[Edited July 28, 2022]

[TW Panic attack & brief suicidal ideation]

[June 25th]

Nico's POV

  Being stuck alone in a jar was just as boring as it sounded. 

  Nico woke up in a small space. So small that he couldn't stretch his legs out all the way, and if he tried to stand, he would hit his head before he could get all the way upright.  It didn't take much poking around on his end for him to realize that he wasn't in a normal cell. For one thing, this container had curved walls and smelled metallic. If he had to guess, he would assume that it was a vase or something similar. Either he had shrunk, or the vase was massive.

  His mind was numb, which was keeping him from going into a full-blown panic attack, but the gears were starting to turn with each passing second. It would only be a matter of time before reality crashed back down on him.

Nico ran his hands all over the interior of the jar, trying to feel for anything helpful. He was mainly searching for anything that indicated that there was airflow of some kind, his chest tightening painfully when he came up empty.

The panic started seeping in.

[Panic attack]

He knew he was in trouble when he felt his throat closing up. His breaths became faster and more shallow as he sank to the floor on his hands and knees. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears and feel his heartbeat resonating throughout his entire body.

  The surface was cold to the touch so he set his head against it in an attempt to pull himself back to reality. It was a technique he had used before a few times with varying degrees of success. 

  After a particularly bad dream, Bruce had once found him in a similar position. The man taught him a series of grounding exercises to do to stop the attack. Nico pulled on all those skills now.

Count, Nico. You can't count and panic at the same time. What are multiples of three?

  "Three, six, nine..." he trailed off as a horrifying thought occurred to him. 'What if I'm almost out of oxygen?' All at once, he became completely still, as though movement alone would use up his remaining air. Silent tears gathered on his chin before eventually dropping onto the back of his hands which were folded in his lap.

  Focus! What can you see? What can you smell? What can you hear? The more you panic, the more air you'll use up.

  There wasn't much he could see in the darkness, though there did seem to be a little bit of light coming from his sword. Why they had left it with him, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter, he didn't have enough space to swing it, and he didn't think he had the energy or oxygen to waste trying something he didn't know would work.

  He couldn't see much, but he could smell the metal casing and some of the acrid Tartarus air that was still on his clothes. He patted his pockets to see if his other items had been taken from him and was pleasantly surprised to see that he still had his dagger coin and the pouches of herbs and seeds from Persephone. The rest of his stuff had been lost.

  He hoped some monster found his greek fire reserves in his backpack and set themselves ablaze.

Even though it wasn't pleasant, he could feel himself starting to breathe easier and the fogginess in his brain was starting to clear. He moved on to the next step of the grounding exercises, hoping that he would be able to come up with a plan once he wasn't panicking.

  Nico couldn't hear much more than his shaky breathing and sniffling. The walls of the jar much have been thick, or he must have been alone. Every once in a while he would think that he heard voices, but they were so muffled that he passed it off as wishful thinking. It didn't matter if they were voices, anyway. They clearly weren't planning to let him out.

  [Panic Attack over]

  When he could piece together coherent ideas again, Nico decided that he wasn't going to die in this jar. If Tartarus had wanted him dead, he would have done it already. They were keeping him alive for something, he just had to live long enough to find out what. Then he might be able to come up with a plan to escape.

  Shadow traveling was out of the question, he would come to find out. Whenever he tried, he was overwhelmed by the voices screaming at him from all sides. They tore his nerves to shreds and left him in a ball on the floor for unknown amounts of time. The voices of the pit had never left him.

  Though his memory of the house of Nyx was hazy, he could still remember the screams of the damned in the rivers. The blood of Tartarus. He couldn't shadow travel without being overwhelmed by the screams.

  His stomach growled. It had been so long since he had eaten real food. The granola bars didn't count. All of his food had been in his backpack which he'd left in the pit. Nico didn't allow himself to linger on that train of thought for very long. He needed to stay focused.

  He felt through his pockets again, hoping that he still had something edible on him but found that the only thing even remotely edible was the pomegranate seeds from Persephone's garden. There were about eight of them left, though he struggled to count them in the darkness.

He used his sword to cut another line in the jar to mark another seed eaten before Nico slipped one between his teeth and sucked the pulp away from the seed. He knew the story of the seed, he couldn't swallow it or he would be bound to the Underworld forever. He spat the seed out and smirked in spite of himself at the sound it made as it bounced off the wall. It felt strange to smile at a time like this, but he was too tired to think much about it. He found himself a comfortable position curled up on the floor and waited for the seed to take effect.

  At first, nothing happened. But all of a sudden he came to the realization that he could no longer move any of his limbs. He had been trying to roll over and found that he couldn't.  Everything was heavy and the sensations of the jar seemed far away-- like he was underwater, waiting to break the surface. Then came the icicles that seemed to creep up through his blood. He couldn't even tell if his eyes were closed.

  An eternity seemed to pass like that, with him not being quite asleep, but not fully awake either. It was a lot like what he imagined a coma to be like. The scariest part was when he realized that he couldn't tell if he was breathing.

