1776, New York.
To be honest, Hamilton hadn't meant to punch a freaking cyclops.
Well, he did, buuuut, he didn't know it was actually a cyclops.
Two years had passed, and Alexander had found his place in New York. He was certainly no loyalist, and ready to die for the patriots if it required.
He had also developed just a tiny, eensy, weensy, little bit of spunk, one that some would consider dangerous.
Only nineteen, and just a little rambunctious, he listened to Seabury's speech, a burning opinion already in his head.
Which was why when Seabury tried to protest the Revolution Alex was just about ready to punch him in the face.
Two years in New York had taught him something, if you wanted to accomplish what you wanted, you need to have an edge, and of course, that New Jersey was hell.
He went to King's College now, and years at King's College couldn't have offered him what years at Princeton could have never. At least, in his opinion, he never went to Princeton, due to a certain Bursar with a broken nose.
He had wised up and taken his studies seriously, becoming the best student at, not only King's College, no, Alexander considered himself someone not bound to his past, and the best student in New York.
At first, he considered it, the right thing to say in opposition to this idiotic farmer. How could he possibly refute this man?
The simple answer, was of course his fist.
As Seabury began his walk away from his lecture, Alexander snook up behind him like a ninja. He grabbed onto his rough shoulders and turned him towards him, though he didn't quite expect what he saw.
Seabury was ugly before, but he became worse as he mutated, becoming a snub nosed, completely bald, man. He smelled worse than before, and became much taller than Alexander, at least one foot of the monster loomed over him like a horrible secret.
Alexander chuckled nervously, taking a step back and looking up at the monster.
The creature was familiar, and the advice that Hercules had given a few years ago resounded through his head.
His body trembled with fear of the unknown, and fear of the past. HE had encountered such before as he recalled from his childhood, but someone always stepped in to come and save him.
Right now, he had no one. Yet he didn't want to go down fighting, and so-
He punched.
Aaron Burr was a son of Athena, and he wore that title with pride.
He was cautious, over cautious, and just a tiny bit pretentious, with a dazzling smile he thought enchanted all the ladies.
Today was another, somewhat ordinary day for him. He knew he was to go search for another demigod, one with extraordinary promise as both Chiron and Washington had told him.
His mother had given him a cap that had been enchanted with magic, so that he could follow this said demigod, Alexander Hamilton was the name.
Alexander was special, because he was an unbeliever, just like Aaron was when he found out about his past.
There was a connection that had not been fully established- yet. But Aaron didn't want to truly make the connection, not when Alexander didn't understand the things he understood himself.
He chuckled, under his guise, pulling off his cap and unsheathing his sword. It was an imperial gold sword, one given to him by his father, a legacy of roman descent.
The cyclops grunted and turned over to Aaron, the awful stench falling into his nostrils. Aaron swiped, piercing the ribcage of the monster.
Gray sand fell onto the ground as he attacked, and yet, he didn't die just yet, simply reformed.
Aaron chuckled, more nervously than Alexander had. This fight was about to get much, much more worse.