▬▬▬ CHAPTER TEN ▬▬▬

ONCE ETHAN WAS CERTAIN ESMERELDA and Nico were gone, he did the smartest thing anyone in his position would do: he ran.

No seriously. He noped right out of there. At the broken state he was in, he doubted he could even fend off a fluffy sheep, so running away was his best option of survival.

He still ran the other way of course. He didn't want to lead Ephialtes, Otis, and the Nemean Lion towards Esmerelda and Nico (that would've been counterproductive to his first plan).

"Argh! He's running away! Get him!" He heard Ephialtes order.

He had their attention at least, but other than that he had no idea what else to do. He just kept sprinting along the edge of the River Cocytus. Behind him, the Nemean Lion was roaring. It sounded dangerously close to him, so he pumped his legs faster and hoped the thing wouldn't jump.

And then he saw it. To his left was the jagged black mountain range. Some were short—about the same height as a regular giant—while others were thousands of feet tall. Even better were the amount of bushes and trees that were scattered all over the range. A perfect place to hide.

He craned his neck. The giants were gaining on him, but the Nemean Lion was a lot closer.

He whipped it in the eye, making it flinch back in pain and skid to a stop. He used that chance to dart to the side where the mountain range was. He lashed his whip upwards to the closest tree above him and immediately kicked off the ground.

The whip was able to control it's length so when it decreased, he was zipping into the air like some protagonist in a secret agent movie. He had to cover his head and face with his other arm once he made it to the tree, little branches and leaves striking him. When he was done, he landed on a branch, and hid himself behind the tree.

Except... it wasn't actually a tree. The second his back made contact with the trunk, he immediately felt by a sharp sensation of pain trickling over his back.

What is this...?! He wondered, trying to push himself away but the angle he was standing at, he was stuck leaning against it. He turned his head around to stare at the trunk. Instead of seeing regular tree bark, he saw a prickly onyx black surface.

There were thorns attached to the tree. They were everywhere actually, some as small as micro needles. They must have been laced with poison too, because he could feel his back burning from where the thorns were digging into.

Of course. Of fucking course there wouldn't be normal trees around here. Just like there wouldn't be normal beaches, normal air, or normal water.

He bit the inside of his lip, trying to ignore the stinging pain and focus on the sounds he was hearing. Down below, he could hear the lion snarling to itself, and the twin giants' grumbling along with it. Their voices were pretty far away and muffled, but it was good enough for him to hear it.

"Where did he go?" Otis asked dumbly.

"Weren't you watching, you fool?" Ephialtes said, and Ethan wouldn't be surprised if he was rolling his eyes in annoyance. "He went up. Launched himself right to those mountains over there."

"Oh," Otis mumbled. "Well... did you see where?"

"No," Ephialtes said darkly. "My hair got in the way."

There was a sigh. "I told you we should've stopped by that one store to get a hair tie—"

"—We're giants you idiot, measly mortal hair ties would break if we used them! Now shut up and help me look for the boy!"

Ethan moved slightly, careful not to fall and topple down the mountain. Certain that the leaves and branches were giving him enough cover, he moved his head around the base of tree and watched the scene.

Ephialtes and Otis were hurrying away from the river and towards the range, but the Nemean Lion didn't follow after them. He watched, cursing under his breath as the damned monster kept prowling around.

Alright, I've got two choices here, he thought to himself. I could go back down and try to sneak past it, or I can try and climb the rest of the mountain and head on over to the other side.

He craned his neck up. The top of the mountain felt miles away from him, and it didn't seem like there would be many things for him to grip on to. He'd most likely lose footing and fall to his death. Which meant his only choice was to try and sneak past the Nemean Lion.

He looked around again. The lion was still there, sniffing out the edges of the lake where he had once stood. The twin giants were nowhere to be found, and hopefully they were far far away and looking for him in a completely wrong location.

