Another week passed for Nico Di Angelo, and for him, things rapidly improved. He admitted his crush on Will, now they were dating, he quickly learned how to hide his wings, watching as they transitioned into shadows, then decorated his back as if the darkness were ink. The camp was winding down for the summer, and everything was becoming peaceful and melancholic of the recent summer.

After he'd returned from the Underworld, Will had hunted him down to scold him, even though he had recently been fully healed by the god of healing himself. Nico somehow managed to just talk through a crack in the door, using the natural darkness of his cabin to hide, as well as his lack of a shirt as an excuse for Will not to enter.

Nico gained a new habit of sneaking off into the woods to train with his new abilities, testing new limitations as well as whatever he gained from Thanatos's blessing. So far, he just had wings that he could make appear and disappear on command, though he had to be careful or his wings would manifest themselves on instinct. He also found out that contacting people though dreams were now much easier than it had been before. Death and Sleep were twins after all.

Will had once caught Nico angrily ranting to Blackjack about how he could fly, and how hard flying was. Not catching any of the contexts, Will had burst out laughing at Nico's frustration and a seemingly offended pegasus. He continuously brought it up to annoy Nico, causing the small Italian to blush almost violently.

Turned out, the gift Thanatos had left him was a phone... iPod?... something like that... reminiscent of the god's own Ipad, but smaller. After shouting at the device all night long when he struggled to use the 21st-century technology, he discovered it contained a list of names, all spirits who had escaped from the Fields of Punishment. It could also call and text, but no demigods he knew had a phone so he wrote of that feature as practically useless. Every few days, a notification would pop up, giving Nico a name and location, sometimes even a picture of who he was supposed to find. Sometimes, it was a few names all at once.

That, actually, was what Nico was currently up to in the middle of the Brooklyn industrial area. He was having a fun, merry time hunting the souls of the damned. Apparently, a group had escaped together and were hiding out in this particular warehouse, and he was supposed to send every one of them back to the Fields of Punishment. Nico fully knew what to expect of a "group", and had packed some medical supplies just in case.

Nico was careful as he slunk through the shadows around the warehouse, masked in darkness, further hidden by the black in his outfit, near impossible to spot unless he was what someone was looking for. He still made it a point to look as inconspicuous as he could, hiding his sword in the shadows and not dressed in anything too unusual, nothing that would make him stand apart from the crowd in New York without the aid of the Mist.

Something inside him shifted, a sense of wrongness centered around whoever was inside of the warehouse, a feeling Nico increasingly began to associate with this type of "errand". A wrongness of not belonging among the living, a twisted sense of knowing where someone was meant to be, a stench of undeath, and the flames of the Fields of Punishment. Nico had always been able to tell if someone didn't belong, if they were a ghost, spirit, or escapee of the underworld, or had even been there recently, but since his blessing from Thanatos and Hades, it was magnified tenfold to the point where Nico swore it was almost visible. He could pick out a lost soul in a panicked mob like they were highlighted and trace them through the maze of the Labyrinth itself if he had too.

Nico looked towards the obvious entrance, the front door, and immediately dismissed it. He felt through the shadows of the building inside and slipped into them, shadow-traveling a short distance to the other side of the wall inside of the warehouse. He gripped his sword and brought it out with him into his hiding spot and the shadows in his particular area grew a bit denser and darker.

There were four of them, each looking both lost and out of place except for one, the leader, who appeared to have recently left from a sort of 1800s movie set, dressed in a fashion reminiscent of the American colonies. According to Nico's common sense, obviously, the most ridiculously dressed one was the leader, ordering the other men to "affirm themselves in their actions, befitting of men meant to rule." Instead of bickering children, like they were currently acting like.

"You said we were going to reclaim what is ours! Not appear in some estranged land filled with glowing windows! This is not our home! You lie, Marcus!" One of the men argued, a thick southern accent and drawl making his words hard to interpret.

"Instead you've led us straight to the devil's enterprises! I want to be rich, not wherever we are now!" Another complained, having the guise of a rich capitalist during the Gilded Age.

Nico quickly grew tired of their bickering when he decided they weren't actually a threat. The last one had yet to speak, but even he seemed board of all the fussing.

