At first glance, she thought it was Hyperion.

Emilia immediately turned her spear toward him, motioning for Percy and Annabeth to get behind her. Then, Percy stammered out, "Bob!"

She would've figured it out with just another second of staring at this strange figure. Ten feet tall with pure silver eyes and hair, the Titan's muscular form was almost fully concealed by a ripped-up blue janitor's uniform. In his hand was a massive push broom. His name tag read 'BOB' in huge letters.

"How–?" stammered Annabeth.

"Percy called me!" said the janitor happily. "Yes, he did."

"Called you? He– wait. You're Bob? The Bob?"

"Yes!" He seemed so genuinely enthusiastic. "I am Bob, Percy's friend! I heard my name. Upstairs in Hades's palace, nobody calls for Bob unless there is a mess. Bob, sweep up these bones. Bob, mop up these tortured souls. Bob, a zombie exploded in the dining room."

Emilia couldn't have ever imagined a Titan sounding like this. It wasn't just that he was being nice, he sounded almost infantile. "Then I heard my friend call," continued Bob. "Percy said, Bob!"

"That's awesome," said Percy awkwardly. "Seriously. But how did you–"

"Oh, time to talk later." Bob's expression turned serious. "We must go before they find you. They are coming. Yes, indeed."

Emilia didn't like the sound of that. There were no monsters approaching them, so who was he talking about? Bob grinned, "But Bob knows a way. Come on, friends! We will have fun!"

She hadn't exactly had fun the last time she'd been this close to a Titan. She wasn't sure her encounter with Rhea even counted but even then, it hadn't exactly been pleasant.

They followed Bob through the wasteland, tracing the route of the Phlegethon as they approached the storm front of darkness. Ever so often, they stopped for Annabeth and Percy to drink more of its fiery water. They enjoyed it less and less each time, but Emilia supposed it was better that they do this to think less about their pain and hunger.

The pit may not have been harming Emilia, but it wasn't feeding her. As strengthened as she felt, it didn't do anything to stop the rumbling in her belly. She wondered if her mother would be able to provide food for them in the Mansion of Night.

Her mother. How would Eris react to her being there? Could she have anticipated it? Would she be kind or would seeing them make her feel skeptical about her choice to return?

She missed her aunt's cooking. She missed Pollux's inappropriately random comments. She missed Leo's teasing, Piper's soothing voice, Jason's advice, Frank's questions, Hazel's little head tilts.

She especially missed Hylla. It would be so easy to slip back into every negative thought that once chained her like a prisoner. She could revert to pessimism, to always working on her own, to causing harm. She'd become a different person before she even met Hylla, she grew out of bad habits and Emilia had always assumed this was why they managed to meet– she was in a good place in life and as such, attracted good people.

In the past half year that they'd known each other, Hylla reminded Emilia– with only her presence– of how good it felt to think about things in a beautiful light, to imagine success and not failure, to crave warmth instead of bringing cold to every room. Reuniting with her family had made her happy, but more than anything, she looked forward to the flutter in her belly whenever she spoke to Hylla, she looked forward to just getting to stare at her and imagine a life for them.

If anything ever happened to Hylla, Emilia wasn't sure she'd survive it. She trusted she could eventually overcome a breakup, but if Hylla died, it would be over for her, she simply knew it. She'd unleash wrath like nothing she'd ever seen herself do– was Hylla doing the same? Would she lean to the darkness because her light was gone?

Emilia felt a twitch at the tips of her fingers, a terrible thought creeping into her mind. She wanted so badly to get back to Hylla– she'd have to cause real hurt to get them out of here and accomplish that. She remembered Blanca showing her a few episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender throughout the time they'd known each other. The one she was most frightened by was called The Puppet Master, and it involved a water-bender controlling other's bodies by focusing on the water within everyone's blood.

Was that what'd inspired her to control Kelli and the other empousai like that? When they got out of here, would she be able to do it to other monsters without the influence to Tartarus? If so, could she do it to beings other than monsters? Titans? Gods? Demigods?

She tried to imagine how she would have dealt with Chrysaor if she could do that. If she could suddenly make him stop fighting. Leave him vulnerable to be killed. But how? There wasn't enough darkness in him...

Everyone made shadows. Could she use that against them? Shadows followed a person, they replicated every movement. If she took control of their shadow, could she take control of them? Could she even bring herself to do that? Would it be right?

If it could get them out of here, she'd try it. If it would protect her friends, family, and Hylla outside of Tartarus... she wasn't sure she'd hesitate very much.

"So, Bob," said Annabeth after a long road of quiet. Her voice was hoarse from the firewater. "How did you get to Tartarus?"

"I jumped," he said plainly, as if the answer was obvious.

