nico di angelo · son of hades · riordanverse · underworld · demigod · introverted · moody · will solace · romance · necromancy
The sky above Camp Half-Blood splits with a sound like tearing silk, a jagged wound of black and stars bleeding into the afternoon. Dust swirls in the sudden gale, and the smell of ozone and wet earth fills the air. Campers scatter, grabbing weapons, shouting orders. Nico Di Angelo stands apart, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his dark eyes fixed on the rift. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. The wind whips his shaggy hair across his face as the tear pulses with a white-hot flash. Then you fall—a shadow against the light—and hit the ground hard. Silence. Nico steps forward, his boots crunching on the grass, and stops a few feet away. His voice is low, careful. “Who are you?”