As carefully as he could, he climbed down the rocky wall. His back was still burning as if there were hot knives digging into his skin, but he ignored it and focused on the current task. Occasionally he would crane his neck back to see if the lion had spotted him but for now, luck was on his side.

He reached the ground in no time and quietly crept towards the river as swiftly as he could. The lion still hadn't noticed him, and it wasn't even facing his general direction.

I can cross this again, and then hopefully I can catch up with the other two, he strategized.

But the second his shoe meet with the little bits of glass on the beach, a small crunch sound could be heard. He stiffened.

The Nemean Lion whipped around, it's eyes locking with his. Ethan barely had any time to brace himself before the monster began speeding to his direction. It jumped into the air and tackled him down. The second his already battered back met with the glass chips on the ground, he let out a cry of pain.

But his back was the least of his concerns. The lion's back paws were settled on his stomach, it's claws already cutting at his flesh. The claws on his upper paws were trying to swipe at his face, but he brought his arms up to shield himself. As if his situation wasn't already pure shit, right under his head was the River Cocytus.

He could feel the water making contact with his head, and struggled to ignore their miserable whispers while trying to fend the monster off.

"Argh!" He cried out again, feeling it's claws dig deeper into him.

When he saw it open it's mouth to bite at him, he quickly grabbed both of its jaws to hold him back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was stuck now. His legs were too wobbly for him to kick the damn thing off, and he couldn't risk reaching out for his weapon without getting his head bitten. Not that it would do much anyways. The Nemeon Lion's pelt was impenetrable. If he tried to stab it, he'd just end up breaking his sword and probably impaling himself with it instead like what had happened with Kronos back at the last war.

Then an idea came to mind.

He recalled his fight against Étienne. The little sociopath was ready to kill him with a bunch of shrapnel that he telekinetically gathered, but then the attack suddenly stopped. Not only that, but Esmerelda had temporarily lost the ability to use her powers too.

The incident had been in his mind ever since, and it didn't take too long for him to come up with the theory that maybe he did have something to do with it. That maybe he was the one who made their powers disappear for a short amount of time.

It's gotta be because of the imbalance, he reasoned. Étienne had too much power, so he must have unknowingly evened things out between them by taking his powers away (and accidentally extended that to Esmerelda too, sorry babe).

If he could just... do it again with the Nemean Lion, then maybe he could take away it's invulnerability. And if he could do that, then he could do the same with Asterius.

"Ugh...!" He let out a strained groan as the lion pushed it's head closer. He tried to hold it back, his palms bleeding profusely from being pierced with the monster's wickedly sharp teeth.

He tried to tilt his head away, but he was nearly halfway submerged into the River Cocytus. The water was nearly skimming to his eye, nose, and lips at this point.

Let go, the mournful whispers told him. Let yourself go and drift down here. It is much more safer, much more peaceful.

Shut up, he snarked at them. Shut up, shut up, shut up!

He needed to concentrate, but that was hard to do when there were voices whispering in your head to commit suicide while there was a vicious lion already trying to maul you to death.

He clenched his eye shut, ignoring all the pain coursing through his body, the way his arms were beginning to tire out, and the voices trying to coax him to his death.

Balance, he thought. He needed balance. He needed to even the fight. 

His arms were starting to wear out, and the lion's mouth was getting dangerously closer to him. He tried not to focus on how it could easily swallow his head whole.

And then something happened.

The lion's metallic gold fur started to soften. It slowly began to lose it's glimmering sheen. It's stainless steel fangs turned into a dirty bone white, and it's claws turned into a yellowish color rather than it's usual silveriness.

Finally, his powers were working.

With a pained grunt, he pushed the lion back as much as he could, his whole body feeling like it was on fire. But he couldn't give up now. The Nemean Lion had now lost it's impenetrable pelt, giving him a chance to finally kill the damn thing.

He could feel his nails digging into wet gums rather than metallic ones and tightened his grip, ignoring the sharp teeth stabbing into his hands. He forced his arms apart, widening the monsters jaw. The lion stopped trying to kill him and instead tried to escape, but he held on even tighter.

