"Insolent! Harebrained! FOOL!"
Each word was punctuated with a God's wrath, blows raining down with wild ferocity. Each strike possessed the weight of a mountain, pressing down with every swing of the club held in Herculean hands.
Their target was an unassuming sword made of rock, longer than it was wide and curved in such a way that it held the shape of a blade. It was wide with a dull edge, overtly so, and though there was a handle at the end it would have been more accurate to call it a slab of stone.
Its wielder, a veritable giant with greyed skin, weathered the onslaught with nary a sound.
The God of Strength growled, raising his weapon overhead in a telegraphed motion. A shimmering wave of heat began to emanate from the club, and the air grew thick, charged with divine intent.
"BEGONE!"
A downward swing. The ground exploded.
Shards of earthen debris burst outwards, showering the battlefield in hails of stone and rock. The ground was cratered; fractured as spiderwebs of cracks spread out from the impact zone.
The grey-skinned man stood tall in the crater, bruised but unyielding.
Hercules clicked his tongue. "Why do you protect them, shade? Why do you risk life and limb for Hera's chosen?" He spat the name out with venom, teeth bared like the fangs of a lion. Behind his opponent were those same two demigods sent by the Queen. The ones that had the gall to refuse his quest.
Upon meeting his eyes, their postures tensed. The son of Jupiter hid it well beneath a calm mask and readied stance, but he could see the fear in his gaze. The daughter of Venus, on the other hand, displayed it clearly. Beads of sweat had broken out across her forehead, and the grip she held on her dagger was far too tight.
A large hand shielded them from his stare. He raised his head to face his adversary.
"...They are not responsible for the injustice that befell you."
"They are complicit!" He roared. The ground trembled as he dashed forth, crossing the distance between them in mere moments. With unfathomable ease, his club blurred forth in a horizontal swing.
The man blocked with his sword, but the attempt was off. The full weight of the blow rippled through the weapon, and the man's arms shuddered as he endured the attack. He retaliated with a slash, and Hercules caught it along the shaft of his club.
The strike was powerful, far stronger than anticipated, and Hercules grit his teeth as he was forced to deflect it away at the last moment. The massive cleaver brushed past his head, buffeting his hair with the ensuing wind that followed.
Then he caught a fist to the face.
The God flew backwards, bleeding the momentum off with a roll as he hit the ground and rising back onto his feet without a break in stride.
Idly, he brought his hand to his nose.
And stared at the ichor that stained his fingers.
"Their presence is an affront to me." He growled. "To accommodate them is to accommodate her, and I would sooner relive the Twelve Labours before letting that witch dictate my life again!"
"You are consumed by your emotions."
"And yours have failed you! Your placidity dishonours the memory of our children! Of Megara!" His memories surged forth in crushing waves, remembering a blood-tinted haze of rage and madness that stole all reasoning, and the resulting aftermath of destruction left in its wake.
In his wake.
The man's eyes tightened.
"So you do get it." He smiled. It was not a nice one, sharp and twisted as it was. "Were it not for her, we would have lived in peace. We would have lived carefree lives, growing old with our wife and children."
He clenched his fist.
"But that is not to be, and that damned Goddess is to blame."
"No." The man disagreed. "We might have been able to avoid that specific ending, but we would still have faced another one. Do not forget, it was us that decided to follow Arete over Kakia. Excellence through difficulty, over decadence in passivity."
"And that gives her the right to play with our life? With the lives of our loved ones? No. Cease such naivety. Queen she may be, but she is honourless."
The two met with a flurry of strikes, trading blows with such strength and power that they sent shockwaves echoing in rhythmic continuity. Club to sword, fist to fist, each attack was met and returned with equal force and technique.
Finally, the two weapons struck, carrying the might of their wielders as vessels of their will. Their clash was titanic, radiating waves of pressure that shook the ground and threatened the sky. Neither side hesitated, neither side retreated.
But a vessel can only hold so much before it overflows.
Their weapons blasted out of their hands, with the recoil of their impact sending them flying in opposite directions. The club of Hercules shot through the air like a bullet, disappearing down the mountain they had fought on.
The sword, however, spun off like a buzzsaw, directly into the path of the two demigods. Their eyes widened, but there was little they could do to react in time.
The air cracked like a whip, the sound barrier broke, and the man appeared before the children.
Hercules' eyes widened.
"You...you..."
The sword of stone had lodged itself deep into the man's abdomen, to the point where it nearly bisected him. Blood dribbled out the wound in rivulets of crimson, staining the ground a deep red.
Yet the man remained unfazed.
"Why?" Hercules asked. "You would sacrifice yourself for her?! All because of these children?! You are mortal, you fool! You do not bleed with the ichor of Gods! I know not of how you came to be, shade, but if you do not cease such idiocy then you will perish!"
But the man did something unthinkable.
He laughed.
It was a deep, rumbling chuckle that carried a lightness that Hercules could barely recognise. Too carefree, too unburdened, too...happy.
When was the last time that he himself had laughed like that?
"I am not a God like you are, true." The man smiled. "But that is no matter, for I embody your aspects far better than you currently do."
Hands grasped onto his weapon, slick with his own blood.
"All this time as an immortal has shackled you, Hercules. Time has weathered you, sanded you down to a fraction of what you once were."
With a grunt, he ripped the sword out, blood flowed from the wound without end, yet the man did not care.
"This shall be corrected."
He held the blade aloft, pointing to the sky.
"You have introduced yourself to me, God of Strength, now allow me to do the same."
The two locked eyes.
"I am the scion of Zeus, lord of Olympus."
Thunder rumbled across the skies, as though called to attention.
"I am the student of Chiron, the wisest of centaurs."
The sun had set, and though the stars shined bright, those of one particular constellation appeared to be blinding.
"I am one of the Argonauts. Comrades, allies, and friends."
Waves broke against the foot of the mountain, soaking the air with the scent of sea salt.
"I am the patron of heroes, their stalwart shield and spear."
The demigods behind him watched with rapt attention.
"And above all, I am the son of Alcmene and Amphitryon, for they raised me with love."
The winds blew gently, caressing his hair with almost parental care.
"I am called Hercules to the Romans, and Heracles to the Greeks. My name nothing but a reminder of Hera's anger."
The world stood still.
"But to myself, I am Alcides. I have experienced tragedy, but I am not defined by it."
Hercules stood still as a statue, trapped under eyes that paralysed his very being.
"For so long as I am alive, I shall prevent it. I shall protect."
Alcides of Thebes readied his blade.
"And in time, so shall you."