"If you're so desperately lost, may I be of assistance in leading you to your destination." Nico offered, stepping out of the shadows and gesturing with his free hand while he spoke. His sword still stuck to the shadows, making it much more difficult to perceive.

They jumped, some more visibly than others, the businessman being the first to recover, "Boy..." he snarled, "what do you think you can offer us?"

"Sir," Nico replied, feigning innocence, "I am but a humble guide, I only offer to lead you to your rightful place."

Seemingly satisfied, the businessman approached closer, "well then, boy" he spat the word, "lead us to our thrones."

Nico had never seen a man that resembled a smug pig so much before in his life. The other three hung back, and Nico decided they were the smart ones, the second one to speak moved just a bit closer to get a look at Nico, and Mr. Colonial was squinting, very confused.

"But sir," Nico said, dropping his act of innocence, "you know damn well there is no throne where you're going."

Before Mr. Pig could react, Nico slashed his sword forward, clean through the man like he was made of mist. His form blurred and vanished, dissolving. Cover now intentionally broken, Nico sneered at the remaining three, Colonial and Southern shocked.

"A demon..." Southern gapped, reaching for the shadow of something he must have worn in life, probably a cross.

Nico dashed forward, sword shifting in front of him as he charged Colonial, who began to panic, words struggling to fall out of his mouth, fragments of promises of wealth and power.

"You can't deal with fate and death, especially once you have cheated them once. May your tormented souls return to where they belong," Nico growled, and Colonial vanished into mist as well.

Southern began reciting something out of the bible, trying to ward Nico off with holy words, and he was thoroughly unamused and thrust his sword forward as he sprinted and ran through Southern. To anyone else, they might have seen him as utterly ruthless and heartless for how easily he dispatched them, but Nico knew there was no forgiveness for those who fled from the Fields of Punishment, only a worse fate awaited them when they returned.

With the other three gone, Nico got a good look at the final man and understood something.

"Normally, people do something when their comrade is sent back to hell, but not you, huh? Since they were just tagalongs and you actually did everything. They seemed a bit dull to have escaped the Underworld by themselves." Nico yawned.

The final man was in a military uniform and armed, immediately making him a different level threat altogether. The Great War, from what Nico could tell, from Austria. The man drew a saber and glared at Nico, mumbling something in a language Nico was not quite familiar with, but he knew they weren't friendly remarks or a heartfelt apology for attempting to escape death.

"Reaper, I will not let death take me twice, let alone in the form of a child," The soldier spat, letting his blade catch the light before charging at Nico, full of confidence.

"Reaper, huh?" Nico pondered, his sword quickly coming up to block Soldier's strike, chipping the blade of Soldier's weapon against the indestructible stygian iron.

Nico, honestly thought there would be more resistance from a group of escaped spirits, but he could see the smarts this man had clouded over by a mixture of anger and terror. A cruel officer of war used to getting his way from "lesser peoples", but not with Nico. He guessed this group was more dumb luck than anything else, or they let the bigger threats catch the attention while they slipped away. Nico could almost call out each move the man made, each step he took and each swing of his blade, destroying the weapon against his own.

Suddenly the blade shattered, Nico reacting just in time to dodge the spinning end as it spun past his face, leaving a small cut under his eye. In a swift retaliation, Nico "decapitated" the soldier, dark eyes flashing in irritation.

"I think I like that, I guess I'm a reaper now." Nico mused.

Nico rubbed his shoulders as he watched the last soul vanish into a mist, sighing in discontent. He had truly expected more of a fight tonight when he got the notification of four spirits working together to escape, but this was just a letdown. He wondered if he had time to go to McDonald's before Will started to worry. Probably.

Another sense came over Nico, and he glanced around, seeing something undead nearby, frowning. He could only hear the shuttling of rats and whatever else, so he closed his eyes and let his enhanced senses take over, pulling a stygian iron dagger from inside his jacket where it rested with a few other daggers made of different metals.

Overhead, in the rafters, small and unmoving, glancing down. With a flick of his wrist, Nico sent the dagger flying, slamming into the roof with the sound of tearing metal. A small creature fell from above, screeching as it fell roughly two stories and landed onto the ground with a small crack. A rat... a damn rat. Nico sighed, glancing up at his dagger now stuck on the ceiling. With help from the shadows, the dagger vanished and returned to his hand. This only really worked easily with Stygian Iron, so Nico was glad that was the one he threw.

