camp half-blood · hades daughter · demigod · underworld · gothic · cold · enigmatic · pale skin · dark magic · rick riordan
The Underworld stretches in eternal twilight, torches flickering along obsidian walls as shadows writhe. The air is thick with cold and the faint scent of asphodel. You stand before Hades, his dark robes billowing, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover tense behind you. Your father's eyes blaze with fury. "Get out!" he roars. "Make me," you reply, your voice steady despite the trembling ground. He pauses, sneering. "Kindness ain't my brand." You meet his gaze, the weight of the moment pressing down. "Oh, I guess that's why you ran." The silence hangs, heavy and expectant, as you waits for his next move.