  Reyna's POV

It was abundantly clear to the daughter of Bellona why Greeks and Romans were not supposed to meet.

The forum was on fire. There were teams of firefighters riding on chariots with giant foam cannons riding through the street dousing flaming craters. A line of healers were doing triage on the wounded soldiers on the edge of the Pomeranian Line. It turns out that food was an effective weapon. Even the metal plates had been fashioned into makeshift weapons, which now lay discarded in the gutters. Eagles, whose feathers had been singed, flapped uselessly against the ground as they tried to take flight.

  Octavian was taking full advantage of the chaos, helping wherever he could. She'd even caught his eyes on her with a look that said he'd be rubbing this in her face later. He'd been right, after all. Percy had been a Greek, and he helped burn her home to the ground. Again.

  Reyna was calling orders to her troops, trying to bring back order to the chaos. She needed to soothe the betrayal of their praetors, both Jason and Percy, fleeing to the skies when they needed them most. Not only did they abandon their posts, but they left destruction in their wake. When it came down to it, both boys had chosen the Greeks and Reyna knew that would cut her soldiers deep. Especially the fifth cohort.

  She had hoped that seeing Jason again would bring her peace-- knowing that he was alive and well. She had prayed to Jupiter for his safe return so that they could bring prosperity to their people together. But the Jason who had returned here today was not the same man he was when he left. He was so... Greek. And he'd found a partner, a daughter of Aphrodite, no less.

Maybe the goddess had known all those years ago when she had come to her at Charleston. Maybe she had known that Jason was destined to love another. It still didn't take away the hurt she had felt that day when the goddess had told her that no demigod would heal her heart-- that she wouldn't find love where she had prayed or expected. It felt like a cruel joke.

  Reyna wasn't sure she had ever really known love. She, like most demigods, had only one parent. She had never known her mother, and a prophecy had driven her father mad when she and her sister were children. His anger and paranoia turned into a mania-- much like a modern-day poltergeist. In the end, he did not remember how to love.

  She had always known that Hylla loved her, in her own way-- though her sister was a warrior at heart and often kept her at an arm's length to protect her. Even before yesterday's battle, Reyna hadn't heard from her sister in a long time. She had known that she had gone with the Amazons all those years ago, and if past experiences were any indicator, Reyna had been certain that Hylla would fly up the ranks.

  "Praetor!" Octavian called as she moved to leave the Senate House. She pulled Scipio to a stop as the scrawny blond came up beside her.

  "What is it, Octavian?" Scipio shifted his weight restlessly beneath her.

  "Shouldn't we give chase? We have to bring them back here to pay for their crimes against New Rome." Reyna narrowed her eyes at the Augur. He had phrased it like a question, deferring to her decision. Reyna glanced around and say that several people were watching their interaction closely.

  If she said no, Octavian would use that to tie the whole incident around her neck and hang her with it. However, if she formed a search party, that would gain her support from the people, but Octavian as well since it would be his idea. She only had one option here.

  "Yes," she eyed the foam-filled crater where a fountain had once stood, "take a handful of soldiers and send out the eagles. I don't want our resources spread too thin in case this enemy they spoke of happens to be real." Octavian narrowed his eyes.

  "You're sending me?" He had picked up on her little hint, but she pressed on.

  "Of course," she agreed, "after all, it was your suggestion. I should think you would want to see them brought to justice yourself."

  "But praetor," he smiled tightly, "don't you think I would be of more use to the camp right here?"

  "No. The gods have retreated from the Earth. They no longer send us guidance for you to interpret. You'll be the most useful by finding justice for these poor wounded soldiers." Reyna spurred Scipio on before Octavian could protest more. She could feel the snake's burning gaze on her back, but it did nothing to quell her satisfaction. She would have to find solace in the small victories, for now.

  Her happiness did not last long, however. Over the next several hours she put out dozens of fires-- both literally and figuratively-- all over her city. She was constantly getting reports of new damages and injuries as people had started repairing and cleaning up the wreckage. Such senseless destruction.

  Reyna wished she knew what had caused all of this. She knew that Annabeth had adamantly denied that they had anything to do with it, but all evidence pointed to the contrary. Though war was the last thing she wanted, she feared she would have no choice.

Gaea

  She was a mother. Just like any mother, she wanted what would be best for her children. Wouldn't every good and dedicated mother try to ensure their children had the best chances of success? Wouldn't a good mother try to make sure their children inherited a place to call home?

   Humanity wasn't fit to rule over her masterpiece. Her Earth. They had proven that since Prometheus stole fire and Pandora released sickness and death onto the world. Humans only knew how to bring destruction and ruin to all creatures. All beings that were unfortunate enough to inhabit the same planet.

They were destroying her domain piece by piece and she couldn't let it continue. Global warming melting the great ice caps, trash and waste in her once pristine oceans, and rain that burned like acid from the gases that spewed from their machines and factories. What kind of primordial would she be if she didn't seek retribution for all the wrongs humanity had done to her planet?

