[Edited July 27, 2022]

[I honestly don't have time to be doing this but for the 1 Mil celebration, I'll have to make time!]

[TW Gore and Horror, Derealization & Depersonalization, psychological distress, & brief suicidal ideation. I am serious so please read at your own risk.]

Nico's situation was getting more and more desperate by the minute. He had managed to dispatch or chase away all the curse harpies but not without a cost. He had been cursed-- his cracked ribs and the traitor's brand on his chest ached with every breath. There was also the fact that Nico was running dangerously low on firewater, though it didn't seem to have much of an effect on the curses. He'd just have to keep moving and hope that he could push through long enough to find a way to complete his mission.

To that end, Nico had a problem. One of many, at the moment, but still a problem. He didn't know where to find this goddess. The harpies had said something about her being the only one who could help him? Akhlys? The name bounced around in his brain. He knew that name from somewhere. Where? It felt important and it would have been infuriating to him if he weren't in so much pain. He wished he had paid more attention to the monsters and deities classes at Camp Half-Blood instead of doodling in his notebook.

He stopped on a ledge that was just barely wide enough for him to stand on if he pressed his back into the wall. His legs trembled and he prayed to anyone who could hear him that he wouldn't fall to his death. There was still quite a way to climb before he would be out of the Phlegethon canyon and he didn't think he'd be able to make it in this condition. Rifling through his utility belt, Nico brought out a pouch of ambrosia. He risked an entire square and took a breath of relief as a wave of warmth came over him. He hoped it was from healing and not that he had overdone it and was about to combust. It was doing something at least. It was a temporary fix. Curses would take more than ambrosia and firewater to heal. This was putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.

It was then that he realized how outmatched he was. He was dying. Slowly but surely these curses and this atmosphere were eating away at him. He was losing and he hadn't even reached the doors. How would he be able to fight off the army by himself? How did he expect to make it far enough through the swarm that was no doubt gathered around the doors? How could he expect to get close enough to the doors to even have a chance at freeing them?

Nico couldn't stand the idea that this had all been for nothing. He had given everything up so that he could give his friends on the surface a chance. They were risking their lives fighting an unbeatable army. They were relying on somebody to even the odds and Nico had every intention of making that happen. He had to. He had gotten this far, after all. It was a noble thought, but standing on that ledge with his knees shaking, Nico couldn't see how he was going to make that happen.

He had come down here with the understanding that it was going to be a one-way trip. He hadn't ever imagined that he'd be out before the final fight. A wave of defeat forced him to press himself tightly against the cliff face. This wasn't a battle he could win, was it? His eyes began to sting with unshed tears and he contemplated just leaning forward and letting gravity pull him to the canyon floor below. Gravity would be kinder to him than the monsters would.

Then he heard it-- the heart-wrenching wailing in the distance. Sounds of pure misery shook Nico to his very core. he found himself frozen to his spot as the sound brought forth every memory that he would have rather forgotten. Every moment he felt grief, betrayal, hatred, or pain came rushing to the forefront of his mind. His throat closed up and he clutched his hands over his ears though it did little to block out the sound. He felt repulsed and pulled to the wails in equal measure. He felt as though they were calling specifically for him. Then it fell silent and the whole of Tartarus seemed to be holding its breath.

Nico found that he could breathe again, but his legs had turned to jelly. He grabbed a handhold before his legs gave out and dropped him to the ground below. He took a few deep breaths and regained his balance. Just as he had started to believe that he had imagined it, the noise started up again, this time even louder. Again Nico was pressed into the wall with horrible memories and he found that his body was trembling involuntarily. Then all at once, the wail cut off as it had before.

It was unnerving and tempting at the same time. Nico knew that this was probably a trap, but right now it was the only lead he had. It was a shred of hope. He had to go now before he was too weak to climb. Nico peeled himself off the wall and resumed his climb. Luckily it seemed that the ambrosia was taking the edge off of... everything. It was a hard endeavor and his legs and arms were burning by the end of it, but he managed to make it to the top. He pulled himself over the edge and promptly collapsed-- most of his energy was spent.

