Chapter Text
Annabeth Chase was bored.
She had been falling for what felt like days now, her initial adrenaline had run out and she was beginning to wonder if there was a bottom to this place. She assumed so since Nico had been down here before, but with how long it had been since she fell... She was kinda hoping there was no bottom.
She knew if there was a bottom that it wasn't going to be a very demigod friendly place. Annabeth wasn't a stranger to fear. With the amount of quests she's been on, some of the monsters she's faced, and having her memory wiped by Hera; fear became a common theme in her life, but now she was downright terrified. She wants nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob, to be held by her mother like she was a normal child instead of a piece of the prophetic puzzle that just needs to serve her role. But unfortunately she couldn't afford to do that.
Ever since she was 12 and Zeus' bolt was stolen, she's had to be strong, be a leader. She can't afford a moment of weakness. She needs to retrieve the bolt, get the golden fleece, hold the sky, navigate the labyrinth, and defeat Kronos who was inside her first crush's body. Just when she thought she was done... Poof. Memory gone and a whole new camp she had to save from being destroyed by 2 giants and a second great prophecy she had to be apart of. Defeating Arachne was one of the most daunting tasks she had ever done, yet she did it. She had accomplished what no child of Athena could do in the past millennia and right when she thought she was able to celebrate her victory she was dragged into the pit.
She had promised Nico she would meet them at the doors of death, but in all honesty she had already resigned herself to death. She didn't feel any hope falling into the pit of eternal damnation, only a heavy sadness. Sad she was going to fail her friends, sad that her life was going to end in such an awful way, and most of all sad that she felt so alone. No one could ever quite relate to her experiences, she was always the one getting the short end of the stick. She had suffered tragedy after tragedy and was forced to keep moving forward. So when the hole she was falling into opened up into the largest cavern she'd ever seen... she accepted she was going to die.
Her brain couldn't comprehend a way that she may live this fall. She would splat on impact and that would be it. She saw one of the underworld rivers under her, it's black water the closest thing to beautiful in the landscape she could see. Even if she wasn't going to land 20 feet away from it, hitting water at this speed would be worse than hitting concrete so Annabeth did the only thing that she could think of... She closed her eyes and waited.
...
What she did not expect was to hear a loud rush of water envelope as if a giant hand reached out and caught her, using the water to slow her down gradually rather than make her go splat. Unfortunately the water was from the river Cocytus, so the newfound hope she felt initially was immediately squeezed out of her as the water invaded her mind, making her feel like life was hopeless. She could hear the souls of the damned speaking to her, telling her life was pointless and nothing but misery. Annabeth couldn't help but agree, her whole life was nothing but terrible and the last of her willpower crumbled as she didn't even try to swim to the surface.
Just as she closed her eyes ready for death, there was a strange force pushing her to the top. Like the water was rejecting her and she was spat out onto the bank. Immediately she yelped as she felt countless glass shards cut and slice her arms and legs. She couldn't believe it.... She was alive. In Tartarus. Where it seemed like everything was designed to hurt and kill, even the air felt horrible on her lungs. There was oxygen thankfully but it felt like inhaling smoke, it was obvious it was not going to be good for her in the long run, but she could think about that later. For the moment she tried to sit up and take a second to think about what her next move was going to be, when she felt a cold metal press against her throat.
Her blood ran cold as she felt the blade dig into her neck slightly, just enough so she knew if she moved she was dead. The assailant slowly walked around her so she could finally see them, and she couldn't believe what she saw. It was a human, or at least someone who looked distinctly human. They were covered head to toe in dried red blood, and judging from the scars all over their body, it was probably their own. She assumed it was a man, but she couldn't make it out. With how dark Tartarus was and their long black hair she couldn't really get a good look at his face, but she could tell from his eyes and his body that he was a fighter. He was wearing what looked like a jacket made out of hellhound fur, he had large baggy shorts on clearly fashioned out of a monster hide, with a belt made of some sort of plant, his feet were covered in makeshift shoes he had clearly stolen from some monsters, they were hilariously mismatched as one was a dark black color and the other a neon yellow and purple. He must have gotten that one recently with how clean it looks, the thought crossed her mind for only a second before she remembered how much danger she was in when she heard him growl. Annabeth froze not wanting to provoke him, she didn't know what he was. He couldn't be a human or a demigod he would have died from the countless monsters that should be lurking down here. Most likely he was a minor deity, but then where did all the red blood come from?
The man suddenly took a step forward, careful to keep his sword in place at her neck ready to kill her in a second if she tried to move, so she held her breath and waited as the man reached out and touched her hair gently. He lifted a small amount to his nose and sniffed. His actions were definitely creeping Annabeth out, but when he pulled back slightly he had a soft smile on his face and he lowered his sword. Annabeth gently raised her hands in a placating gesture, trying to ensure that she meant him no harm. He seemed content with her actions and his sword disappeared in a flash. It seemed to shrink down into a ballpoint pen. "Neat trick" she said calmly. "My name is Annabeth. What's yours?" The man opened his mouth slowly and seemed sad when no sound came out. After a moment he simply flashed her an OK sign and beckoned her to follow him as he took a step away from her.
Annabeth wasn't sure she necessarily trusted this mysterious man. In truth he terrified her, he had an aura of power that surrounded him and his eyes seemed deadly. Annabeth had perfected her own wolf stare with her time under Lupa's care, and yet his was leagues above. She knew she had no hope of beating this man in a fight, especially without her knife, but his eyes seemed so much friendlier now. It was like sniffing her hair made her a friend and no longer a foe. Was it really as simple as that? Or was he leading her into a trap. Sadly she didn't really have much of a choice as he looked at her expectantly wanting her to follow him. She hated not having a plan, but this seemed to be the best she was going to get. She just had to trust this man and pray to all the gods her hair continues to smell nice lest he turn on her.
So without much of another option, she began to follow her green eyed savior.