Nico looked at the rat solemnly and annoyed, now a very dead rat. Stuffing his hand into his pockets, he left the way he came, vanishing into the shadows to go get himself an after-work snack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane had been living together now for about a year, with their small, very blue, warlock baby. Magus still did things as he always had as the High Warlock of Brooklyn and now as the Warlock of the council. Alec had constantly been working with Maia and Lily to keep the city in order from little things to borderline turf war scenarios. They also liked to bring him stuff to look into if it was odd or demon-related, in which Alec often got those at the New York Institue involved for battles.

Since he had moved out, and his father had taken up the role of Inquisitor in Idris, Alec had become more independent from them, working on his own to solve problems. Back at the Institue, his mother was getting ready to step down, which Alec assumed meant Jace and Clary were going to eventually become the co-heads.

Currently, Alec was trying to get a report on something suspicious from Lily, who seemed to have just as much of a clue about what she was talking about as he did.

"Either way, Zeke is absolutely freaked out, claiming he saw a reaper." Lily sighed, messing with some of her hair, currently streaked with bright pink.

"A reaper?" Alec questions, trying to piece everything together.

"That's what Zeke said the... thing was? He said he sliced through some strange people and they turned into a black mist, different from demons though. Said he fought like a Nephilim but radiated Death. He was scared shitless when he rushed back." Lily explained again.

"He couldn't be an Endarkened... Zeke is sure the... the person wasn't another vampire or perhaps a warlock?" Alec asked, scribbling some notes down. He could hear Magnus in their room, watching a soap opera, and Max was already asleep for the night. "Do you have a description?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "'Dressed in all black, seemed to be a kid. Wielding a blade similar to a seraph blade, but the opposite, radiating darkness, some stuff about shadows, and this boy vanishing into them. Vampire, probably not, warlock, a lot more likely since he did do some strange magic."

Lily's eyes met his, cold and hard, "Do you think we're dealing with a threat?"

Alec ran his fingers through his hair, it was getting long and he needed Magnus to cut it again. "Depends, I'm going to look into whoever this is and ask Magnus if he's ever seen anything like it before, especially the turning people to mist and shadow magic. As for the blade, I'll look into that myself at the Institute to see if that could give us any clues."

"Well, then I guess I'm done here," Lily stood up and gave Alec a wave and a coy grin, "See ya later," and she dipped out of the door.

Alec looked to his notes, trying to figure this out from the top of his head. Most warlocks he had met and read about were not fighters like this mystery character was, and most definitely didn't fight like Nephilim. Warlocks fought with magic, not swords.

Alec took his notepad with him as he walked towards their bedroom, Magnus dressed up in dark blue silk pajama pants without a shirt, making Alec pause for a moment, forgetting why he came into the room.

"I appreciate the looks, I always will babe, but I know you just had your work face on, interrupting sweet Maribell's confession to the Prince." Magus said, eyes not parting from the TV as it cut to commercial.

He was used to this by now, and it was also one of the many things Alec loved about Magnus. He turned to look at Alec, cat eyes gleaming in returned affection, and the slightest amount of worry.

"Magnus..." Alec sighed, half in exasperation, "Have you ever encountered someone with the ability to manipulate shadows? Vanish into them and the sort. Lily stopped by saying one of her clan members had witnessed, then was attacked by a strange person, a younger boy, who claimed to be Reaper." He explained.

Magnus pondered for a moment, sitting up as Alec sat beside him on the bed, "I've met those who could turn themselves into shadows before. It's a type of magic, difficult to vanish into them, but possible for a warlock. Never fond of the art myself though, very finicky." Magnus got a distant look into his eyes, one Alec recognized when something ancient was brought up, dangerous.

"Though, I've never seen a Reaper. They mostly tie into ancient tales of death and folklore on a global scale. Supposedly, they've been blessed by death. But, I've always assumed that tales of reapers collecting the souls of the dead stemmed from the Wild Hunt." Worry laced Magnus's face, concern, "Whatever you're getting yourself into this time, be careful, please."