Part Twenty Three

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And we're back from Leo cave. For now, at least.


Oh, the questions that hammered in Nico's brain. Hammered and pounded like little tiny mallets working together to crush his skull from the inside as if it were made of plaster. Could inanimate objects, which technically only existed metaphorically, actually work together to produce such a major feat of destruction?

And then there was the generic, slightly cliché and overly used big mother that hit like a miniature wrecking ball:

Why me?

There he stood, in a pool the too-bright light, flanked by a questionable god of funerals and an alleged ally that had been their enemy just a few minutes ago, as the creepiest son of Death he'd ever met, and probably the only, advanced at them, limping slightly, chuckling at said alleged ally with glee.

He stopped some distance away from the newly-formed trio. "You don't even know who the bastard's godly parent is, do you?" He sighed, as if exasperated by Nico and Walt's lack of knowledge. Jordan flinched. "Ever hear of Phobetor?"

Silence. Slowly, Nico settled in to a sword-dueling posture.

Kai shook his head. "That would be unnecessary. I'm feeding you brainless people with useful knowledge. Be thankful, not murderous."

Nico nearly verbalized an ironic chuckle at that, but stopped himself. He felt Walt and Jordan tense beside him as one.

"All I wanted was to harmlessly harness the powers of that emotional mess of a demigod, maybe play with him a little," he muttered, disgruntled, raising a careless hand in Nico's general direction. "And I get a dumbass betrayal. Should've seen it coming."

"You can stop your babbling," Nico shot at him. "You're boring me."

"Fine." Kai grinned. "Let's fight."

Nico's muscles tightened with anticipation for the first strike. Kai's grin only widened. He indicated his sheathed sword, as if he were about to draw it, but quickly switched directions completely.

At that moment, though no one had noticed the swift movements and advance precautions their foe had made, a glinting blade arced across the air, headed with great aim straight for the palm of Nico's hand, where the dear string of his fate was gripped tight.


Thanks again and again for the reads and votes. COMMENT PLEASE THOUGH. I LIKE COMMENTS.

Shoutout to Kei, a victim and resulted creation of my dissociative identity disorder, or in other words, the otaku third of my soul, who is soon to post his/her/my(?) first works of (fan)fiction, mainly anime-involved (especially Bleach, Death Note, Pokémon and others of the sort).

Rush over to scatter-

Or else I shall punish you with a downpour of FEELS!

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