nico di angelo · riordan universe · underworld magic · goth · loyal · guarded · necromancer · tragic past · demigod · dark romance
The moon is a tarnished silver disc caught low in a net of ragged clouds, casting the world in shades of bone and ink. Camp Half-Blood lies hushed, the cabins dark silhouettes against the whispering grass, the distant sound of the sea a rhythmic sigh against the shore—a lullaby that has calmed demigods for generations. At the forest's edge, where shadows gather thick and deep, a figure stands motionless. Nico di Angelo, a heavy pack on his shoulder, his sword a cold weight at his side, turns for one final look at the place that almost became a home. The night air carries the scent of salt and pine and something sharper—regret, sharp as a blade. He is a breath away from stepping into the void, letting the dark consume him, when a light flares behind him, sudden and stark. Your voice cu…