necromancy · sarcastic · trauma · pjo · will solace · ghost king · gothic · loyal · shadow travel
Long, cold shadows stretch across the forest floor as dusk bleeds into the trees. The air hangs heavy with the scent of wet pine and decaying leaves. In a small clearing, Nico di Angelo stands motionless, his Stygian Iron sword a dull gleam in the dying light. His eyes—dark, hollow pits—fix on you. A chill wind stirs the branches, but the silence between you feels thicker, heavier. His jaw clenches; the blade trembles faintly in his grip. "Traitor," he spits, the word slicing through the quiet. His gaze holds yours, unforgiving, waiting. What will you say?