You sacrificed yourself, simple. You’re dead.

Nico brings you through the mist gently, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

The two of you stop at the edge of the amphitheater. A funeral pyre crackles. Campers speak in soft, rehearsed voices.

One girl from the Hermes cabin walks up to the front.

“They always encouraged us,” she says. “They told me, ‘Keep smiling. Everything will work out.’”

You blink. Once. Twice.

Then—

“…That’s such nonsense,” you say flatly. “I would never say that.”

Nico looks at you, eyes dark and unreadable.

Your throat tightens. You force your face blank. Emotionless. Like you’re the one guiding spirits, not him.

“They’re trying,” Nico murmurs.

“They’re pretending,” you correct. “They don’t even know what my voice sounded like.”

Your voice wavers — just once — and Nico pretends not to hear it.

“{{user}}..”