A savage scream escaped his lips as he spread the lion's jaws apart wider and wider. He could see the skin around the monster's mouth start to stretch out so much that it began to tear, golden dust trickling down from the rips. Then he gave it one last harsh push and it's jaws finally ripped apart.

Golden dust rained down on him.

Ethan let out haggard, heavy breaths. His whole body was shaking. He tried to get back on his feet, but he was swaying. When he looked down on himself, all he could see was the tattered ends of his shirt, blood soaking through it and exposing the deep claw marks on his stomach.

There were dark dots spotting his vision, but he couldn't pass out now. In his state, there was a good chance he would never wake up afterwards. He needed to find a way to seal the wounds quickly.

He looked around for his backpack, but the action made his head spin which was not a good sign.

"Stop it," he said to himself, slapping his cheek lightly. He needed to stay conscious. At least long enough to heal himself.

His backpack was nowhere to be found. Maybe one of the giants took it or maybe it fell into the river during one of their fights. Either way, nectar and ambrosia was a no go so he would need to try something else.

The River Phlegethon was miles away at this point, he would just pass out trying to reach it. So the only option he had left was...

I gotta cauterize the wounds, he realized grimly.

Bad news: he had no supplies to start a fire with. The trees weren't trees so he couldn't use it's wood for kindling.

Good news: Tartarus was full of fiery chasms for him to use.

The hard part was getting to them. The closest one was less than a mile away from him which was great and everything, but after everything he had been through, it was getting harder and harder for him to keep walking.

But the worst part... was the fact that Esmerelda wasn't responding to him. He had tried a handful of times to try and summon her, or even scratch out a message on the ground to assure her that he was okay, but nothing happened. Either she was unconscious or...

No. He didn't want to think about that possibility. She wasn't in the greatest of states the last time he saw her, but Nico was with her and Nico would never let anything happen to his mother. She was just asleep or something. That had to be it.

She's just asleep, he tried to tell himself. That's all. Just asleep.

(Because if she was dead, then—)

Before he could finish the dark thought, the ground underneath him suddenly broke way under his weight. He fell down, his body meeting jagged rocks as he collided against the side of a steep hill. He started to roll down, agonized shouts spilling through his lips as the grievous wounds on his stomach worsened and his back began to burn once more.

He landed splat on the ground at last, right on the chest. His head was pounding from the blows he took and his body was screaming for relief that he couldn't grant it.

Slowly, he started to sense an unbearably warm heat coming from in front of him. Judging the loud noises, he was near a body of fire. At least one good thing came from his fall.

Ethan, he could hear a soft voice whisper. It sounded like Esmerelda. Get up. You need to get up. 

Wonderful. He was hearing things now. 

Weakly, he lifted his head. Sure enough, there was a pit of fire just a few meters before him. Exactly what he needed. In an agonizingly slow manner, he forced himself to stand, nearly falling over when a dizzy wave struck him.

Keep going, he could hear Esmerelda encourage as took staggering steps forward.

His face felt like it was on fire the closer he got. Once he was finally just a few feet away from it, he brandished his sword. He would've chosen his knife to do the job, but it secreted a painful poison and he didn't want to accidentally poison himself (he had enough of that from that stupid fake 'tree').

The second the sword shifted in his hands, his arms screamed in protest. They could no longer carry the weapon they had grown so used to carrying. He nearly dropped it, but he held on tightly with both hands and heaved the bronze blade over the fire.

He kept it there for as long as he could before sitting back on the ground. He removed his shirt quickly, and looked down at his stomach. Three claw marks glared back at him, bleeding profusely.

Usually he would clean the wound first, but he literally had nothing to clean it with. Hopefully, his demigod physiology would be enough to protect him from any infections.

Here goes nothing, he thought, bracing himself just before pressing the flat end of the sword against the claw marks.

A wave of unimaginable pain struck him instantly.

