I don't own PJO, HoO, or ToA and its characters; all characters belong to Rick Riordan.
I only own the Original Characters.
As they stepped into the DOA lobby, a soft Muzak tune drifted through the air, clashing awkwardly with the oppressive stillness that hung over the room. The carpet and walls were a dull steel gray, the furniture black leather—cold and unwelcoming. Every seat was occupied, but not by the living.
It didn't take long for them to realize what they were witnessing. These were the souls of the dead—spirits who couldn't afford the ferryman's price. A weight settled over the group, heavier than the Underworld's gloom.
One spirit, in particular, caught Genji's eye. The gang leader he had killed in the alley sat among the others, staring straight at him. His gaze wasn't accusing, nor pleading—just hollow, resigned. Genji stared back, unflinching. He didn't feel guilt; the man had earned his fate. But as he looked around at the other souls—children, elderly, ordinary people—he couldn't help but wonder how many of them had been condemned unfairly.
Mortals were destined to die. His parents and grandmother had taught him that from a young age. That didn't mean he enjoyed being the one to end their lives.
A hand tugged at his arm.
"Hey, you okay?" Percy asked. Then he followed Genji's line of sight and froze. Recognition flickered in his eyes before he swallowed hard.
Genji exhaled. "Yeah. Let's get this over with." He turned, guiding the group toward the security desk. Annabeth and Grover, avoiding the spirit's gaze, quickly followed.
The desk sat atop a raised podium, as if deliberately designed to make its owner look down on visitors. That owner wasted no time acknowledging them—specifically, Genji.
"You're not welcome here, Godling. Begone," a smooth, dismissive voice said.
The speaker was tall and elegant, his presence radiating authority. He wore a silk Italian suit that complemented his bleached blond hair, and a pair of tortoiseshell shades hid his eyes. Embroidered on his lapel was a single name: Charon.
Genji met his gaze, unbothered. "Unfortunately, that's not an option. We need passage to the Underworld." He subtly positioned the others behind him, standing firm.
Charon scoffed. "And why, pray tell, would I help you?"
Genji didn't answer with words. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his sword and leveled it at Charon's neck in one swift, fluid motion. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Because you'll realize that helping us is in your best interest," Genji said evenly.
The air turned heavy, thick with unspoken threats. Charon's lips curled in amusement rather than fear.
"You barge in here, threaten me, and still expect my aid?" he said, voice laced with disdain.
Genji sighed and lowered his sword. "I was just illustrating that we have two ways of handling this." He gestured to Percy, who placed a heavy sack of drachmas on the desk. "This is the easy way."
Charon's attention snapped to the bag. He opened it, sifting through the golden coins with a practiced eye. Even with his shades on, they could tell he was interested.
Percy leaned in slightly. "I doubt Hades pays you enough for everything you have to deal with." His voice was smooth, persuasive. "You deserve better."
Charon hummed, tempted. Then his gaze flicked back to Genji. "If you were planning to bribe me, why the sword?"
Genji smirked. "To make sure you understood your options." He held up the blade for emphasis. "But I think we both prefer this method, don't we?"
Percy pressed the advantage. "You get us to Hades, and we'll put in a good word for you. Maybe even help you negotiate a raise."
Charon studied them for a moment longer before exhaling dramatically. "Fine. The boat is nearly full anyway. Might as well put you four on it." He rose from his seat, motioning for them to follow.
As they walked past the waiting souls, spectral hands reached out to them, grasping at the air, their voices whispering desperate pleas. Some begged for passage, others simply wailed, lost in their despair.
With a single wave of his hand, Charon shoved them back, grumbling, "Freeloaders."
They stepped into the elevator, which was already crowded with spirits. Charon turned, glaring at the ones left behind. "Don't try anything stupid, unless you want to spend another few centuries here."
The doors closed. Instead of descending, the elevator lurched forward, the air around them thickening with mist. The walls shimmered and shifted—suddenly, they were no longer in an elevator but on a wooden barge.
The spirits changed as well, their modern clothes replaced by tattered gray robes. Charon's pristine suit melted away, replaced by a long black cloak. His flesh became translucent, his skull faintly visible beneath the surface.
They were crossing the River Styx.
The water was thick, sluggish, black as ink, but within it, faint flickers of light drifted—shattered remnants of dreams, ambitions, regrets left behind by the dead.
Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were silent, taking in the haunting sight. But Charon turned to Genji.
"That spirit you were staring at," he said casually. "Was he your first kill?"
Genji's expression didn't change. "What?"