He laid face-down on the sharp shards, not even bothering to push them away from his face. With his ears to the ground, he could hear the rhythmic thrum of the ground. If he paid enough attention, he could feel the floor pulse in time with the noise. For a few moments, he was the calmest he had been since he entered the pit. Then suddenly the ground was no longer obsidian and was instead a glistening pink membrane. Nico scrambled to get his face away from the tissue and frantically wiped the imaginary residue off of his face. The pulse had been a heartbeat. A moment later the screaming started again.

This sent the son of Hades over the edge. It was just too much. He curled over his folded legs and pressed his forehead to his knees. Nico intertwined his fingers behind his head, pressing his forearms tightly against his ears to try and block out the wailing, but to no avail. Hot tears dripped from his eyes onto his pants but he paid them no heed. He had to focus on breathing. Just keep breathing. Don't think about it. You won't make it if you keep thinking about it.

But telling himself those things was pointless. It was like telling himself not to breathe. It was automatic. He couldn't stop thinking about it. How could he fight against a being the size of this realm? A realm that stretched as far as he could see in any direction. How could anybody? He gently rocked himself back and forth until he became aware of the squishing of the membrane beneath him and he had to stop. His brain screamed at him that he didn't have time for a breakdown. He knew that-- but he couldn't cope with the enormity of the pit and the hopelessness he was feeling right then. His body was shutting down.

He needed to move. He needed to get somewhere safer or find the wailing-- something. He was exposed out here like this, but he couldn't get himself to move. This wasn't what Batman had taught him, but right then that life seemed far away, almost unreal. Had he really been living with a vigilante or had his mind just fabricated the whole thing as a way to cope? What if he had been in Tartarus all this time? What if he had died in the Titan War and this was his field of punishment? What if he was in a coma?

The screaming stop, allowing him enough of a reprieve to have some coherent thoughts.

What would Bruce do?

There it was. There was the strength that Nico needed. What would Bruce do? How would Batman handle a situation like this? Nico managed to slow his breathing a bit and get more control over his shaking as his brain scrambled for the answer. What would Batman do?

"He would keep going," Nico said aloud. Batman wouldn't give up because it seemed hopeless. Bruce had once told him that everything had a solution if you were paying attention and kept giving yourself more chances to come up with something. Basically, if Nico gave up here, that is as far as he would ever get and he would never know whether or not he could have completed his mission. If he followed through with his plans, however, he might find something that made his situation less hopeless. He would never know if he just stayed there and let something kill him. He had to move.

The lone demigod forced himself up-- trying his best not to acknowledge the pink, pulsing membrane beneath him. He couldn't acknowledge it. Not if he wanted to remain on his feet. He would follow the wailing and approach with caution. Maybe if he helped whoever or whatever was making those noises, they would help him in exchange. He had to try. Just one foot in front of the other.

++++

After what felt like an eternity, the membrane shifted slowly back into the obsidian floor. This switch wasn't sudden like the other ones were. Instead, the change started in patches and looked like the obsidian had grown out of the fleshy membrane. Nico decided not to dwell on that line of thought for too long, though. After the obsidian was back, traveling was much more enjoyable. He was still cursed, still in pain, and still traveling towards the miserable wailing, but at least he wasn't going insane. He could deal with physical and even emotional pain. What he couldn't deal with was a mental break. He had to keep his wits about him.

The wails weren't hard to follow. They got louder the closer he got and they were almost constant at this point. He knew that it was possible that monsters were being drawn in by this noise as well so he made sure to be careful and keep a lookout for movement around him. If he got caught out here in the open in the state that he was in... he wouldn't stand a chance.

At one point Nico came across a surprisingly nice encampment that looked larger and more detailed than most monsters could manage. Though monsters weren't really in the business of building. Whoever this plot belonged to, they weren't your typical monster. This also seemed to have been here a long time if the skeletons were anything to go by. There were hundreds of skulls wrapped around trees in ways that shouldn't have been possible. It looked like the tree had grown up right through the middle of the beast's mouth. There were tons of smaller bones strewn about the place as well.

In the distance, Nico heard a strange hissing roar. Something moved in the hut, almost in response to this noise. Nico ducked behind a rock, hoping to avoid the owner of this property. He wasn't interested in having his own bones added to this collection. The roar was getting louder and it was then that Nico realized that the occupant of the hut had emerged without so much as a sound. The son of Hades gulped and ducked further behind the rock, feeling that his hiding place was inadequate now. The thing that had built this home was a giant.