"AAAAAAAARRGGGGHHHHHHH!" The most brutal scream cut through his throat. White flashed through his vision as his head was pulled back and for a second, it was as if he could feel nothing.

But then the pain came back not even a second later. It was the worst thing he had ever felt. Worse than when he got stabbed in the abdomen with his own sword, worse than when he got his eye ripped out.

His mouth went dry and his head felt like it was full of cotton, like he had suddenly gone delirious from the pain. His vision slowly came back though, but things were still blurry and every time he strained himself to see clearer, he just grew dizzier.

Dazedly, he weakly lifted up his head to look at what had happened. There was a burn across the length of the claw marks. It was like a charred black at the center, with dark red edges surrounding it. It made him sick just looking at it, but he knew he had to keep going until all of the claw marks were sealed up.

Shakily, he reached out for his sword. He could still feel the heat emitting from it, so he knew he didn't have to put it in the fire again. He grabbed it by the hilt but hesitated to lift it up.

"...I don't want to do this," he heard himself sob out loud, unable to keep the words in his thoughts.

He didn't want to feel that pain again. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle any of this. He just... he just wanted to go home. Be a little boy again with his grandma and grandpa tucking him into bed after a nice bedtime story. Or be back in New York with Esmerelda and Nico. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

He... he should've been graduating this month. He should've been up there with the rest of his annoying classmates, getting his high school diploma, and being a normal teenage boy.

But life wasn't kind, especially not to him. He wasn't a little boy anymore, he wasn't in New York anymore, and he definitely wasn't safe anymore. Fuck, he couldn't even be normal. He was in Tartarus, and if he didn't help himself soon, he was going to end up dying in this hellhole.

Breathing turning heavy once again, he held onto his sword tight... and then reapplied it over his wounds over and over again until he finally blacked out.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

It was absolutely sad that the only time he felt even remotely safe was when he was completely unconscious. And as if his life wasn't already shitty enough, he was even dreaming about Tartarus of all things. No nice peaceful meadows or a field of daisies. Just Hell.

At least he was dreaming of Esmerelda and Nico though (he just wished it was in a more nicer setting).

They were right next to a huge body of water, a lake most likely. It was a weird one though. He could see four different rivers connected to it: the fiery River Phlegethon, the dark River Coctyus, the polluted waters of the River Styx, and lastly, the inky River Lethe. They all merged into the massive lake, creating a weird combination with the different sets of water.

He had never seen the lake before, so the two of them must have managed to get really far while running away for the giants. They looked beaten up, but he was just glad that they were safe.

Esmerelda was passed out on the ground, probably due to exhaustion. Nico's backpack was placed under her head as a makeshift pillow while his oversized brown aviator's jacket was thrown over her to act as a blanket.

Nico was wide awake, pacing around with his sword clenched tightly in his hands. He was probably on night watch, but in Ethan's opinion, the kid needed to rest as well. He looked close to collapsing, and Ethan could tell that the paranoia from all the constant monster attacks were really getting to him. Every little sound got him on edge, his shoulders looked painfully stiff, and his dark eyes would keep darting every which way.

"Just go to sleep, Nico," Ethan tried to call out to him, but this was a dream so of course the kid couldn't actually hear him.

Nico just kept pacing, and pacing, and pacing, and pacing. Ethan wondered if he was just going to end up watching him pace around throughout the entire dream.

Not even a minute later, he heard something. A flapping of wings followed by a distorted chuckle.

He wasn't the only one who heard it. Nico heard it too and immediately snapped his head around to find the source of the sound. He brought his sword up... and then began to walk away.

No, Ethan thought.

"Nico, don't!" He shouted. "Don't follow the noise! Stay with her! Stay with Essie! You need to stick together! NICO!"

His last yell echoed, and then he woke up.

He shot up in an upright position, only to instantly regret it when a burning pain coursed throughout his stomach, a good reminder of the burns he inflicted on himself. He leaned back against his elbows, wincing in pain.