"The first mortal you've killed with your own hands," Charon clarified. "You seemed… interested in him."
Genji's grip on his sword tightened slightly. "He made his choice. He was warned."
Charon chuckled. "Typical of mortals. If it helps, his soul was rotten. If he gets judged, he'll end up in the Fields of Punishment."
Genji simply hummed in response. He didn't want to discuss it, and fortunately, Charon seemed to take the hint.
They sailed in silence, mist curling off the filthy water. Above them, nearly lost in the gloom, stalactites loomed like jagged teeth. In the distance, the shore came into view, bathed in an eerie green glow.
And then the barking started.
A deep, guttural snarl echoed through the air, followed by a sound that sent a shiver down even the bravest spine—a growl that could only belong to something massive.
"The Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said, grinning. "Bad luck for you four."
The barge scraped against the black sand, the volcanic shore stretching toward a towering stone wall.
As the spirits began to disembark, Charon turned to them one last time. "Don't forget to mention my raise to the boss."
Then, without another word, he pushed off from the shore, vanishing back into the mists of the Styx.
As they reached the entrance to the Underworld, three different paths stretched before them. Two were labeled "Attendant on Duty," while the third bore the ominous inscription "EZ Death." All three lay beneath a massive black archway with the words "YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS" etched across its surface. But before they could contemplate which path to take, their next challenge loomed ahead.
Cerberus.
The monstrous Rottweiler stood where the path split, his three heads scanning the area with piercing red eyes. He was easily twice the size of a mammoth, and from the way he sniffed the air and barked, he already knew they were there. However, the demigods couldn't see him yet. Unlike divine beings and spirits, mortals could only perceive Cerberus when they were dangerously close—often a sign that their deaths were imminent. That meant the trio could still hear his deep, echoing growls without realizing just how massive and deadly their obstacle was.
As they continued forward, they observed the souls of the dead trudging along their respective paths. Those who chose EZ Death sought to avoid judgment, instead resigning themselves to the Asphodel Fields—a bleak, endless plain where spirits wandered for eternity. The other lines were for those who dared to face judgment. Those deemed honorable and righteous would earn a place in Elysium, a paradise of eternal bliss. The wicked, however, were condemned to the Fields of Punishment, where they suffered torturous and ironic fates crafted by none other than Hades himself. From what Genji had learned from his father, his uncle had a particularly creative streak when it came to punishing evildoers.
Before they could finish their discussion, the trio finally realized where the barking was coming from. They could see him now.
Genji's blood ran cold.
They were close enough to die.
Cerberus was watching them. All three heads focused intently on the group, unblinking. Whether that was a good or bad thing remained unclear.
"Okay, are we sure this will work?" Percy whispered.
Annabeth hesitated. "Orpheus got past Cerberus this way," she whispered back. "So… theoretically, it should work for us too."
"And if it doesn't?" Grover whimpered.
Genji answered for her. "Pick a god and pray." He was already pulling out his phone, scrolling through music files.
As they moved closer, Cerberus began growling, deep and guttural. Grover, who could understand him, paled.
"He's not happy," Grover whispered. "A godling and three living mortals don't belong here. And he's hungry."
Translation: they were about to become dog food.
But then, Genji pressed play.
Soft, classical music filled the air.
The transformation was instantaneous.
The fire in Cerberus' eyes dimmed, replaced by curiosity. His ears perked up. His massive tail—thick as a tree trunk—began wagging. Within moments, the terrifying hellhound yawned, stretched, and sat down, accidentally crushing a few unfortunate spirits beneath him. Not that it mattered—they simply reformed on the other side and continued their journey like nothing had happened.
Gradually, Cerberus lay down, resting his enormous heads on his paws. And then, he was asleep.
Genji carefully placed the phone near the colossal beast before motioning for the others to move. Silently, they slipped past Cerberus, their steps careful, measured. They were almost through the archway when—
ALARMS BLARED.
The sudden wail of sirens shattered the eerie silence. Across the paths, the ghoulish sentries that had been patrolling the Underworld froze—then turned their attention toward the intruders.
Cerberus' eyes snapped open. He barked—a deafening, thunderous sound that shook the ground beneath them. More guards rushed toward the noise, drawn by the commotion.
"Run!" Genji shouted.
With no other choice, the group bolted, plunging deeper into the Underworld. Their only hope was to disappear among the countless souls and avoid capture long enough for the guards to lose interest.
After that?
They had a god to meet.