He was huge and was wearing clothing made of a pelt that Nico had never seen before. It was shiny and it seemed to be made out of scales. Now that he looked around, the skulls in the yard were consistent with some kind of reptile. The giant stared off into the distance in the direction of the incoming beast. He looked reserved and tired but not at all afraid.

Moments later the foul beast came into view. It was a drakon that was easily bigger than he was. Moments before it reached its target, which luckily appeared to be the giant and not the cowering demigod, the giant moved to meet it. He pulled a tree from the ground-- roots and all-- and used it to pin the drakon into the ground by its open mouth. The monster crumbled to dust, leaving the hide and some bone.

It was exactly like the rest of the skulls around the yard. This had happened before. Perhaps thousands of times. It was a cycle-- a curse. After the giant had found what he needed from the spoils, he retreated back into his hut. Nico didn't wait to be invited in. He snuck past as quietly as he could. He didn't want anything to do with a giant who used entire trees as a weapon.

Once he started walking again, it took him a moment to realize that the wailing had stopped. His stomach sank. How was he supposed to track them down now? Instantly the hopelessness started to push in from all around him and he tried to swallow it down. All he needed was a little hope-- a lead of some kind. Then it started again. The relative peace of the crackling of the shards settling to the ear-splitting wails nearly gave him whiplash. Nico continued on his way towards the wailing-- feeling confident that he wasn't too far away now.

Finally, when he thought that he was going to tear out his eardrums because of the sound he spotted a squatting form in the distance. That was the source of the wailing-- he was certain of it. He had to approach with caution. It could be a trap. Nico inched forward bit by bit. The being wasn't facing him and Nico took a little bit of comfort in that. That is until it stopped screaming. Nico froze in his tracks, suddenly very aware of how unprepared he was for a fight. His hand flew to his hidden sword and he quietly shifted into a better stance for fighting.

"Hello, dear miserable one. I've been calling for you." The form rasped before turning slowly, pivoting its entire body around on her podex rather than standing. When the form was facing him, he could see why. He wasn't sure that she even could stand. The woman before him was an empty shell of a person. Hollow, sunken, bony, and ugly- crying. She held a weighty shield in her lap that seemed like it should be much too big for her to lift. The shield depicted images of her holding the shield that kept getting smaller and smaller. Nico absently wondered who had made it for her.

Her hair was matted and stringy and her teeth were rotting out as well. Her eyes were red and still leaking tears that streamed down her cheeks and throat unattended. She was filthy and smelled acidic, even at this distance. This woman radiated pure misery. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the one who had been bringing back bad memories, just being in her presence nearly overwhelmed him with dread.

"Who are you?" Nico asked, at last, drawing his sword. He didn't want to be caught unprepared if this woman wasn't as feeble as she appeared.

"I am Akhyls, the goddess of misery. Surely you can sense it. I've never felt a torment quite like yours, young demigod." She said it like a compliment.

"The curse harpies said that you were my only hope." Nico ignored the woman's babble.

"Oh the aria?" she sniffled, "They're right, of course. I can give you what you seek." Nico wasn't really sure what he was seeking at the moment, but he didn't want her to know that. He played along.

"What's the catch?" Nico coughed into his hands and wiped away the blood on his pants. He needed to hurry this up-- he wasn't sure how much time he had left. One of his ribs may have punctured a lung. It could take someone anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours to bleed out and Nico didn't know just how much the ambrosia and firewater were helping. He might have five hours and he might have five minutes.

"Tell me your story. Someone as perfect as you must have a story to share." She gestured to the ground in front of her. Nico didn't have time for this. He also didn't like the idea of getting that close.

"Perfect?" He raised an eyebrow. That was the first time he had ever been described like that before.

"Yes. You are in so much pain. You are lost, alone, cursed, and bound for a painful death. Your misery is delectable. The perfect specimen." Again she gestured to the ground in front of her and this time Nico obeyed. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. He had been told that she was his only hope. Plus, the story sounded harmless enough.

"What do I get in return for this story? I don't have much time--" The hag cut him off.