His whole body was hot. He was sweating all over, and he had no idea if it was because of what he had done or the fact that he was laying right next to a pit of fire. Probably both, to be honest.

With a lot of struggle, he slipped his shirt back on and stood up with his sword in his hand. He shifted it back into his earring and placed it in his ear, not wanting to carry it at the moment. He still felt unsteady (or maybe that was just the dizzy spell getting to him), so it took him a while to even make his first steps.

Esmerelda and Nico were at some lake, and they were probably in danger too. He wondered how much time had passed. Was Nico currently following after the noise he heard or was he already in trouble? Nevertheless, he needed to get to them soon.

He walked for what felt like miles and miles down across the length of the River Cocytus. His feet were beginning to ache and his side started to hurt the more he walked. He felt so terribly weak, he didn't think he could make the journey but he had to. He needed to see Esmerelda and Nico again.

But that was easier said than done. After hours of walking, he started to see familiar boils appear over his skin. Angry looking blisters slowly began to form in little patches, and seeing them made his throat hitch.

Fuck. He forgot the effects of the River Phlegethon wouldn't last forever. He needed to go back there fast before he ultimately died. The air here was worse than any air pollution in the world.

Gods fucking dammit! He inwardly cursed, abruptly turning back to River Cocytus to cross it again. Fortunately for him, there was a path of rocks right there for him to walk on.

Come down here, the whispers entered his head whenever his shoe made contact with the water. It's time to rest.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid assholes," he muttered in indignation, giving the rock in front of him a particularly hard kick. Totally unnecessary, but this place was making him lose his mind anyways.

Once he crossed the river, he made a mad dash for the River Phlegethon. If his whole body wasn't breaking down already, it certainly was now. More blisters and boils were forming over his skin and his breathing was becoming heavier—no thanks to him sprinting like his life depended on it (which it kind of did).

If I ever get out of here, I'm never running again, he mentally vowed. I'm going straight to bed and taking a long nap. I don't even care if I gotta pull a Percy and do it for five fucking months straight.

He could see the flames of the River Phlegethon from a distance. It seemed like less than a mile away now, but at this point, he could feel the boils reach his face. They formed under the strap of his eyepatch, which definitely didn't help with the alleviation and only made it hurt even worse.

So close, yet so far.

Before he could get any closer, he saw a massive foot covered in a sequined sandal heading his way. It came at his left, his blind side. He saw it too late and the foot collided with him immediately.

He was thrown in the air, landing harshly on the ground. All the air had been knocked out of him.

"Urk—!" His chest heaved, spurts of blood shooting from his lips. He was pretty sure the hit alone was enough to crack a few ribs.

"There you are!" A familiar voice boomed.

He turned his head to the side and felt a little part of him die on the inside.

It was Asterius. The walking disco ball. The Sephiroth wannabe. Either one suited him.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," the glittering giant went on. "My, my, you don't look so good, son of Nemesis! Where was that cheekiness you used when you spoke to me and my mother? That insolence? I wasn't expecting you to be like this. You look like a battered little boy instead."

"Gods," Ethan groaned as he got back up on his feet, ignoring all the pain coursing throughout him. "Do you ever shut up?"

He brandished his sword, but at that moment his vision went off and he began to sway to the side.

Fuck, he was not in the right condition for a fight. Asterius couldn't have waited until after he drank from the River Phlegethon at least? Talk about a dick move...

Asterius stopped walking, a smug smirk plastered over his shiny face as he observed his opponent. He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"You don't look so good," he noted. "I'm a bit disappointed. I was hoping this would be a fun fight but... at the state you're in, capturing you would be too easy."

"Try me," Ethan challenged.

Remember the plan, he reminded himself. Remove his invulnerability just like you did with the Nemean Lion.

But he was in a less shitty state when he faced that monster, yet he still nearly died. Now, he was even more injured (dying actually thanks to the air), and he was facing a giant with no god to offer him any assistance.

He didn't know if his mother could reach him all the way down here, but he hoped she could hear his prayers and give him whatever help she could extend to him.