After a long time spent hiding, they finally managed to evade the ghouls chasing them. It had been especially difficult for Genji, who had to focus on suppressing his divine presence to avoid detection by the Underworld's guards. But he succeeded and blended in with the spirits alongside the others.
Once the danger had passed, they resumed their journey toward Hades' palace, taking in the eerie landscape of the Underworld as they walked. The cavernous ceiling loomed high above them, so vast that it even had clouds drifting across it. Jagged stalactites hung precariously, some looking sharp enough to skewer anything unfortunate enough to be below them. The group kept a wary eye on the ones that had already fallen and embedded themselves in the ground, making sure not to walk beneath any that seemed unstable.
Along the way, they caught glimpses of Elysium and the Fields of Punishment. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were all absorbed in thoughts of what those places represented—paradise for heroes, torment for sinners. But Genji found himself preoccupied with something else entirely.
From what his parents had told him, killing a god was nearly impossible. Even if someone managed to do it, gods would eventually return, resurrected by the memories and beliefs of mortals. That meant they never had to worry about an afterlife the way mortals did. And yet, his mother had once mentioned that there was a way to permanently destroy a god. She never elaborated on what it was, and now Genji found himself wondering. But what actually happens if a god truly dies? Do they go somewhere? Or do they just... disappear?
Before he could dwell on the thought any longer, a sudden commotion snapped him out of his reverie.
Grover's sneakers sprouted wings and took off, dragging him into the air.
Genji had always thought it was odd for a satyr to wear shoes, but now he understood their purpose. What he didn't understand was why they were activating now—and judging by the alarmed looks on Percy and Annabeth's faces, neither did they.
"Grover, stop messing around!" Percy shouted.
"I'm not! They're doing this on their own!" Grover yelled in a panic, flailing his arms as the shoes carried him off. He desperately shouted, "Maia! Maia!"—the command word that was supposed to deactivate them.
It didn't work. The shoes only accelerated, pulling Grover toward something unseen in the distance.
Percy and Annabeth immediately bolted after him. Genji hesitated for only a moment before following, quickly overtaking them thanks to his divine speed. As Grover flailed helplessly in the air, Genji caught up, grabbed him by the arm, and slammed his feet against the ground. The sheer force of his stop yanked Grover back, nearly snapping the satyr's arm in the process, but at least he was no longer being dragged away.
By the time Percy and Annabeth reached them, they wasted no time prying the enchanted sneakers off Grover's feet. The moment they were free, Grover practically collapsed onto Genji, hugging him tightly and muttering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..." over and over again.
But Genji, Percy, and Annabeth weren't paying attention to him anymore. Their eyes were fixed on the direction the shoes had been heading before they were stopped.
A cave.
It loomed ominously in the distance, its mouth a gaping darkness that seemed to swallow the dim light of the Underworld itself. Percy took a step forward, staring at it with an oddly familiar expression—one of recognition.
"I have to check it out," he muttered.
"Percy, no!" Annabeth protested.
But he was already moving. Annabeth sighed in frustration before following him, leaving Genji and Grover behind.
Genji felt an instinctive wrongness from that cave. Every fiber of his being told him to avoid it at all costs. But after a few seconds of hesitation, he sighed and turned to Grover.
"Stay here."
Then he stepped forward, heading toward the cave's entrance.
Just as he got close, Percy and Annabeth came sprinting out, their faces pale and filled with terror.
Before he could ask what happened, a violent gust of wind erupted from the cave, pulling at everything around it—dragging spirits, pebbles, even loose scraps of clothing toward the darkness. Genji immediately flared his divine aura, pushing back against the unseen force. Whatever was inside the cave noticed him. He could feel its attention shift toward him for a brief moment—curious, calculating—before it withdrew. The wind stopped.
Genji exhaled and turned to the two demigods. "What did you see?"
Annabeth swallowed hard. "I think... I think we found the entrance to Tartarus."
"That explains a lot."
Genji looked at Percy, who still seemed shaken. "Why did you go in there?"
Percy hesitated before answering. "That place… it's been appearing in my dreams."
Genji frowned and glanced back at the cave. It seemed even more sinister now.
"Then we better get moving," he decided. He turned away, urging the others forward.
As they resumed their journey, a strange feeling settled in Genji's chest. Something about Percy's backpack was off. There was an energy coming from it—faint but unmistakable. And what disturbed him the most… was that it felt oddly familiar.
Genji's fingers twitched at his side. That energy—it was unmistakable. He'd felt it before, a thrumming power that resonated deep in his bones. He couldn't ignore it any longer. Not when they were about to walk straight into Hades' domain.
