possible without your leadership."

Nico bit back a groan. He could feel Mellie practically vibrating behind him, ready to jump in with her own glowing praise.

"Right," Nico said, standing abruptly and tossing the report back on the table. "Look, I'm glad things are going well. Really. But let's not forget the bigger picture. Our students are demigods. They're not here to win awards—they're here because they need somewhere safe, somewhere that understands them. The trophies are nice, but they don't mean much when you've got monsters chasing you every other week."

The room fell silent for a moment. The board members exchanged uncertain glances, clearly not expecting Nico's bluntness. Mellie, however, stepped forward with a beaming smile, trying to smooth things over.

"What Nico means," Mellie said, her voice sweet and cheerful, "is that the safety and well-being of our students is always the top priority. But of course, we're also thrilled with their success! It's a balance, right?"

Nico shot her a sideways look but didn't argue. Mellie knew how to handle the politics of these meetings better than he ever could. He just wanted to be done with it.

One of the board members cleared his throat and nodded. "Absolutely, Mr. di Angelo. We completely agree. The safety of our students is paramount, but we're proud of their achievements nonetheless."

Nico gave a curt nod. "Good. Now, if we're done here, I've got other things to take care of."

Mellie quickly gathered up the papers, giving the board members a bright, apologetic smile as Nico headed for the door. "Thank you all for your hard work! I'll be sure to pass on any additional notes to Nico later."

As they stepped out of the meeting room, Nico exhaled sharply. "Please tell me that's the last thing on my schedule for today."

Mellie floated beside him, flipping through her never-ending binder of tasks. "Well, you still have a few things left for Triumvirate Holdings, but I could move those to tomorrow if you really need the rest."

"I do," Nico said firmly. "And tomorrow, too."

Mellie giggled softly, knowing better than to push. "Fine, fine. I'll see what I can do."

As Nico and Mellie made their way back to the elevator, the cool AC air was doing little to wash away the tension from the board meeting. Nico had thought it was over, but of course, Mellie had other plans.

"Actually, there's one more thing the board wanted to discuss," Mellie said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, almost nervously. "It's kind of a big one."

Nico groaned. "Of course there is. What now? Are we renaming the school after me or something?"

Mellie giggled. "Not quite. It's about… well, the fact that normal families—mortals—are starting to notice Elysium Prep. Like, a lot of them."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Mortals? Wanting to send their kids here? Are they insane?"

Mellie gave him an apologetic smile. "The board thinks it's a problem. We've been doing so well—winning awards, getting attention—that now parents with regular, non-demigod kids are starting to ask questions. They want to send their children here because they think it's the best school in the district."

Nico stopped walking, staring at her as if she'd just sprouted extra heads. "You're telling me mortal parents are lining up to send their kids to a school where the average math problem involves avoiding getting vaporized by monsters?"

"Well, none of them know what truly happen is our world… but…" Mellie nodded, floating a bit higher in her nervousness. "That's… exactly what I'm telling you."

Nico rubbed his temples, feeling the headache already forming. "Great. That's just what we need—regular kids showing up, and then we have to explain why their PE class involves sparring with celestial bronze swords."

Mellie's face brightened, as if she had the solution right at hand. "That's why the board wants to talk about it! We need to come up with a way to keep the school hidden from mortal families without drawing too much attention."

Nico let out a sharp breath, already seeing where this was going. "Let me guess: Mist-magic."

Mellie nodded eagerly. "Exactly! The children of Hecate have already offered to help. We could put a notice-me-not spell over the entire school. Mortals will know about Elysium Prep, they'll hear about its achievements, but when it comes time to actually consider sending their kids here, they'll just... dismiss the idea. They won't even realize they're doing it."

Nico thought about it for a second, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications. It wasn't a bad plan. Mortals didn't need to be poking their noses around here, especially not with all the chaos that could break out on any given Tuesday. And honestly, a bit of Mist-magic was probably the simplest way to handle it. But still, it felt like just another layer of responsibility he hadn't asked for.

"What's the catch?" Nico asked, his voice as dry as the Underworld. "There's always a catch."

Mellie's misty form fluttered slightly, as if even she knew this was going to be a bit of a hard sell. "Well… the spell will need constant upkeep. It's not a one-time thing. The children of Hecate will have to maintain it regularly, just to make sure it stays strong. That means we'll need to allocate more resources—probably a team of dedicated students or even staff members—to keep the magic in place."

Nico sighed, already feeling the weight of yet another thing he'd have to manage. "So, on top of keeping the students from getting eaten by monsters, running a school full of demigods, and making sure Percy doesn't completely lose it from prophecy pressure, we also have to make sure mortals don't wander in and accidentally enroll their kids in Greek Mythology 101?"

