Die, Cheese!

Nico di Angelo shadow traveled to his father's realm as soon as he received the Iris Message. Hades was in a particularly bad mood today, it seemed. Everyone at camp could feel the god's aura through the IM; he was just that angry. Down in the Underworld, things were shaking. Literally, not figuratively, that is. Throughout hell, stalactites were falling, causing those unlucky enough to have happened to be standing under them to have quite a beating. Needless to say, Kronos was out cold for a week.

As Nico walked into the palace, he was becoming slightly…fearful, for lack of a better word. The palace gate was considerably more graphic than usual, and was it just him, or were there a few more depictions of death on it? He was certainly dreading this meeting.

He could hear is father muttering. "Escape…inevitable…dares to defy ME!" This last word boomed out and resonated throughout the palace. Nico could suddenly hear a considerable increase in volume from the writhing wall of souls behind him.

Then Hades walked into the throne room, in full 50 foot tall glorious underworld glamour god form. Nico could see the red around his father. Hades turned to face his son. Nico almost flinched, his father's eyes were so full of rage, but he held his ground.

"Nico."

There was a pause.

"I have a…mission of sorts for you. Almost…a quest, you could say." The god of death's voice was spilling over in emotion, namely anger and outrage.

"Yes, father?" As these words came spilling out of Nico's mouth, he wondered what could have angered his father this time. Was it that girl's ghost? No, he had returned her soul and filled out the required paperwork two days ago. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake with it, though if he did, it wasn't his fault! It was so complicated and full of unnecessary …but that couldn't have caused his father, who was, in his opinion, the greatest of Olympian dads, to be this angry.

"You see, my son, someone, or should I say many someones, has cheated death. You remember the Tom Riddle incident, do you not?"

"I do, father."

"Well, part of the entity known as whole milk has dared to become immortal without the god's permission, and dares to rename itself cheese. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find whole milk and end its existence as cheese, my son."

"Yes, father. I shall be on my way immediately."

And that, my dear readers, is how our great friend cheese met an early demise through the mystical powers of Nico di Angelo's bottomless rubbish bin of a stomach.