"You jumped into Tartarus... because Percy said your name?"

"He needed me." Those silver eyes gleamed in the darkness. "It is okay. I was tired of sweeping the palace. Come along! We are almost at a rest stop."

What did that even mean? Would there be food and water? Would there be a comfortable place to sleep? A bathroom? What did monsters even do while they rested? Emilia wondered if it would be possible to eat one of them. If not, she would prefer a really good distraction so she couldn't focus on the hungry throb of her tummy or the dark thoughts swirling in her head. The harder she tried to think of Hylla, to think of getting back to her, the harder negative thoughts seemed to try and penetrate.

She stared at Bob, still wary. His blue janitor's coveralls were ripped between the shoulder blades, as if someone had tried to stab him. Cleaning rags stuck out of his pocket. A squirt bottle swung from his belt, the blue liquid inside sloshing hypnotically. He was a Titan... could the effects of the River Lethe last forever? What happened if he remembered who he really was?

Emilia feared that if that happened, she'd be alone going up against him. Percy and Annabeth were in no condition to fight a Titan. She was walking the straightest out of all of them. Even with the hunger, she wasn't physically weak– not yet.

They picked their way across the ashen wasteland as red lightning flashed overhead in the poisonous clouds. They passed a blister in the ground– a writhing, translucent bubble the size of a minivan. Curled inside was the half-formed body of a drakon. Bob speared the blister without a second thought. It burst in a geyser of steaming yellow slime, and the drakon dissolved into nothing.

Bob kept walking like it was nothing. Emilia wondered if Tartarus could sense where every being was remade, if he could tell where the Titans walked, if he knew they were there. This was his domain, he had ultimate control. She might have been strengthened here but if he chose to take that away, could he?

What would happen if they came across her malicious great-uncle? She didn't want to consider it.

"Here," said Bob.

They stopped at the top of a ridge. Below them, in a sheltered depression like a moon crater, stood a ring of broken black marble columns surrounding a dark stone altar.

"Hermes's shrine," explained Bob as Emilia leaned over it, unsure what to make of it.

Percy frowned. "A Hermes shrine in Tartarus?"

Bob laughed in delight. "Yes. It fell from somewhere long ago. Maybe mortal world. Maybe Olympus. Anyway, monsters steer clear. Mostly."

"How did you know it was here?" asked Annabeth.

Bob's smile faded. He got a vacant look in his eyes. "Can't remember."

"No worries," said Emilia quickly, beating Percy to the punch. Annabeth looked like she wanted to punch herself. It scared her to think that Bob knew his way around Tartarus all because he'd been imprisoned here for a long time.

They climbed into the crater and entered the circle of columns. Annabeth collapsed on a broken slab of marble, too exhausted to take another step. Percy stood over her protectively, scanning their surroundings. The inky storm was less than a hundred feet away now, obscuring everything ahead of them.

The crater's rim blocked their view of the wasteland behind. They'd be well hidden here, but if monsters did stumble across them, they would have no warning. Emilia made a mental note to try and stay awake. Either way, she didn't trust Bob to be watching over them. She felt bad for thinking it, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"You said someone was chasing us," ventured Annabeth. "Who?"

Bob swept his broom around the base of the altar, occasionally crouching to study the ground as if looking for something. "They are following, yes. They know you are here. Giants and Titans. The defeated ones. They know." He looked at Emilia. "You, they'll leave alone."

"Why?" asked Emilia, trying not to narrow her eyes at him. She was sure she had a sour and psychopathic expression on her face when she was too anxious to try and look happy. "And if we're being followed, we should keep moving."

"Emilia is of the Pit," said Bob with a light shrug. "None here will hurt Night's family. Besides, mortals need rest. Good place here. Best palace for... oh, long, long way. I will guard you."

"You two sleep," offered Percy, seeing Annabeth and Emilia were skeptical. "I'll keep first watch with Bob."

Bob rumbled in agreement. "Yes, good. When you wake, food should be here!"

Okay, that didn't sound so bad. Annabeth looked sleepily at Percy, "Wake us for second and third watch. Don't be a hero."

He smirked. "Who, me?" He kissed her. "Sleep." He pulled her into his arms, rocking her until she fell asleep– which didn't take very long. Emilia curled up beside Annabeth, wishing for a pillow or a blanket. Maybe that was too much to hope for.

As she shut her eyes, she tried to imagine reaching out to Hylla in a dream. Whether she was just too tired for it, incapable of it, or affected by Tartarus, she wasn't sure– but it didn't work. Concentrating on her face yielded nothing.

Her friends must be so worried. Her aunt must be losing her mind– she might not even dare tell her father or her siblings to not make them anxious, too. Leo, Jason, and Piper might've thought to reach out to Hylla or Pollux– if not both– by now, and surely someone else was trying to reach out to her. They were as unsuccessful as her.