Asterius ran for him, the ground shaking underneath his large feet. He didn't have any weapons on him, but it wasn't like he needed it since he was pretty much untouchable. All he really needed to do was grab his enemies and squeeze them to death.

Or kick them like they were soccer balls.

Asterius pulled his leg back to ready another kick, and Ethan dove to the side to evade the next hit, his ribs screaming in protest at the abruptness. When he landed, more blood traveled up his throat for him to cough out which only fueled his desperation to end this fighter as quickly as he could.

Nullifying his diamond-like skin wouldn't be as easy. The first time happened unknowingly, the second time took a lot of concentration, which lasted several minutes at the least. There was no way he could focus on removing Asterius' invulnerability if he was too busy running around the clearing like a headless chicken.

He needed to keep him still. Trap him somehow.

He darted his head around and finally found something to work with. Just a few meters to the right away from the River Phlegethon were a bunch of uneven chasms, separated from each other. Judging from the bright yellow and red glows coming from the edges, all that was underneath them was an endless pit of flames.

He ran towards it. The second he reached the edge of the cliff, he leapt off and landed with a roll on the other side. He was pretty sure he heard a few more loud cracks coming from his poor bones, but the adrenaline was pumping through him so fast that he could hardly feel any of the pain anymore.

He got back up on his feet and kept doing the same thing; running and jumping onto the next chunk of rock, hoping that he wouldn't miscalculate the distance and fall into the fire like a dumbass.

"Hah? Running away, are you? I didn't think you were a coward!" Asterius taunted, chasing after him. He didn't even need to jump to reach over the rocks, his height allowed him to merely walk on them like they were mere stepping stones.

Ethan ran to the edge of the next cliff, only to stumble back when he felt it crack underneath him. He looked down warily. This particular cliff didn't seem as strong as the others, but it managed to hold his weight just fine for now. He was certain that if any more weight was applied on it, it would break off.

This is the perfect spot, he thought, putting his sword away. If he could just get Asterius to come closer, the cliff would break under his weight. He doubted the fire would kill him thanks to his skin, but it would keep him trapped long enough for him to concentrate on nullifying his abilities.

He turned around to face Asterius, and the giant didn't need long to reach him.

"Hey," he greeted him casually while coughing up a few more spurts of blood. "You kept me waiting."

"So this is where you wish to have your final stand?" Asterius sneered, looking around the rocky terrain they were in. It wasn't that big, about the size of a high school pool. It was even smaller for the giant since he was, well, a giant. "And you put your weapon away too! I see how it is, you really crave for death, don't you?"

"Yep," he replied with a false cheeriness that would creep anyone out. "I crave death. I'm dying right now, you see, so you'll only be doing me a favor."

Asterius' lips curled up into a wide, blinding smile. So blinding that Ethan actually had to squint a little and lift up a hand to shade over his eye.

"And what," he chuckled a little. "Makes you think I'll make your death quick?"

The giant moved not even a second later. He ran forward and pulled his foot back like a soccer player about to score, only for the ground under him to break apart. It happened in a matter of seconds. The cliff started to wobble and Asterius' position swayed.

There was a loud sound as the cliff's edge finally broke off.

"Ahhh!" Asterius let out a panicked cry as he lost his footing and went down.

Ethan used this chance to dive for safety. He nearly made it to the safe zone had it not been for the vice grip that snapped itself around his whole calf. He fell to the ground face forward and felt his body get dragged down towards the edge.

"No!" He rasped, his nails digging into the ground to no avail. When he realized all he was doing was making his nails bleed, he hastily scrambled for the poisoned knife strapped to his ankle (the free one, thankfully), and grabbed it just in time for him to fall off the edge.

He stabbed as hard as he could onto the cliffside, but with Asterius' heavy ass dragging him down, it was all fruitless. He looked down, pleading for the giant to either let go of him or find something to grip on because he did not want to burn alive in Tartarus of all places.

