-Nico-

When I feel myself waking up, I can tell that there is a difference between how grounded I feel now, and how disorientated I was during other times. Before my dreams didn't make sense, they were meaningless and a clashing of colours, sounds and my own memories. Not that they gained any sort of meaning now, but they weren't as uncontrolled and didn't leave me vulnerable to the bombardment of old, painful memories that I had come to terms with.

I take a deep breath before I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is on the far side of the room, cuffs attached to the wall by heavy looking chains. I vaguely remember Jason saying something about meeting people who knew valuable information, but I don't know why we're in a dark, damp basement. If this is an intimidation attempt, it's a poor one. I've seen the Fields of Punishment, for Hades' sake. They need to try a little harder.

I prop myself up on my elbow and look for my friends, hoping they would be nearby.

Thankfully, they weren't far, as it appears we're all in a basic cell. The dim light of the torches that line the wall outside. It's Hazel that I see first, as she's settled on the ground, back against the bed and her head resting on the mattress, hair fanned out around near my knees. She's still asleep so I make a mental note not to move too much, as I assume she is not deeply slumbering.

The next one to catch my eye is Leo, who is sitting and leaning against the bars directly across from my bed, and he is wide-awake. His hands in constant motion fidgeting or making something that I can't properly see, while probably on watch. He meets my eyes and gives me a relieved smile as he tips his head towards the back of the cell, where Jason is.

He's pressed against the cold, stone wall of the basement, eyes closed and upright. I remember him fretting over me while I floated in and out of consciousness, and it's nice to see his face not scrunched up in concern. His hand resting on the backpack at his side, it appears to be Hazel's.

The bag is swollen and I see three hilts poking out from the top of the bag. One, is obviously mine, as it is pitch black leather wrapped around dark metal, the others are Imperial Gold which are Hazel's and Jason's. I could only guess that Leo's utility belt was also in there, I seriously doubted he'd hand that over willingly.

Jason is still pretty bummed out about breaking his old weapon, IVLIVS. He dislikes having to carry around his sword, even if it is in a sheath at his hip, and misses the different ranges it covered. During that talk I merely patted his shoulder and told him all weapons have an end, while secretly praying to Hades that mine doesn't end anytime soon. Getting that thing forged was not an experience I want to repeat anytime soon. Or ever honestly.

Shifting my weight, I manage to get myself up right. When I do I'm surprised by the lacking amount of good ol' nausea. There was still enough to make me woozy, but I didn't feel like fainting or vomiting. Which is a bonus in my books.

I place a hand on Hazel's head and give her hair a ruffle, her eyes shoot open and she gives me a look of completely unamused before it shifts into a more relieved expression.

"I'm glad you're okay! You gave us quite the scare, and there's only so much ambrosia we were willing to risk feeding you." Are the first words out of her mouth, I feel like counting the seconds before Jason wakes and frets as well.

I see Jason squint and shift before he opens his eyes entirely. That took approximately 5 seconds, simply impressive, that's so Hermes-like reaction time. Once again, I'm touched with how concerned he is, Jason is a person I can count on almost entirely. Or so I'm learning to.

"So, what did I miss?" I ask, not quite getting the connection between falling and the dungeon. Which was shallow, not that you need to be a child of Hades to know that. There was a window in the far corner.

Leo immediately jumps into the conversation to dramatically explain the people we encountered (and their shameful dislike for his tacos) and the discovered the existence of "Titian-shifters". Jason gives me a run down of the people they met, their lack of vehicles and they strange equipment they witnessed them using.

"We're only waiting on them to come down and talk to use now." Jason finished his explanation as he sat down on the end of my bed, having woken up enough to stand.

"I hope they bring food down, we had to fork over our other bags to keep them at ease. Hazel used her Misty powers to sneak our weapons in." Leo sighed and flopped his arms. Though, even I could see the tension in how he sat and fidgeted. Same old "covering nervousness with humour" routine. Even if there is some truth to it, if not- I could eat some food right about now.

I wish I could say they magically heard us finishing our conversation and footsteps could be heard, but alas, they were persistent in wanting to make us sweat.

We couldn't even visibly see a guard, I could only assume they were posted outside the dungeon, not they would be negligent enough to leave strangers unattended. Not unless they were severely into underestimation.

About an hour or two later, after Hazel had finally dozed off once again and Leo had finished making something and started something else, had I finally heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Three figures approached the cell in similar clothing, but varying expressions.

One was a person with unidentifiable gender came up and grabbed the bars, they looked at us with such a serious, cold calculating expression that I've only seen on the faces of the Judgement Pavilion in the Underworld. As if they could see into our souls. Their body becomes almost predatory, and I being to doubt if they are human.

Since they approached, I can clearly see their clothes, each identical. Plain white clothes with black straps criss-crossing their bodies, a brown jacket with a crest of a shield overlain by wings of blue and white, and tall black boots. A simplistic uniform, and no bright colours.

"Hange, stand down." Says a bored looking- Holy Hera is he short. Shorter than me, and I'm not exactly the tallest guy in the school yard. Comes from malnutrition and nearly perpetual darkness, so says Will, but he's sixteen and a son of Apollo. Huh.

"Aww~ They didn't even jump." Hange pouts and stands back, towering over their companion. Nope, still can't tell their gender.

At this point, Jason walks up to the cell wall, being diplomatic as possible, I'm sure.

"Hello again, may I ask for your names? You have the advantage knowing ours." Jason asks, hands spread in a non-threatening manner.

The short man, who seems to be in charge, huffs.

"Sure, if you don't mind answering our questions at the same time."

With Jason talking to the short man, my eyes slide over to the third person. He's of average height with a bob of blond hair falling around his face. He stands stiffly and watches us with even more interest than the others. The stiffness appears to come from nerves or something else I can't place. He seems to be about our age. In his hands is a clipboard and a quill.

I pull my eyes away from him just in time to actually listen to Jason as he says, somehow with complete seriousness:

"Well, come on in and make yourselves comfortable. Pardon the mess."