"Percy," Genji said abruptly, halting in his tracks. "Give me your backpack."
Percy turned, brow furrowed. "Genji, we don't have time for this."
"This isn't a request." Genji's voice was low, urgent. "I need to check something. Now."
Percy hesitated, then glanced at Annabeth. Her gray eyes narrowed, calculating, but after a beat, she gave a reluctant nod. Grover just shrugged, his fingers nervously plucking at his panpipe.
With a sigh, Percy slid the backpack off his shoulders and handed it over. Genji wasted no time. He unzipped it, rummaging through the contents—until his hands closed around something cold, humming with raw power. His breath hitched.
"Genji?" Percy took a step forward. "What's wrong?"
Wordlessly, Genji pulled the object free.
A two-foot-long cylinder of celestial bronze gleamed in the dim light, capped at both ends with crackling, god-forged explosives. The air around it shimmered with energy, thick enough to taste.
Annabeth's voice was barely a whisper. "The Master Bolt."
Grover let out a strangled bleat. "That was in your bag this whole time?!"
"It wasn't there before!" Percy protested. "The backpack—Ares gave it to me—"
"Ares," Genji finished, his grip tightening around the Bolt.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just this—just the weight of divine power in his hands. His chest swelled with something dangerously close to triumph. This was it. The key to his freedom. Return the Bolt to Zeus, and the chains of his grandmother's expectations would shatter. He could go anywhere. Be anything. No more hiding. No more waiting.
His fingers drifted toward the pendant at his throat—
Then he caught Percy's gaze. The son of Poseidon watched him, wary but trusting. Beside him, Annabeth's expression was steel, her mind already racing ahead, dissecting his every twitch. And Grover—poor Grover—looked like he was bracing for betrayal.
Genji's jaw clenched.
They trusted me.
The realization struck harder than he expected. He'd been sent to watch, to intervene only if Percy proved guilty. But Percy wasn't the thief. And in the short time they'd traveled together, they'd fought side by side, laughed, risked their lives for one another.
Could he really walk away now?
With a slow exhale, Genji slid the Bolt back into the backpack and handed it to Percy.
Percy blinked. "Genji?"
"I'm thinking." Genji raked a hand through his hair. His grandmother's stories echoed in his mind—tales of the gods, of grudges and secrets. And one detail stood out: Hades was the responsible one. The one who kept his word. The one who didn't act without reason.
A plan began to form.
"Annabeth," he said suddenly, "on the bus—what exactly were the Furies saying to you?"
Annabeth's eyes flickered as she replayed the memory. "They kept screaming, 'Give it back.'"
"But we didn't have the Bolt then," Percy pointed out.
"Exactly." Genji's lips curled into a grim smile. "Which means they weren't after Zeus's weapon."
Annabeth's breath caught. "You think Hades had something stolen too."
Genji nodded. "And we all know who took it."
Clarity dawned across their faces. The pieces locked into place.
They weren't just carrying a weapon.
They were carrying leverage.
As they neared the palace, Genji turned to the others. "Remember the plan. Follow my lead, do as I do, and let me do the talking. Speak only if Hades addresses you directly. Understood?"
They all nodded.
"Do you have your pearls?" he asked.
In response, they extended their hands, each holding a shimmering white pearl.
"Good. Those are your way out if things go south."
"What about you?" Annabeth asked.
Genji glanced at her before holding up the pendant his mother had given him. "I have my own way out. Don't worry about me."
With that, they stepped through the massive bronze gates of the palace. The black outer walls loomed over them, etched with ancient engravings of death and destruction. One panel depicted men dying in the trenches, another showed an atomic bomb detonating over a city, while another captured the skeletal figures of famine-stricken people. Though the scenes were thousands of years old, they were disturbingly vivid.
To their right, a lush garden stretched along the path, filled with exotic, colorful fruits. The air was thick with their intoxicating scent. Grover had to be dragged away, his goat instincts drawn toward the forbidden delicacies.
"That's Persephone's garden," Annabeth warned in a hushed voice. "Eat anything from there, and you'll belong to the Underworld forever."
They kept moving, finally reaching the palace's main hall. The ceiling didn't exist—above them was the cavernous void of the Underworld itself. Black columns lined the corridors, their surfaces smooth and polished like obsidian. The deeper they ventured, the colder the air became.
