Suicidal Sneakers, the Edge of Tartarus, and a Date with Hades
The moment they crossed the metal detector, a red alarm began blaring loudly, echoing through the hallways as if announcing a catastrophe. The three sprinted at full speed through the "Fast Death" entrance while hearing the sound of ghostly footsteps and shouted orders from guards running after them. Cerberus barked furiously, a sound like thunder, but he remained seated, exactly as Annabeth had commanded him.
They reached an area full of decaying trees in an instant. They hid inside the hollow, damp center of one of them.
They stayed there for a long while, their heartbeats pounding so loudly it felt like a drum inside their ears. They could hear the dragging footsteps and unsettling murmurs of the guards searching the area, moving branches, kicking stones, and sniffing the air in search of something alive.
All three covered their mouths, trying to make sure not even their breathing could be heard.
When they finally noticed the guards had moved far enough away, they carefully stepped out of the hiding place.
"Your plans are horrible," Grover muttered, glaring at Percy with tired irritation. Percy only shook his hair to hide the guilt.
"Let's keep moving," Annabeth said, wanting to get as far from the place as possible, even though she couldn't help turning her head every time she heard Cerberus' sad howls in the distance. Those cries seemed to affect her more than she wanted to admit.
After walking a bit more, they reached the Fields of Asphodel.
The place was enormous. But not beautiful; it looked like an eternal concert, boring and miserable. Thousands and thousands of souls wandered aimlessly, like a crowd trapped in a show they never wanted to attend. The grass was completely flattened after centuries of being trampled by the dead.
The black trees were dried poplars rising like twisted shadows, creating an even more eerie atmosphere. Above them, the cavern ceiling vanished into darkness, filled with sharp green stalactites that seemed ready to fall at any moment. Some had already fallen, piercing the ground like spears, which did not help anyone feel safer. The dead didn't worry about such things. The living did.
Many spirits approached them, trying to speak, but from their mouths came only shrieks, cracks, and hollow noises, like bones knocking against marble. When the three didn't understand anything, the ghosts frowned and walked away annoyed. Or at least it seemed that way, because their glowing faces didn't show real emotion.
Percy could see two completely different places in the distance.
One was the field of punishment: eternal fire, bubbling lava, souls running while hellhounds chased them endlessly. He could distinguish figures known from myths; among them, Sisyphus, pushing his rock toward the top with his torn body, a torture without end. There were others even worse, barely visible.
The other place was the opposite: an isolated paradise. Beautiful houses from different eras: Roman villas, medieval castles, Greek temples, luminous chapels. Gardens with silver and gold flowers that shone like divine light.
The area was heavily guarded. It was obvious that anyone unworthy would be destroyed instantly just by trying to get close.
Beyond the gardens, Percy spotted three islands bathed in a soft, perfect glow: the Isles of the Blessed, a place reserved for heroes who had been reborn three times… and three times had reached Elysium.
"That's the place for heroes…" Annabeth whispered, silently inspired. Percy felt a small push in his chest as well. Someday…
But they couldn't stay staring. They moved deeper in, where the light dimmed and the darkness thickened.
In the distance rose a massive palace of black obsidian. Above its walls flew a lone figure, moving like a sad bat.
The only Fury that had survived Percy's attack.
"What happened to her sisters? Shouldn't they come back after being killed?" Annabeth asked, confused. She didn't really know how Percy's sword worked.
Percy already suspected it. Seeing the only surviving Fury confirmed it. The black sword did not allow creatures like them to return.
But he wasn't worried. On the contrary, it comforted him. They had attacked him first. And knowing they wouldn't try again… was a relief, both for him and for future demigods who might have been their victims.
Suddenly, a scream from Grover snapped him back.
The satyr was floating in the air, pushed upward by the sneakers he was wearing, before falling harshly to the ground with a painful thud.
"Grover…" Annabeth shouted, confused, as she and Percy ran toward him. "Stop doing stupid things. We have to go to—"
She didn't finish the sentence. The sneakers began flapping their wings again, lifting Grover.
"I'm not doing it! It's not me!" Grover screamed in terror. "Maya! Maya!" he repeated to stop them, but this time it didn't work.
Before he shot off at full speed, Percy grabbed his hand and pulled hard.
"Help!" Grover shrieked, feeling his body being pulled in two different directions.
Even with his superhuman strength, Percy slid slowly across the black sand as the sneakers dragged him like he was on a wakeboard.
"Untie them!" Annabeth shouted as she ran beside Percy, grabbing him by the waist to stop him from sliding further. She only managed to make both get dragged.
"Annabeth… you… untie them," Percy said through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his grip. Grover's sweaty hands made everything more difficult.
Annabeth nodded and let go of Percy, running toward the satyr's feet. The speed was already considerable, so she had to sprint hard to reach them and crouch. She lifted Grover's legs and tugged the laces quickly.
The sneakers loosened and, the moment they were off his feet, shot forward like missiles, releasing all the built-up energy. There was only a flash before they crashed into the wall of a nearby cave.
The wings were smashed, but even so, the sneakers got back up and flew straight into the cave's interior.
Meanwhile, Grover, without the force pulling him forward, flew backward, colliding with Percy and rolling across the sand. Percy fell on his back as well.
"Are you two okay?" Annabeth asked, leaning over them.
"Me? Fine. That was fun," Percy said, standing up with a smile.
As Grover got up, brushing sand from his clothes and hair, and spitting out a bit he had swallowed by accident, he grumbled:
"For me it was not fun at all," he said angrily, looking toward the nearby cave. It was so dark it seemed to swallow the very light.
