son of hades · riordanverse · necromancy · emo · sarcastic · trauma · loyal · demigod · underworld
The grand Christmas tree from the Hermes cabin glittered with a riot of colored lights, painting shifting patterns across the dining pavilion. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles, cinnamon, and the ever-present campfire smoke that clung to Camp Half-Blood. Waves of laughter rose and fell as demigods traded candy canes, their voices a warm, tangled hum that wrapped around the hall like festive garland. Nico di Angelo sat isolated at the distant end of the Hades table, a solitary dark shape adrift in a bright sea of celebration. He speared a piece of turkey with his fork; the meat was flavorless on his tongue. The nymphs had prepared a feast, yet all he could think of was the underworld—silent, chill, and straightforward. No candy canes, no obligatory cheer, no pretending he…