The entry hall had a bronze floor polished to a mirror-like sheen. Every doorway was flanked by two skeleton guards, their armor spanning different eras of history. Some wore Greek hoplite armor, others bore the uniforms of Napoleonic soldiers, and at the far end, two stood in modern U.S. Marine gear, rocket-propelled grenades held across their chests. Despite their lack of eyes, Genji could feel them watching.
Just as he raised his hand to knock, a warm gust of air rushed past them, and the massive doors creaked open on their own. The guards stepped aside.
"So, he's already expecting us," Genji muttered before stepping forward.
Inside, they finally came face to face with Hades, Lord of the Dead.
He towered over them at ten feet tall, clad in flowing black silk robes, a golden crown resting atop his head. His alabaster skin contrasted sharply with his jet-black hair, which fell to his shoulders. He wasn't as physically imposing as Ares, but Genji knew that meant nothing. His mother, Amaterasu, rarely looked intimidating unless she wanted to—but she was one of the most powerful goddesses in her pantheon. Hades was no different. His mere presence sent a chill through the room.
Percy, unused to being in the presence of one of the Big Three, seemed the most affected.
They stopped at the foot of his throne, which was carved entirely from fused bones. Without hesitation, Genji dropped to one knee, and the others followed his lead.
Hades regarded them with mild amusement. "It has been a long time since the children of my brothers have shown me proper respect."
A pause. Then, his voice echoed through the chamber. "Rise."
Genji stood first, and the others followed. After a moment of silence, he spoke. "Lord Hades, we know you have been wronged."
Hades raised an eyebrow.
"We are aware that something valuable has been stolen from you," Genji continued, "but I swear to you, Percy is not the one you seek."
Hades's gaze shifted to Percy. "You claim he is not a thief," he said slowly, "and yet he carries your father's weapon." His voice darkened. "Why should I believe in his innocence when the proof of his crime stands before me?"
"I know how it looks, Lord Hades, but Percy is nothing more than a victim of Ares's schemes," Genji said firmly. "If you allow him to explain, you will see the truth."
Hades leaned forward on his throne, eyes narrowing. "Very well. Speak, thief. Convince me."
Percy hesitated before launching into his story. He told Hades everything—learning about his divine heritage, receiving the quest, the run-in with Ares, the events in the Thrill Ride O' Love, and how the Master Bolt mysteriously appeared in his backpack.
Hades listened in silence, his expression unreadable. When Percy finished, the god leaned back into his throne, fingers steepled in thought.
"So, Ares should have my Helm as well," he mused.
Genji took the opportunity to push further. "Ares also told Poseidon that Percy was the thief of the Master Bolt," he said. "He's trying to ignite a three-way war between you and your brothers. But if you allow us, we can help you recover what was taken."
Hades's eyes gleamed. "And what exactly was stolen from me?"
"Your Helm of Darkness," he replied.
Hades nodded. "I left it unattended for but a moment," he admitted, "and when I turned back, it was gone."
Annabeth, unable to contain her curiosity, blurted out, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Genji shot her a sharp look—he had explicitly told them to let him handle the talking.
Hades's gaze snapped to her, his expression hardening. "I am not a fool," he said coldly. "No one on Olympus would care to see justice done. So I searched on my own." His eyes flicked back to Percy. "But it seems I had the wrong suspect."
"We can retrieve it for you, Lord Hades," Genji said, drawing the god's attention once more. "Send us to Ares, and we will reclaim what is yours."
Silence stretched between them. Then, the sound of flapping wings filled the chamber as the Furies descended, landing beside their master.
Hades considered them for a long moment before finally speaking. "Very well."
He lifted his hand, summoning a swirling mass of golden dust. The particles gathered beside them, taking shape—until Percy's mother stood frozen in place, as if caught mid-motion.
Hades's voice was calm, but laced with warning. "If you attempt to deceive me, Perseus Jackson, your mother will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?"
Percy's hands clenched at his sides, his gaze flickering between his mother, his friends, and Hades. Finally, he met the god's eyes and gave a single nod. "You have a deal. But when we return your Helm, you let her go."
Hades smirked slightly. "Deal."
With a wave of his hand, a portal of swirling shadows materialized before them. "You will find Ares on the other side. And remember—I want my Helm."
Genji nodded before stepping toward the portal.
Just as Percy was about to follow, a thought struck him. He turned back to Hades. "Oh, by the way—Charon wants a raise."
A vein twitched in Hades's temple. "Do not push your luck, sea-spawn."
Percy grinned. "Worth a shot." Then, with one last look at his mother, he stepped into the darkness.
A war god awaited them.
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