𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳 [ᕼᑭ ᙭ ᑭᒍO]

XXXIII || "MICHAEL!!!!!"

✿⁠ ♡ ◍⁠ •⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠ ◍ ✧⁠ * 。♡

" You always impress me, Lilith"

"And you never listen to me."

✿⁠ ♡ ◍⁠ •⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠ ◍ ✧⁠ * 。♡

The black grass of the fields of Asphodel had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told them they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above Lilith, it might’ve been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed.

Lilith, Annabeth, Grover, and Percy tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. Lilith couldn’t help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused.

They will come up to her and speak, seemingly to know that she is the Daughter of Night, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering to her, she couldn't just figure out what they were trying to say. Once they realize that Lilith can't understand them, they frown and move away. The dead aren’t scary. They’re just sad.

They crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION

Welcome, Newly Deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines. To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas.

Even from far away, Lilith could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. She could make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the. Underworld.

Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. Lilith could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. This was the place every hero wanted to go. Lilith sighed wistfully.

"That’s what it’s all about," Annabeth said, "That’s the place for heroes."

Lilith thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to the Fields of Asphodel or even the Fields of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.

Just as they were about to move forward, a boy maybe sixteen or seventeen came in the gardens of Elysium.

Lilith froze on spot, her eyes wide in shock as she looked at the boy.