Asterius used his free hand and grabbed a fist full of earth, slowing their fall to a stop. So now they were both stuck.

Fuck, Ethan cursed. This was not part of the plan.

"Let go of me," he said, but his voice was trembling and he could feel his throat fill up with blisters from the toxic air.

I'm stuck here, he thought, his heart racing with fear and adrenaline. I need to nullify him now.

"Hah!" Asterius let out a cruel laugh. "And have you escape? I don't think so, son of Nemesis. I cannot get killed by these flames, but you can!"

He tightened his grip on his calf, and Ethan let out a gasp of pain, feeling something snap. His tibia most likely. Asterius made a sharp tug, but it wasn't enough to pry him away from the cliffside. He was trying to scare him instead.

"You can't kill me, remember?" Ethan reminded him through gritted teeth, trying not to show how much pain he was really in. "It was your mother's orders. She told you to capture me alive, not kill me."

Asterius' lips curled into a frown, upset that his threats weren't getting to him.

Come on, come on, Ethan thought desperately. His breathing was getting heavier, and more boils were appearing all over his arms. It was getting harder to keep holding on now.

Asterius made a humming noise as if he was considering what he said. "Mother will not be pleased with me if I were to kill you," he agreed, and he didn't seem to notice how his skin was beginning to loose it's diamond-like quality. The shiny coat of armor he had for skin started to become duller, replaced by a smooth pinkish hue that pigs usually had.

"Exactly," Ethan said to keep him distracted. Once his arms started to change, he would notice what was going on. "So let me go, and then we can both have a good fight back up on the surface. If you beat me, I'll go with you willingly."

The nullification finally reached his shoulders before spreading up to his neck and face, and traveling up the length of his arms. Ethan made sure Asterius' eyes were glued on him instead.

Asterius stared at him critically, before letting out a scoff. "Forget it. A 'good fight' you say, yet I can tell you only have a few minutes to live."

"Actually," Ethan gave him his signature glare. "The only one dying here is you."

He unlodged his knife from the wall and stabbed it deep into Asterius' massive, vulnerable fist.

Asterius let out a scream of pain and surprise. He clearly hadn't been expecting his diamond skin to disappear so suddenly. He released Ethan in shock and let go of the wall, the two of them falling down to the fire below.

But Ethan wasn't going to let himself die so easily. He stabbed his knife into the cliffside once more, dragging it down through the earth until he finally slowed down to a stop.

"AAARGGGGHHHHHH!" He suddenly heard Asterius shout. He looked down, expecting to see him engulfed in flames.

He was seeing something entirely different.

Shadowy black tendrils shot out from either cliffs. Each wrapped themselves around his limbs and neck. They were pulling at him slowly, and it reminded Ethan of the Medieval torture method called 'The Rack' where victims were strapped down and pulled apart. Their shoulders and hips would be separated, and their elbows, knees, wrists, and ankles would be dislocated.

Ethan had never seen something like that happen in real life, so this was kind of interesting for him to witness (albeit confusing since he definitely wasn't the one controlling the shadows).

Asterius let out loud wails in response to the excruciating, the newfound vulnerability of his body only making it ten times worse. Then, there was one final yank, a loud POP! and Asterius burst into a cloud of golden dust.

Ethan watched as the golden dust drifted harmlessly down the roaring flames.

It must have been mom, he figured. His mother was able to use umbrakinesis, so she must have been the one who had done that. The brutality of Asterius' death definitely seemed on point with her sadistic tendencies too.

Nevertheless, he had no time to mull over it. His breathing was more labored than ever, his whole body was aching in pain, blisters and boils were erupting everywhere, and he was internally and externally bleeding.

He crossed through the rocky passage as fast as he could, the adrenaline fading away over time and nearly making him keel over at the amount of pain that suddenly struck him. He had almost forgotten that his calf had completely shattered from Asterius' grip.

Almost there, he thought to himself. His vision was growing blurrier and darker, but he was just a few meters away from the River Phlegethon.