Mellie bit her lip (or at least, the cloud-nymph version of it) and nodded. "Basically… yes. But think of it this way: once the spell is in place, mortals won't even notice the school. They'll praise it, sure, but when it comes time to actually think about sending their kids here, they'll just… move on. Problem solved!"

Nico's eyes darkened with thought. It was actually a smart solution—one he would've come up with himself if he hadn't been so mentally drained from the endless parade of responsibilities. But that didn't mean he liked it. The idea of having to continuously use Mist-magic to keep the school hidden felt like they were playing with fire. The Mist wasn't foolproof, and it required skill to maintain, especially when dealing with a place as high-profile as Elysium Prep had become.

"So, we just make the school… invisible to them?" Nico said slowly, as if testing the idea on his tongue. "They know it exists, but their brains kind of gloss over it, like they never considered it in the first place."

"Exactly," Mellie said, her eyes lighting up like she'd just won a prize. "It's the perfect compromise. We get to keep the school successful and under the radar, and the mortal families won't get suspicious."

Nico looked away, staring at the bustling city through the window. "I'll need to talk to the Hecate kids. We can't just rush into this without knowing how much magic we're talking about. If this spell breaks or malfunctions, it'll cause more problems than we can handle."

"Of course! I've already set up a meeting with them. You're free tomorrow after lunch to discuss the details," Mellie said, pulling out her endless schedule. "They're excited to work with you. They even mentioned that they could weave some protective elements into the spell, just to make sure it stays stable."

Nico finally cracked a small, dry smile. "Hecate's kids, always thinking ahead. Good."

He started walking again, Mellie floating beside him with her usual cloud of optimism. Nico's mind, however, was still ticking over the endless list of tasks piling up. As much as he hated it, he knew this spell was necessary. The last thing they needed was mortal kids getting mixed up in demigod business. Even if it meant more responsibility on his plate, at least it was better than the alternative.

"So, we'll proceed with the Mist-magic," Nico said as they finally entered the elevator and punched the penthouse level. "But make sure the board understands: this is a long-term commitment. The magic has to be maintained, or we'll have bigger problems than a few extra students."

Mellie nodded, her enthusiasm dimming just a bit at his serious tone. "Of course. I'll make sure they know. But I have faith in you, Nico. You've been handling everything so well. Elysium Prep wouldn't be where it is without you."

Nico shot her a sideways look, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Lucky me."

With that, he entered his penthouse, leaving Mellie in the elevator with her binder full of plans and optimism. As the doors sliding shut behind him, Nico exhaled, leaning back against the wall for a moment.

Another day, another dozen problems to solve.

By the time Nico shadow-traveled to New Rome, the weight of the day pressed on him like an invisible anchor. Being the Ambassador of Pluto had its perks—access to New Rome, power over life and death—but it also meant dealing with the Roman legion's formality and structure. There was no room for brooding or being "just Nico" here. He had to be the Ambassador, had to maintain the stoic, dignified mask that the Romans respected.

Jason was waiting for him, as always. Nico appreciated the stability of Jason's presence, the way the son of Jupiter could always balance being serious without taking himself too seriously. They didn't have to say much as they walked together, heading to the meeting with the praetors and centurions. The familiar walls of New Rome passed by, their golden sunlight giving everything a glow that felt a little too bright for the tiredness settling into Nico's bones.

"So, the usual?" Jason asked as they approached the Senate building, the golden eagle emblem etched into the stone. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it. Jason knew these meetings were never just meetings. There was always some kind of subtle power play going on.

"Yep," Nico muttered. "Just smile, nod, and be the diplomatic Ambassador of Pluto." He rolled his eyes. "It's a lot like being a ghost."

Jason smirked. "You're great at it though. Stoic face, dead eyes—it's your thing."

Nico shot him a look. "I'm not that dead inside."

"Sure," Jason replied, biting back a laugh. "Whatever you say, Death Boy."

They entered the building, the room filled with Roman demigods who had long perfected the art of standing at attention. The praetors were at the head of the table. The centurions were already seated, including Herophile, the augur, who waved at Nico from across the room. She was one of the few people Nico considered a real friend. Hylla was also there, looking like the queen she is. She caught Nico's eye and gave him a small nod—her version of a warm greeting in a public setting.

Nico took his seat next to Jason, settling into the Roman stoicism that everyone expected from him. He was an ambassador, after all. This wasn't Camp Half-Blood or Elysium Prep, where he could openly snap at someone like Clarisse or roll his eyes at Percy's endless stream of jokes. No, here, he had to be careful. His role was about respect and strategy, about helping maintain the delicate balance between the Greek and Roman camps.

