Hey guys, I decided to continue (sort of) - Alright, the first chapter is about them contacting camp. I created that oneshot…revolving it around the theme of the Seven contacting Camp Half-Blood. Some of you want me to continue that one and I … might? Anyways, this oneshot is separate. It's based on Nico's freaking awesomeness.

I HAVE NOT FINISHED THIS CHAPTER YET …but I'll finish it in a few hours or tomorrow. I just wanted to post what I had…and leave you guys in suspense filled angst.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

…

"Ghost King." A whispering chilled the twilight mist that covered the deck of the Argo II. Nico stood in the center of the deck, maintaining his usual, casual façade of indifference. He rotated his skull ring around his finger, slowly, so slowly, as if that movement alone soothed him.

The twilight hardly bothered him. He hardly noticed the nearing darkness.

"Ghoooossst kinggg," the whispering taunted the gaunt frame of Nico Di Angelo.

The Argo II drifted through the night sky, slowly inching its way through the smoke colored sky. The rest of the sorrowful Seven gathered in the engine room, repairing an especially necessary piece of machinery - Nico wasn't sure if everyone was needed in the room, or if they all gathered there to give each other moral support. Either way, the still recovering son of Hades was left or maybe even forgotten, on the deck of the Argo ll.

After the disaster – after Percy and Annabeth fell – the Seven began to work with a fierceness unmatched by even the Hephaestus children at Camp Half-Blood. Of course, Nico ended up falling asleep on the deck, only to be awakened by a nightmare. And then to wake up and enter something that looked quite similar to his nightmares.

"Ghost King!" a voice said sharply and quickly. "Ghoooossstt King," it then hummed and hissed tauntingly.

A circle of six hell hounds surrounded Nico, staring at him – silent but deadly. Perched on the backs of these monstrous hounds, sat an assortment of his nightmares. The monsters chanted his name, a chant without rhythm, its only purpose – to taunt the son of Hades.

He stood slouched, slowly twirling his ring. His eyelids hung like curtains, slouched over his exhausted eyes. His pale form, obviously fatigued, but not afraid – the son of Hades quirked his mouth slightly, carrying and expression of near amusement at the sight of the gathering of monsters.

Why would a son of Hades cower at his nightmares?

"Ghoooosstt Kingggg," the voices taunted.

…

"The sphere of all spheres Ladies and Gentlemen!" Leo announced to the rest of the crew members in the engine-room. He performed some apparently complicated action with a jumble of wires, all the while covered in a layer of soot and an oily substance. Hazel stood next to Frank, not performing any task of importance. After a moment of silence and absolute nothingness she cleared her throat, "Leo…was anything supposed to happen?"

The grease-monkey jolted upwards quickly, banging his head on a metal cabinet, all the while swearing profusely in Spanish. "Yes, yes, yes. Something was supposed to happen." And, instead of sitting all the way up, he slumped back down and continued to tinker with the wires. Hazel turned away from the now embarrassed mechanic and glanced at the couple in the corner.

They sat back to back - Jason sat on a cushion, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger; he closed his eyes, in a daze. Piper leaned against his back, her posture perfect, eyes closed. They both appeared to be praying intensely.

Then, Jason's Roman praetor senses kicked in and he jerked upright, eyes wide, and bolted towards the door. Only after he moved did Hazel realize that noises were coming from the deck of the ship.

Hazel and Piper followed quickly after –

"Ghost King!" a voice popped and snapped quickly. "Ghoooosst Kiinnnnnngg," three other voices hissed in resonance.

Hazel watched as her brother stood in the center of a ring of monsters. She shared a glance with Piper, and they both ran forward -

Only to be seized by Dracaena waiting in the shadows – a knife pointed at each of their throats.

…

Jason stood in the hallway outside the engine room and watched as the son of Hades stood calmly in the midst of a huddle of monsters. Before Jason could react, both Hazel and Piper rushed forward. Before Jason could react, both Hazel and Piper were trapped in the arms of a Dracaena, a knife held to their throat. A cackling of mad laughter erupted on the ship.

Jason was calculating the best ways to approach the situation, to save his girlfriend and Hazel, when Nico met his eyes and shook his head. Jason didn't know Nico di Angelo very well. At least, hardly enough to trust him like this – but Nico seemed to expect Jason to trust him. After he shook his head, signaling for Jason to remain still, he looked away continuing to act nonchalant, completely unbothered. He gave Jason no choice but to watch.

Nico stood surprisingly calm, still staring at the lead monster. Almost completely calm. Eerily calm.

A noise sounding far more like a smoker's cough than laughter filled the stillness of the deck. The manticore edged forward, still laughing. "Nico di Angelo."

"Mr. Thorn," Nico said as he nodded politely towards the Manticore, his eyes empty of most emotion. "It's been a while."

"Nico di Angelo!" the Manticore laughed again. "When my patron told me to find you..." he stopped, apparently silenced by another fit of ugly chuckles, "I said to her, 'Gaea, you can't mean Nico! That kid from Westover Hall?'" The Manticore shook his head, smiling, "But she said you were important. That I needed to kill you, that you'd caused too much trouble all ready. After all….no one escapes from Gaea and remains alive."

The Manticore sighed. "But, I know you Nico. I remember you, the wimpy boy from Westover. You won't put up much of a fight."

Nico watched on as the Manticore talked. He began twisting his skull ring, ever so slowly. After the monster finished his speech, he cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes, never breaking his stare with the monster.

"You know Dr. Thorn, that wasn't me," Nico chuckled darkly, "Gods Mr. Manticore, that was a different boy. That was a scrawny, 10 year-old Mythomagic fan - a peppy, annoying little boy obsessed with a mortal card game. That boy thought he was mortal. That boy…had a sister." Nico narrowed his eyes seriously, "That boy wasn't me."

Acting politely confused the Manticore took the bait and asked, "Then who are you exactly Mr. di Angelo?"

"I'm Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades, The Ghost King."