Perseus had kept going on for only the sake of his son, focused solely on getting his son back, and destroying whatever stood in his way. He met no resistance as he trekked up the steep incline. After countless hours of wandering upward, he spotted a cave that glowed with a ruddy red light, humming and pulsing before vanishing, a cry of fear and pain resounding through the cave and directly to the ears of our hero. The cries were his sons, there was no doubt. He saw a war chariot lashed securely outside the cave, seeming to float. "ARES!" Perseus cried in anger. "Face me, the one you truly desire to fight! He is not your concern anymore." Perseus was physically and emotionally worn and battered, but only the strength of sheer will (and likely some godly help) kept him from falling all but dead on the spot. He saw no land route to the cave, so he knew he would have to jump the gap that separated him from his hated enemy. Before he accurately judged his likelihood of survival, he broke into a run and leaped with everything he had across the widened gap. He landed on both feet surprisingly easily. He whirled toward the interior of the cave, searching from top to bottom for what he sought so bad. His eyes came to rest on his son, bloodstained and badly beaten. Yet he held a sword made of what could only have been volcanic metal, the heat of the volcano from which it drew power flowing through the blade, and an awe-inspiring shield made of gleaming bronze that seemed to crackle with energy as he shifted it in his hands, gaining a proper grip. But it was his eyes, the eyes of a son he never thought he would see again, that struck fear into the hero's heart. Electyron's eyes were a bright red, with flames bright as if they burned in front of him glowed there. It was not his son anymore.