"No you don't, do you? A shame really. As for what you get in return, I would shield you with my death mist. It would make you undetectable to monsters and would allow you to get to the doors unseen."

"How did you know where I am heading?"

"Come on, dear. What else would a demigod be doing in the pit? Now hurry up, would you?"

"What do you want to know?" He laid his sword across his lap, just in case he were to need it. This being didn't seem to be very threatening, but Nico knew better than to judge a book by its cover. When a monster looked harmless, it was because they didn't need to intimidate you. They had found more efficient ways to dispatch you.

"Everything." So Nico did. Nico told her all about the situation with his mother and Zeus at the hotel. He told her about the lethe and how he couldn't remember much from his childhood. He told the goddess about Bianca's death, his time in the labyrinth, and his problems with his father. He told her everything. It felt really good to get it all off his chest and Akhyls was a good listener.

"So miserable. You're so alone, little one. You've never had a place among your peers and now you've given up the only family you've ever really known." She murmured appreciatively. Nico shuffled uncomfortably.

"So what about this death mist?"

"Well in order for me to give the blessing to you, you have to be close to death. Normally I would just kill you myself, but those curses will do the job for me eventually so there is no need." She seemed somehow pleased by this. Akhyls began to cloak him in swathes of thick inky mists. Once Nico had been shrouded in the death mist, he was ready to get on his way. In this state, his wounds progressed more slowly and the pain was less intense. Maybe this is what dying felt like? Nico supposed he was soon going to find out.

The demigod wasn't happy that he would have to leave so much of his stuff behind. He couldn't carry his backpack anymore because it was too heavy and would sink right through his body, but he was able to keep his sword and his utility belt. With his backpack, he lost everything: rations, weapons, the firewater cup, and everything else that wasn't in his utility belt. This is the cost of victory, he supposed. He just wished that the cost hadn't been so high.

Walking in this form was actually quite difficult and it really slowed down his progress. He didn't have time for this delay. He could feel his energy and strength waning as he continued his march. He hoped Akhyls had pointed him in the right direction. A long time passed before he reached his destination. According to the goddess of misery, the only way to get to the doors was to pass through the mansion of the night. The mansion, of course, would be guarded by Nyx herself and her children and they didn't take kindly to strangers.

Akhyls had advised him to jump into the chasm instead and Nico had to admit that it sounded safer than trying to deal with the primordial darkness herself. How could he best a being that was almost as old as time? All he knew is that there was no way he could defeat her head-on. He needed a go-around.

Nico paused when he got within sight of Nyx's chasm but he didn't dare approach it just yet. He needed a plan. Nico remembered having learned about Nyx and her children at camp but his memory wasn't great. All he knew is that there was one of them that radiated light while the rest were dark and represented a lot of the pain and torment that existed in the world. What could he do against abstract concepts? Bring a flashlight? Maybe he could shadow travel past them. Was that even possible with this mist? Could Nyx prevent him from doing that? Nico wasn't sure, but he knew that either way he needed a distraction of some kind. He approached the chasm-- having absolutely no idea of what he was doing.

"Stop there!" A booming voice came up from the darkness once he got within a few yards of the edge. A woman in a chariot pulled by night horses charged out of the abyss. She was a lot more intimidating than he had expected. When your whip was made of stars and your horses here made of shadows, no one else stood a chance.

"Who goes there?"

"It's me, Nico, grandmother." Nico fibbed on the spot. Then he cursed himself. This was never going to work. He really should have taken Akhlys' advice. Nyx froze and sized him up.

"You are a demigod. My children do not have demigod children."

"One did, my lady." He assured her. Nico was sure that she would smite him down where he stood.

"Children!" She screeched. There was a clamor in the darkness and Nico knew he was dead. She had called in the entire immortal family.

"What is it, mother?" A being Nico couldn't quite see asked.

"Be quiet Aither!" There was some hushed bickering before Nyx lost her temper.

"Enough! Who is responsible for this thing?" Nyx hissed. Nico could sense more than see that he was being observed by the beings in the pit.

"They reek of Akhlys, mother." One voice spoke up.

"That's just the death mist Sophrosyne. Of course, it reeks of her."

"Well, they aren't mine."

