Apollo figured if he had treated it as a dream, it would stay as one. Much like the prospect that all the Titans had risen and that Tartarus was fallible in containing all things big and evil, like pretty Pandora's box. Or that his Muses never hated him and gone off on their own paths, only acknowledging him through tradition and habit.
It was warming to know, however, that at least his aunt remembered his charming disposition, jolting him back to the present, along with her touch on his hand.
"Really? Do I look that bad?" It was a half-chuckle and a sigh afterwards. One of his hands reached up and rubbed an eye.
"I figured I was the best looking corpse down there though, if you ask me."