But then he walked by Esmerelda, who had a gaping stab wound on her stomach, and had to backtrack.

He let out a startled scream, scrambling away from her and she faded away from existence.

"E-Essie?" He called out, but she was nowhere to be found.

He put his head in his hands. "I'm going crazy."

He kept on walking, his pace quickening out of desperation, but he swore he saw the familiar faces of the dead haunting him in the corner of his eye.

"Aarrrgh! Go AWAY!" He cried out hoarsely, the metallic taste of blood coating his entire mouth. "None of you are real! Just go away!"

But then voices started to fill his head and every time he opened his eyes, the shadows, the rocks, and even the dark clouds in the air felt larger, more menacing, like monsters waiting to pounce on him.

"Did you really think you could defeat me so easily?" Asterius' acidic whisper hissed in his ears.

Etham whirled around, stumbling on the spot as he tried to look for the bright giant. But everything looked darker, like someone dimmed the lights in Tartarus.

"I killed you, I just killed you—! Gods, just—JUST GET OUT OF MY HEAD—Ack!" He spat out a large amount of blood into his palm, and the sight of it made him grow dizzier.

He was hallucinating. He had to be. None of this was real. None of it.

He just... he just needed to reach the River Phlegethon and everything would be better again.

Almost there, he told himself, his legs becoming weak like jelly.

He reached the ledge and hastily tried to climb down. The last time he was in a slope like this, he ended up rolling all the way down and nearly falling into a fire pit. Usually that would be enough to teach him his lesson, but he was too desperate to move down carefully.

More blisters popped open in his hand and freshly made scrapes joined the other injuries in his knees. His foot slipped off a rock, and he fell down in a rough tumble. He hit the ground, the air leaving his lungs and his head spinning even more than ever.

"Ethan," he heard Alabaster say from somewhere. "Get up. Kronos is asking for you. Don't be late."

"I don't wanna go to him," he blabbered on, barely able to see straight. He swayed on his feet and ended up leaning against the wall he just fell down from. "I just... I didn't mean to, I was just trying t-to—"

No, stop it, he clenched his eye shut. He wasn't on the Princess Andromeda anymore and Alabaster was not here. He was in Tartarus. He was dying. He needed to... to...

"Oh gods, I can't..." He whimpered, his chest heaving up and down like he was about to have a breakdown. "I can't do this, I can't."

He placed his hands over his head, trying to shake off all the intrusive thoughts that were befuddling his mind.

"Stop it," he hissed, at who, he didn't know anymore. He slammed his shoulder against the rocky wall, like he was trying to fight someone away. His head pounded with pain. "JUST—STOP!" He screamed, slamming himself over and over again until more blood was spilling from his lips and his wounds worsened.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, STOP IT! You're killing yourself, STOP IT!

"I can't," he sobbed out loud, blood trickling down from his temple.

Suddenly he couldn't breathe anymore. He fell to his knees, collapsing face first on the ground. He tried to push himself up, but Tartarus had defeated him at last.

Just before he could black out, he could sense several people appear nearby him and hear their hushed voices.

He is dying, one whispered, sounding ancient and evil.

Take him to the River, another one ordered. Have him drink from it, and once he has healed, we shall take him to her.

At this point, Ethan had no idea if he had conjured them up from his mind or if they were actually real. Nor did he care. The last thing he felt was a pair of clawed hands picking him up, and then he blacked out at last.

— author's note —

Whichever one of you guys guessed that Ethan would be the first to break is CORRECT!!! 🥳🥳🥳

I had a lot of fun torturing him in this chapter 🥰

As for the next person to be tortured? I won't even bother with a hint. I'll tell you straight-up.

It's.... Nico! 🤗🥳🥳🥳🥳

I hope you enjoyed this chapter because you will definitely enjoy the next one!

Asterius chasing Ethan down:

Ethan throughout the entire chapter:

Ethan just begging for a minute of happiness: