Chapter Text
It’s the middle of the night. The waxing moon reflects the sun. The stars are dancing lights above, while below, a boy walks down a street, scuffing his shoes on the concrete. A layer of dust settles down after being disturbed and a gentle breeze blows through his hair. He drags his feet, slowly inching towards the end of the road. He walks and walks, each step as if through molasses. The goal is in front now. An unassuming graveyard. Such a fitting place for this hero. The son of death walking through rows of corpses far under. Rotting away into nothing, leaving behind n ot even a memory. He reads the names as each passes.
Katie Eckler
Nikolas Crawford
Remi.. lichens and moss have already swallowed the surname.
The next one reads:
Bianca di Angelo
A beloved hunter
A dearer sister
‘Laughter sounds
As we rejoice
Once again
In each others’ arms’
It is here the hero stops, kneels down and waits. For what? Even he does not know. A sign perhaps, that she is with him. But there is nothing here. He waits still. Maybe an hour passes, maybe do a couple minutes, each one the same as the last. A tree creaks nearby. The boy is instantly on alert, but it’s just the wind. He settles down again, calming his beating heart.
“I guess I’m just too paranoid, aren’t I?”
Silence answers him. He sighs deeply and lowers his head.
“Don’t know what to tell you anymore. I’ve said I miss you probably over a thousand times now. You must be tired.”
The child runs his fingers through his hair.
“I would be.”
Quiet all around. Another sigh breaks it.
“Stupid thing to talk to you, can’t even hear me.” The boy mutters angrily.
The boy gets up. He’s more tired than he was when he came here. Welp, too bad. Life’s not gonna wait for him. Suddenly, there’s a pulse of… something? Emotion, maybe? Hmmm.. that’s quite a bit concerning.
Now, does he want to see what this thing is? Not exactly, it’s probably after midnight by now and the hero has places to be. But life doesn’t wait. There’s another wave. Creeping a couple graves further where the something seems to be emanating from, an unmarked tombstone, the boy crouches down.
The feeling feels weird (very eloquent, the boy knows). It’s not like it’s from something alive because it’s..you know, underground? But it also doesn’t feel dead, exactly. It is extremely weird, and the boy does not like this one bit. It seems that nobody cares what he thinks because within a couple seconds, the pulse becomes almost overpowering, like holding up a boulder while somebody stacks more boulders on top. Is this what holding the sky feels like?? Possibly? He’d have to ask Annabeth.
The hero wants to scramble backwards, but he cannot move, foot rooted to the spot. The pressure bears down more, and more and then: pop! It’s completely gone, so suddenly it’s disorienting.
And then the earth explodes and all the boy can see is a weird, neon green. Clumps of rock and dirt hit him but he doesn’t notice, entranced by the color. What the fuck is this?? The child is shaken out of it by a… being? Maybe? Its eyes flicker between normal, blue, human eyes and ones the same shade of neon that the trance was. They’re intoxicating and giddy, like being told by your favorite bar that tonight, all drinks are free. That was a weird ass analogy, honestly. But the…creature (thing??) seems quite powerful.
“Well…fuck.”
The thing tilts its head back and laughs. Fucking laughs.