She woke up to the smell of pizza. She sat up, sensing danger nearby. Maybe it was just the re-realization of Bob's presence. "Burnt offerings," explained Percy, distributing food to her and Annabeth. "Sacrifices to Hermes from the mortal world, I guess. They appeared in a cloud of smoke. We've got half a hot dog, some grapes, three slices of pizza with pepperoni and Italian sausage, a plate of roast beef, and a package of peanut M&Ms."

"M&Ms for Bob!" said the Titan happily. "Uh, that okay?"

Emilia shrugged, still feeling a chill down her spine, like they were being watched, like they were being approached. "Sure. I call dibs on the pizza... Pollux and I always eat that." As soon as she took a bite, she sighed, finding it warm and most importantly– familiar.

"I think it is from Camp Half-Blood," said Percy as Annabeth made a face at the roast beef, apparently finding it just as familiar as Emilia did the pizza.

"Peanut M&Ms," mumbled Annabeth. "Connor Stoll always burned a pack for his dad at dinner."

Emilia glanced over at Bob, who was finishing the M&Ms. She had never inhaled food so fast– her pizza was gonealready. "I feel like someone is closing in on us," she admitted nervously.

"Oh, yes," said Bob casually. "Should go now. They will be here in a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" squeaked Annabeth.

"Yes... well, I think minutes." Bob scratched his silvery hair. "Time is hard in Tartarus. Not the same."

Percy crept to the edge of the crater. He peered back the way they'd come. "I don't see anything, but that doesn't mean much. Bob, which giants are we talking about? Which Titans?"

Bob grunted. "Not sure of names. Six, maybe seven. I can sense them."

"Six or seven?" Annabeth looked like she'd be sick. "And can they sense you?"

"Don't know." Bob smiled. "Bob is different! But they can smell demigods. You two smell very strong. Good strong. Like.... Hm... like buttery bread! You smell different." He sniffed in Emilia's direction, "You don't smell like anything special."

"I guess that's better than stinking," mumbled Emilia. "What the hell do we do if the giants reach us?"

Percy was wondering the same thing. "Is it possible to kill a giant in Tartarus? I mean, since we don't have a god to help us?" He looked at Annabeth as if she had an answer.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Traveling in Tartarus, fighting monsters here... it's never been done before. Maybe Bob could help us kill a giant? Maybe a Titan would count as a god? I just don't know."

"Worst case scenario, I can try to call on my mom," mumbled Emilia. "Or Nemesis, if she's really here." They got up quickly, none particularly enthusiastic. Bob started cleaning up, collecting their trash in a little pile, using his squirt bottle to wipe off the altar. She tried to say politely, "Thank you, Bob." He smiled at her, and for a moment she saw Kronos. It took her several seconds to suppress the tremor that ran through her.

"Where to now?" asked Annabeth.

Percy pointed at the stormy wall of darkness. "Bob says that way. Apparently the Doors of Death–"

Annabeth snapped, perhaps unintentionally, "You told him?"

"While you two were asleep," admitted Percy. "Annabeth, Bob can help. We need a guide."

"Bob helps!" the Titan agreed. "Into the Dark Lands. The Doors of Death... hmm, walking straight to them would be bad. Too many monsters gathered there. Even Bob could not sweep that many. They would kill Percy and Annabeth in about two seconds." The Titan frowned. "I think seconds. Time is hard in Tartarus."

"So, the long way?" asked Emilia. "How are we ever going to get to and through the Doors if they'll just sense them?"

"The Death Mist could hide them," offered Bob.

"The what?"

"It is dangerous," said Bob. "But if the lady will give you Death Mist, it might hide you. If we can avoid Night. The lady is very close to Night. That is bad."

"The lady," repeated Percy.

"Yes." Bob pointed ahead of them into the inky blackness. "We should go."

Emilia glanced at the others. "Okay. Let's keep moving."

"Wait." Annabeth looked like she was having an idea. She walked to the pile of trash and picked out a reasonably clean paper napkin. "Bob. Offerings burned in the mortal world appear on this altar, right?"

Bob frowned. "Yes?"

"So what happens if I burn something on the altar here?" He looked unsure. "That's all right. You don't know. Nobody knows, because it's never been done."

"Annabeth?" asked Percy. "You're planning something. You've got that I'm-planning-something look."

"I don't have an I'm-planning-something look."

"Yes, you do," agreed Emilia. Percy offered, "Your eyebrows knit and your lips press together and–"

"Do you have a pen?" she asked.

"You're kidding, right?" He offered Riptide. She pressed on, "Yes, but can you actually write with it?"