"Then whose is he?"

"He smells of death. Geras?" Nico recognized that name. Their domain was old age.

"No."

"Thanatos then?" There was a murmur of discomfort among them. Apparently, Thanatos wasn't all that popular.

"No, no wings. And why would he be here?" Nyx asked, getting involved in the conversation. None of them had thought to ask him yet, which was lucky.

"The arguing continued to intensify. This was just the distraction he needed, now to take advantage of it. Nico inched closer to the edge of the chasm and looked down into it. On the other side of the gorge, just out of reach, was a doorway jutting out from the rock face. He needed to get over there. This may be his only chance. Nico closed his eyes and focused on the mental image of the doorway in his mind. If he missed, he'd end up falling into the nothingness of the abyss. He had to get this right.

"You! Who is your parent? Speak now or I shall cut off your tongue." He could feel Nyx's full attention return to him but he couldn't afford to think about it. The next moment he folded into the shadows and was gone. He cracked open his eyes and found himself on the side of the cliff. He could still hear Nyx screaming in the background. She hadn't detected him yet.

Relief washed over him and he breathed properly for the first time since seeing that Giant. The hallway looked normal enough at first glance. It was a little dark and Victorian, but it wasn't at all what he was expecting. Now he just had to find the other exit. Nico had only taken two steps before it happened. The nice Victorian mansion was suddenly a pulsing, glowing heart. He was inside the heart of Tartarus.

Nico's breath caught in his throat along with a scream. The tissue glowed with the firewater being pumped through it. There were veins everywhere. Each was a different color for each of the different rivers that ran through it. One mistake and he would die one of the most painful deaths possible. Nico dry heaved and clenched his eyes shut tight. He couldn't do this. There was no way he could navigate a primordial's heart. This was asking too much of him. The sensation of that much death was overwhelming. Having his eyes closed seemed to help, but he suspected that it was too late for that to be much help. He had already seen through the veil.

Not only could he see the tissue and the veins that made it inescapably clear that he was inside a being, but he could sense and hear every soul that had been claimed by each of the rivers writhing in eternal torment. He could feel their pain, hear their voices bouncing around in his skull, and his mind's eye was filled with images of horrific acts and deaths. Scarring images that permanently seared themselves into his brain. Just existing in this place was torture.

Nico collapsed under the sheer pressure of it. Too many voices screaming in agony that he couldn't hear himself think, so much sadness and despair that he found himself numbed to his core, and enough heartbreak to kill the goddess of love herself. Nico was no match for a millennia of torment and suffering and these souls would not be ignored.

He managed to crawl a few yards before he collapsed. He was overstimulated. The noise in his mind was impossible to push through and the images interrupted his understanding of his actual physical surroundings. Was he still moving? Did he even have a body anymore? It was all so vivid, close, and real. It was like he was living out a thousand deaths at once. Burnings, hangings, stabbings, floggings, starvation, suffocation, and every form of death Nico had ever seen.

He couldn't withstand these psychological pressures for much longer. He'd rather have been in physical agony. Though he couldn't really tell if he wasn't. Were these all just memories or was his own pain mixed in here as well? Did it matter? Death would be mercy if it ended this pain.

"So, a son of Hades, then." A woman spoke up from a short way away from him. Nico forced himself to crawl further down the veined tunnel away from the threat. It was futile-- Nyx kept up with ease and all he did was wear himself out more.

"I always wondered what my mansion would do to someone like you." She knelt beside him and the demigod barely had enough energy to flinch when she ran a hand through his hair. The action grounded him for an instant before her touch was gone again. For that one fleeting moment, he felt peace before it all came crashing back down around him. It was almost worse than before.

Completely overwhelmed and with no way to alleviate his discomfort, Nico cried and whimpered as his body shook and his brain felt like it was melting from the inside and would come pouring out his ears. There was no fight left in him. He had lost all his senses and his grip on reality was slipping away with each new vision that was thrust to the forefront of his mind. Soon it became impossible to separate his own point of view from the point of view of the spirits and he started seeing the deaths as if they had happened to him firsthand. He was helpless as he felt himself die over and over again.

"Come, there is someone who wants to meet you." Nico faded into darkness.

[I have given you angst!]