The meeting began, and Nico drifted into the routine. Discussions about quests, missions, the status of the camp's defenses. He nodded at all the right moments, offering help where it was needed, especially when they asked about funeral rites for one of their fallen soldiers from a recent quest. It was standard stuff. The kind of thing Nico could handle without thinking.

But through the entire meeting, he felt eyes on him. More specifically, he felt someone glaring at him from across the table. He glanced over to where Herophile sat, and there, right beside her, was the blond kid with an expression that could only be described as pure venom. Nico blinked, genuinely confused.

Jason noticed and leaned over, his voice a quiet whisper that only Nico could hear. "That's Octavian. Legacy of Apollo. He hates you."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Should I know him?"

Jason smirked, but his voice remained low. "He's mad because you helped Herophile become augur. He wanted that position for himself. And… well, he's got no shot at becoming the next praetor, not with Hylla and me around. So, he's bitter. Can't fight with a sword, but he's got a lot of ambition."

Nico stared at the blond for a moment, trying to dredge up any memory of Octavian. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but honestly, with all the chaos in his life, Octavian was about as memorable as the last drachma he'd spent. "I think I've been told about him before," Nico muttered to Jason, "but he's so forgettable. Between everything else I've got to deal with, I'd completely forgotten he existed."

Jason covered his mouth to stifle a snort, while Hylla, who had clearly overheard, bit down on her lip, trying not to burst into laughter. She shot Nico an amused look from across the table. Her intense Amazon queen facade barely held back the chuckle threatening to escape.

Meanwhile, Octavian, unaware of their whispered conversation, continued to glare daggers at Nico, as if he were personally responsible for every failure the blond had ever experienced.

Nico kept his face neutral, his mind half-listening to the rest of the meeting. As the discussions continued about the camp's future, defense strategies, and upcoming quests, he felt the weight of Octavian's gaze still on him. But Nico didn't care. He'd dealt with scarier things than a jealous legacy of Apollo. Heck, he'd been scarier things.

Once the meeting finally wrapped up, Herophile approached Nico with her usual bright smile, completely oblivious to Octavian sulking in the background. "Nico! Thanks again for agreeing to help with the funeral rites. The fallen soldier was a good one. He'll need a proper send-off."

"Of course," Nico replied, his voice as steady as ever. "It's the least I can do."

As Herophile turned to talk to the praetors to about the arrangements, Jason and Nico started walking out, passing by Octavian, who was still brooding in the corner. The guy's glare hadn't let up once. Nico couldn't help but shake his head. Octavian might be bitter, but in the grand scheme of things, he was just another footnote in a long list of Roman demigods.

"I still can't believe he's mad about losing the augur position," Nico muttered. "It's not like he'd be good at it anyway."

Jason smirked. "Probably not. But he has ambition and wants power. Even if it's a terrible idea."

As they stepped outside, the cool evening air hit Nico, and for the first time all day, he felt like he could breathe again. The meeting had gone well enough, even with Octavian's glares, and for now, the Romans seemed stable.

But as always, in the back of his mind, there was that looming thought of Percy, the prophecy, and the inevitable chaos waiting on the horizon.

Jason must've noticed the shift in Nico's mood because he clapped a hand on Nico's shoulder. "You good?"

Nico shrugged, giving Jason a tired look. "Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind."

Jason nodded, his expression serious. "I get it. But hey, you don't have to carry everything on your own."

Nico gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He appreciated Jason's words, even if he didn't fully believe them. He was used to carrying more than his fair share. But still, it was nice to know that, for now at least, he wasn't completely alone.

As they made their way back toward the barracks, Nico caught a glimpse of Octavian watching him from a distance, still fuming.

"Let him stew," Nico muttered to himself. "I've got bigger things to deal with."

"Amen to that, Death Boy." Jason chuckled beside him, clearly overhearing. "Hey, how about some hot cocoa and brownies? You look like you need it after today."

Nico raised an eyebrow, though he didn't need much convincing. "Is this your way of trying to bribe me into more socializing?"

Jason laughed, shrugging. "Maybe. But also, that little coffee place? You know, the one off the main street? Best brownies in New Rome. You can't say no to that."

Nico hesitated for about half a second before sighing. "Fine. But if this turns into some kind of bonding moment, I reserve the right to disappear into shadows."

"Deal," Jason said, already heading off in the direction of the café.

As they walked, they passed by Hylla, who was still chatting with some of the other Roman leaders. Jason shot her a quick invitation, waving her over. "Hey, we're heading to grab cocoa and brownies. Wanna come?"

Hylla glanced at them, then smirked. "Nah, you two go ahead. I have no interest in being a third-wheel."

Nico's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, 'third-wheel'?"

Before Hylla could answer, Jason's face turned a shade of pink that was almost comical. He quickly hissed, "Hylla, shut up."

Hylla just cackled, clearly enjoying Jason's embarrassment far too much. "Oh, you know what I mean, Sparky. You and your little shadowy sidekick over there. Enjoy your alone time."

Jason looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole, but Nico just blinked, staring between the two of them. "What—?"

"Nothing," Jason cut him off, quickly steering Nico away. "Let's go. Ignore her."

Nico let it drop, though his mind was still turning over Hylla's words as they walked. He didn't get it. Jason, blushing? Hylla's teasing? Sometimes, social cues made even less sense than ancient Greek.

When they finally reached the café, Nico was more than ready to focus on something that didn't involve cryptic comments from Jason's sort-of sister. The café itself was small and cozy, tucked away from the busier parts of New Rome, and it had quickly become a sort of private nook for them. The warm scent of chocolate and espresso hit them as they stepped inside, the soft clinking of mugs and low chatter filling the space.

Jason immediately went up to the counter, ordering two hot cocos with extra whipped cream and a plate of brownies. He was grinning like a kid as he turned back to Nico. "Trust me, this will make everything better."

Nico crossed his arms, but there was a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You've got a one-track mind when it comes to food."

Jason grinned, sliding into their usual booth by the window. "Hey, you can't fight monsters on an empty stomach. It's the rule."

They settled into the booth, and for a moment, everything just… relaxed. The weight of their responsibilities—ambassador, hero, demigod—lifted, if only for a little while. When the cocoa and brownies arrived, Jason dove in immediately, making a ridiculous amount of noise as he scooped up whipped cream with a spoon.

"So," Jason said after a moment, wiping whipped cream from his face, "how's the whole Elysium Prep thing going? Still top of the state?"

Nico shrugged, leaning back into the booth. "Yeah. It's… fine, I guess. Mortals are starting to notice it, so I'm working with the Hecate kids to keep them from getting too curious. Last thing we need is some mortal kid wandering into a Greek monster-fighting class."

Jason chuckled. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Can you imagine? A mortal getting dragged into a war games practice?"

"Exactly." Nico took a sip of his cocoa, feeling the warmth spread through him. "I've already got enough on my plate without adding mortal rescue missions to the list."

Jason grinned, popping another piece of brownie into his mouth. "You're managing though. You're good at all this, Nico. Even if it feels like you're constantly drowning in responsibilities."

Nico stared into his cup for a moment, his expression softening. "Yeah, well… it's what I do. Someone's got to keep things from falling apart."

Jason nodded, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café buzzing around them. It was a rare moment of peace, the kind that didn't come often enough in either of their lives. As the sun set outside, casting an orange glow over the streets of New Rome, they caught up about their training, school, and the usual demigod chaos. For a while, it felt like they were just two regular teenagers hanging out—no prophecy, no monsters, no world-saving.

But of course, that sense of normalcy couldn't last forever.

When the sun dipped below the horizon and the café's interior lights flickered on, Nico realized he was too tired to even think about shadow-traveling back to New York City. The thought of summoning the energy to jump halfway across the country made him feel exhausted just thinking about it.

Jason seemed to read his expression. "You are staying in New Rome tonight?"

Nico nodded, already feeling the weight of the day pulling him down. "Yeah. I'll crash at the villa."

Jason grinned, nudging him playfully. "Good. I don't want you passing out halfway between here and the Empire State Building."

"Please," Nico said with a snort. "I'm not that bad. Yet."

They walked out of the café and parted ways outside, Jason heading back to his place in the barracks, and Nico making his way to the Di Angelo villa. The villa was quiet when he got there, the soft hum of Roman architecture all around him. He barely had the energy to climb the stairs to his room before he collapsed face-first onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes.

"Ugh," he groaned into the pillow, his voice muffled. The day had been long—meetings, school, dealing with board members, and then whatever weirdness Hylla had been hinting at with Jason. He didn't even know how to process half of it, but for once, he didn't care.

Sure, it had been a tiring day. A lot of responsibility, a lot of juggling different roles. But somehow, despite everything, it had been… fulfilling. He had handled everything, managed to keep things under control, and even had some decent cocoa and brownies along the way.

Not bad for the Ambassador of Pluto.

As Nico drifted off to sleep, his mind wandered briefly to Percy, to the prophecy hanging over them both. The weight of it was always there, but for now, for this moment, Nico let himself sink into the quiet of the villa. When the time came, he'd be ready to face whatever was coming.

But for tonight? He was content to just sleep.