The Legacy of a Demigod

Titans this, Tartarus That

[Y/N's POV]

Y/N wasn't quite dead yet, but he was sick of this whole corpse thing. If never heard the term "death mist" again, it would be too soon.

Now, as they stumbled towards the heart of Tartarus, he kept looking down at his body, wondering how this thing was even his. His arms looked like tanned deer pelt pulled over twigs.

His boney legs seemed to turn into smoke with every step he took. He had learned to move normally now within the mist, kind of, but the shroud still made him feel like he was made of helium. He was concerned that since the death mist had returned it might stick to him forever, even if they did somehow manage to survive Tartarus.

He wasn't exactly eager to spend the rest of his life looking like a zombie. He'd had nightmares the first time he watched Night of the Living Dead, and he wasn't eager for the dreams he'd have after this. He tried to focus on anything else, but there wasn't much else to look at.

Underneath, the ground glistened a sickening purple, pulsing with spiderwebs of gross veins. And in the dim red lights of the blood clouds, Zombie Annabeth looked very much dead.

Even worse, ahead of them, was the most distressing of all. Spread on the horizon was an army of monsters, arai, cyclopes, and more unidentifiable spirits floating above head.

Thousands of them, maybe even tens of thousands, all milling about tirelessly, pressing against each other, jostling for space. It was Disney World but only slightly worse.

Bob led them towards the edge of the army. He made no effort to hide, but it wasn't like it would have helped. Being ten feet tall and silver, he didn't hide well. And roughly thirty yards from the nearest monsters, Bob turned to face Y/N.

"Stay quiet and stay behind me," he advised. "They will not notice you."

"Fingers crossed." Y/N muttered. Up on Bob's shoulder, Small Bob woke up from a nap. He purred heavily and stretched, flashing from calico to skeleton and back to calico. At least he wasn't nervous.

Annabeth examined her own zombie hands. "Bob, if we're invisible... How can you see us? I mean, you're technically, you know..."

"Yes," Bob said. "But we are friends."

"Nyx and her children could see us," Annabeth said. Bob shrugged. "That was in Nyx's realm. That is different."

"Uh... right." Annabeth didn't exactly sound confident, but it was too late to turn back. They didn't have any choice but to try. Y/N stared tiredly at the swarm of horrible monsters. "At least we don't have to worry about bumping into any friends down here." Bob grinned. "Yes, that is good news! Now, let's go. Death is close."

"The Doors of Death are close," Annabeth corrected. "Let's watch the phrasing."

They dove ahead into the crowd. Y/N was shaking so badly from nerves, he was worried the death mist might fall straight off of him. He had seen large hordes of monsters before. He'd taken on armies practically by himself, but this was different.

Whenever he had fought these monsters in the mortal world, Y/N knew there was a purpose. He was defending his home. It gave him a drive no matter how hard things were. Here, he was invading. He didn't belong here.

Some feet away, some empousai tore into a gryphon while others flew around them. An Earthborn and Laistrygonian threw rocks at each other. Y/N didn't know for sure if they were actually fighting or screwing around.

A dark wisp, Y/N guessed it to be an eidolon, seeped into the cyclops and made the monster smack itself in the face, then drifted off to possess some other creature. Annabeth whispered, "Y/N, look."