The three of them looked toward the opening for only an instant. And a single moment was enough to feel emotions they had never experienced before: a foul stench, an indescribable hunger for blood, fleeting images of murder, war, destruction, screams of pain. It was as if the cave were leaking nightmares directly into their minds.
A shiver ran down their spines.
"That cave…" Percy said with a serious expression.
"We should get away from here," Annabeth said immediately. She seemed to recognize the place, or at least sense what it was.
Percy, on the other hand, felt something like a whisper… something calling to him, as if an ancient voice were pulling him toward the darkness. He took one step. Then another.
Annabeth grabbed him and forced him back.
"That's Tartarus, Percy. Don't even think about it," she said sternly.
Percy blinked, as if the fog in his mind suddenly vanished. He shook his head and looked at the cave again, now more aware.
"Yeah… let's get away from here," he said while turning around. Even so, the voice calling him was still there, irritated, almost demanding that he return. Percy ignored it.
A roar came from inside the cave. A colossal, furious roar, as if an ancient creature had realized its prey was escaping. All three turned instinctively.
"What was that?" Grover asked, trembling. "Another pet of Hades?"
Annabeth and Percy looked at each other. They both had the same idea… but neither was willing to say that name out loud. Dionysus had made it clear that names had power.
"Let's just keep going," Percy said, not answering the question. Annabeth nodded solemnly.
Walking toward Hades' castle turned out to be surprisingly easy. They arrived quickly.
They passed through a beautiful and impossible garden, filled with strange flowers, trees of spectral colors, and plants that didn't seem to belong to any natural realm. Some glowed with their own light; others seemed to whisper when they walked by.
The wall displayed carvings depicting historical moments, but all were scenes of death, blood, and the destruction of empires, cities, and modern eras. A reminder that death watches the entire passage of time from a single throne.
The guards were incredibly varied: Greek warriors, Romans, Englishmen, samurai, medieval knights… even modern marines fully armed. Some wore shining armor; others had torn uniforms and bodies joined together in unnatural ways. But none of them stopped the group. They only watched, with empty sockets following each of their steps, as if they had already been warned of their arrival.
Something caught Percy's attention.
It wasn't just that there was no ceiling; after all, down here that wasn't necessary. It was that parts of the castle looked recently destroyed. There were guards cleaning up chunks of stone, placing temporary planks, and preparing materials for fast repairs.
There were marks on the walls. Deep cuts. Some too long, others too clean.
The main door, however, drew even more attention. It was new. Noticeably different from the rest. As if it had been completely replaced. Marines guarded it, carrying missile launchers on their shoulders, though even they looked strange… parts of their bodies stitched together, patches of mismatched skin, torn clothing, as if they had survived something catastrophic.
On the ground, right in front of the door, the cut marks were even more striking. They had tried to cover them with plaster, but the contrast against the marble made them stand out even more. It was clearly a rushed repair.
"Why does this look so familiar?" Percy muttered, staring at the marks.
But before he could analyze further, the door opened with a thunderous crash. A blast of hot air hit them, interrupting all thought.
Percy, Annabeth, and Grover looked at each other before entering cautiously.
Percy widened his eyes with genuine interest. The place was almost identical to his dream… except for the destruction. It looked as if a hurricane made of blades had torn through it. Ghostly workers moved tirelessly, reinforcing columns, placing new stones, patching cracks. It was obvious that this part of the castle had been destroyed very recently.
And on the main seat was Hades.
Sitting. Watching Percy with narrowed eyes.
Hades was enormous, at least three meters tall. His divine presence was crushing. He wore a black silk robe, a crown of braided gold, his skin was pale as the moon, and his jet-black hair fell like a river of darkness. He wasn't as muscular as Ares, but there was something about him… something deeper, more dangerous, more ancient.
His throne was made of fused human bones.
Hades' expression grew more annoyed when he saw Percy. His eyes shifted slightly, inspecting everything around them, as if searching for something… or someone. Then he looked back at Percy.
"I see you came alone," Hades said, his voice making the hearts of all three vibrate. It was as if his mere presence commanded them to kneel.
"Uh… I came with my friends," Percy corrected, glancing at Grover and Annabeth, who couldn't even speak under the weight of the divine aura.
"Yes… you truly are exactly as he described you." Hades looked at him with a mixture of irritation and exhausted patience, as if talking to a very slow turtle. "Do you have something for me, Percy Jackson?" he asked, and his tone made it clear he wanted to get straight to the point. It also made it very clear that Percy's presence was not something he wished to prolong.
Faces seemed to emerge from his tunic, screaming silently. Percy wondered, horrified and curious at the same time, if all his clothing was made of punished souls. And then he thought of something worse: what one must have done in life to end up as Hades' underwear.
Then another thought crossed his mind: wasn't Hades supposed to have hair made of blue underworld fire? That would've been pretty cool.
Hades stared at him, frowning as if he could sense exactly what nonsense Percy was thinking.
"Did you bring my helm or not?" he asked abruptly, cutting off the demigod's thoughts.
"Uh… what helm?" Percy asked, genuinely confused.
"Do you ever understand the people you talk to?" Hades asked, holding back his fury as if it required effort. "He said you would bring the helm. Why didn't you bring it?"
"Because I don't know what helm you're talking about," Percy said with total confusion. "And who is he…? Aaah."
Percy froze on the spot.
The pieces fell together at once.
The destruction of the castle.
The new door.
The deep cuts.
Hades' comment.
The warning in the letter.
And the fact that his master had said he wouldn't accompany him to the Underworld.
"My master… he was already here?" Percy said, eyes wide.
Grover and Annabeth went absolutely still.
And Hades' face darkened with irritation, frustration… and a suppressed fury so great it made the air itself grow heavier.