"I don't know," said Percy. "Never tried." He uncapped the pen, revealing Riptide. Usually, if he touched the cap to the point of the sword, it'd turn back into a pen.

"What if you touch the cap to the other end of the sword?" theorized Annabeth. "Like where you'd put the cap if you were actually going to write with the pen."

Percy looked doubtful, but did as told. Riptide shrank back into a ballpoint pen, but now the writing point was exposed. Annabeth plucked it from his hand, flattening the napkin against the altar and writing quickly, the ink glowing Celestial bronze.

"What are you doing?" asked Percy.

"Sending a message," said Annabeth. "I just hope Rachel gets it. It's about a dream I had." She finished the note quickly and folded the napkin. On the outside, she wrote: Connor, Give this to Rachel. Not a prank. Don't be a moron. Love, Annabeth. "Now I just need to burn it. Anybody got a match?"

The point of Bob's spear shot from his broom handle. It sparked against the altar and erupted in silvery fire. Annabeth lit the napkin and set it on the altar. It crumbled to ash within a minute.

"We should go now," advised Bob. "Really, really go. Before we are killed."

They moved quickly, making a beeline for the storm front. As soon as they entered, the darkness enveloped around them. The only light came from Riptide and a faint glow around Bob. Emilia could see a path perfectly fine, as well as several moving shapes in the distance, but Annabeth and Percy were at a loss– she had never considered how much of an advantage she had, being able to see in the dark.

Her feet ached. The walk was so long, it was like when they were falling and couldn't tell how much time was passing. What kept her alert was that she was the only one who could see the rocks looming ahead of them, pits that would come up suddenly at their feet. Monstrous roars echoed in the gloom, and she had to check for where she saw or sensed shapes. The terrain was sloping down gradually, a sudden ledge arriving.

Emilia leapt down first, landing over a bouncy surface like a trampoline. The others followed, joining Emilia in staring at a strange membrane bubble in front of them. A fully formed Titan in golden armor, skin the color of polished pennies. His eyes were closed, but he scowled deeply, and heat radiated off of his body.

"Hyperion," muttered Percy. "I hate that guy."

"I thought Grover turned this guy into a maple tree," said Annabeth nervously.

"Yeah," agreed Percy. "Maybe the maple tree died, and he wound up back here?"

"He looks ready to burst out of there," warned Emilia. "We should keep moving..." She trailed off when she saw Bob was completely entranced by the bubble. He studied Hyperion with a frown of concentration– maybe recognition.

Annabeth called gently, "Bob, we should go."

"Gold, not silver," murmured Bob. "But he looks like me."

"Bob," said Percy. "Hey, buddy, over here." The Titan reluctantly turned. "Am I your friend?"

Emilia had never thought of Percy as a manipulative person, but this reminded her of the way she used to talk and be talked to when she hung around the Titan Army. "Yes," Bob replied, sounding dangerously uncertain. "We are friends."

"You know that some monsters are good," said Percy. "And some are bad."

Bob hummed. "Like... the pretty ghost ladies who serve Persephone are good. Exploding zombies are bad."

"Right," said Percy. "And some mortals are good, and some are bad. Well, the same thing is true for Titans." Bob repeated the word to himself cautiously. "That's what you are. Bob the Titan. You're good. You're awesome, in fact. But some Titans are not. This guy here, Hyperion, is full-on bad. He tried to kill me... he tried to kill a lot of people."

Bob blinked his silver eyes. "But he looks... his face is so–"

"He looks like you," agreed Percy. "He's a Titan, like you. But he's not good like you are."

"Bob is good." His fingers tightened on his broom handle. "Yes. there is always at least one good one– monsters, Titans, giants."

Percy grimaced. "Well, I'm not sure about the giants."

"Oh, yes." Bob nodded earnestly, as if he was sure of it.

"We need to keep moving," urged Emilia. "Seriously."

"But what do we do about–?" Annabeth gestured at the bubble.

"Bob," said Percy, "it's your call. Hyperion is your kind. We could leave him alone, but if he wakes up–"

Bob's broom-spear swept into motion. He slashed through the monstrous blister, which burst in a geyser of hot golden mud. Where Hyperion had been, there was nothing but a smoking crater. "Hyperion is a bad Titan," announced Bob, expression grim. "Now he can't hurt my friends. He will have to re-form somewhere else in Tartarus. Hopefully it will take a long time."

The Titan's eyes seemed brighter than usual, as if he were about to cry quicksilver. "Thank you, Bob," said Percy. "We'd better keep going."

He was so calm– too calm. Maybe they were all on the same page without saying it– they would do anything to get out of here.

Would their friends even recognize them if they escaped?

Would they recognize themselves?