  The woman, though most would say that the deity was beyond such descriptors, smiled in her sleep. It wouldn't be long now. She'd waited centuries-- she could wait a little longer.

Nico

  He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, or if he even did, but eventually, he had a vision. It seemed to be of Leo walking a pale boy in a toga around the deck of the Argo II. A senator. They had finally met the Romans, then. Nico didn't understand. He thought Gaea had blocked the questers from his view. Maybe she had decided that it wasn't worth using her magic. The more likely possibility was that Gaea had sensed the beginning of the end, and she wanted him to see the destruction of humanity. He had no control over this dreamscape. It would seem that he was along for the ride.

  His vision started out with him being a fair distance from the pair. Leo seemed to be giving the taller boy a tour of all his inventions. Things seemed to be going well. Leo was waving his Wii controller like a madman, pointing it like an index finger as he spoke.

  Then, without warning the tone on the deck seemed to shift. Leo went stiff and marched over to the controls, closely followed by the scarecrow. A chill swept over Nico, though the other two boys seemed unaffected. Leo got behind his 'motherboard' and raised his Wii remote like a baton.

  Watch this, my little hero. Watch me undo all your hard work in a matter of seconds. Then you will see how hopeless your position is.

  The effect was immediate. All at once, the ballistae armed themselves and aimed down off the sides of the ship. A scream lodged itself in Nico's throat as he realized what was about to happen. Leo dropped his hand like he was starting a chariot race and the ballistae started firing one at a time down into New Rome.

  The pale blonde tripped over his toga in his haste to get away from the crazed demigod. That's when Nico recognized his face. It was Octavian.

  If he didn't have the support he needed to go to war against the Greeks before, he would now. The whole city just saw the Greek warship fire onto the city. All the time he had spent trying to make sure everything went smoothly between the camps went up in smoke.

  Leo's eyes met his own across the ship and Nico choked. His irises were gold.

  Nico was ripped from the scene and was instead thrown into what looked like a hypogeum. The hypogeum was a structure under the original colosseum that allowed people to walk and store things beneath the arena. He remembered Annabeth had explained the concept to him a few years ago when she found out he was Italian. It hadn't seemed to matter to her that he was from Venice and not Rome.

  The hypogeum was filled with cages of animals and Greek monsters. Judging by the state of the stone walls, Nico guessed that this was the original one. The one in Rome. They had brought him home. Was this where Gaea's forces were?

He turned slowly, though it wasn't exactly like he was moving since it was still a vision. Chains had been hung from the ceiling with gears and levers littering the walls. It would almost be impossible to guess which lever belonged to which cage if you didn't already know.

  Something shiny in the corner of his vision caught his eye. He turned to face it and found a bronze vase that was at least as tall as he was. His mouth went dry.

  Yes. You know what that is, don't you? It was smart of you to use those seeds, but you're only delaying the inevitable. My boys will make sure you stay out of trouble. I wouldn't worry about being rescued, either. I've made sure they'll be too busy to get to you in time.

  The ground started to shake as if it were an earthquake. The loose chains clanked noisily from the ceiling. The creatures in the cages started making noise, so much so that Nico couldn't hear himself think.

  It was so loud that he didn't realize that the thing that was causing the room to shake was getting closer. It wasn't until he caught a flash of movement in the reflection of the vase that he turned and saw just which boys Gaea had been talking about.

  They were giants. Ephialtes and Otis, if he had to guess. The twins who were meant to oppose Bacchus or Dionysus. They were short for giants, and one was wearing a pirate's outfit and the other appeared to be a jester. Normally he would have found their appearance humorous, but now all he could think about was the prophecy. His stomach sank and disbelief washed over him.

  How did that line go again? Twins snuff out an angel's breath? I've put both my boys in charge of you. You should feel honored.

  Honored wasn't the word Nico would have used. He had come into this knowing that he wouldn't make it out alive, but this wasn't what he had pictured. The son of Hades had planned on going out in a blaze of glory in the pit, not slowly suffocating in a bronze jar while the questers risked their lives to finish what he started.

  A sob escaped his mouth as the hopelessness set in. This is how he was going to die, far from home and without completing his mission. He was glad his brothers weren't here to see him now.  He didn't want them to know he failed. Though they'd know soon enough if Gaea managed to wipe out both the camps and reclaim the Earth.

  That's right. Weep, little one. You fought so hard and still failed. Lay down and accept your fate. And should your 'friends' come to save you, we'll be waiting for them.

  The two giants passed him and he watched them stand over the bronze jar, eying it with dissatisfaction. One opened the lid and looked inside. Nico could almost imagine that he felt a gust of fresh air against his face before the giant closed the lid again and they stalked away.

  I'm sorry... Nico thought as the vision faded into blackness. He wasn't sure he cared if he ever woke up.

[I'm so mean, aren't I? I'm still not happy with this so I will likely come back over it later.]