This man was stricken with madness.
Hades was familiar with this magic, a particular favorite of Hera’s. She had used it throughout her existence to make men and women alike murderous, including the one before him.
Heracles, a son of Zeus.
It had been years since Hades had looked on his demigod nephew, and it was clear that whatever Hera had done left him drained of humanity.
There was no difference between him and any other monster.
Heracles left the shelter of the gate, dragging a massive club behind him.
Hades shifted out of the hydra’s blood and reached for his sole weapon, the shield. Still, the warrior advanced on him. Seeming to need no time to consider his opponent, he attacked, lifting the club over his head with both hands. Hades dodged the first blow, which rocked the earth as it hit. The second whipped toward his middle, missing only by an inch as Hades jumped back. The third blow was caught by his shield, and as it hit, Hades pushed against it, sending the club flying.
With the man weaponless, Hades reared back and shoved his shield toward Heracles’s neck. He’d hoped to end this fight as quickly as it had begun, but the man was fast and just as strong as Hades. He caught the adamantine shield just before it could reach him, and suddenly they were locked in a battle of push and pull until the shield itself began to bend.
With a growl, Hades shoved against Heracles and lunged to the side. The demigod stumbled forward, shield in hand, while Hades made a mad dash for the club he had flung across the stadium. A roar left Heracles, who tossed the shield. Hades ducked as it flew overhead, lodging in what remained of the concrete arena wall. Before Hades could reach the club, Heracles dove for him, locking onto his ankle with strong hands. Hades stumbled and rolled just as Heracles jerked him toward his body, rearing back to punch his face, but the god caught his fist, hands shaking as he took on the might of the man’s godlike power.
Hades lifted his knee, catching the demigod in the side. It did little to deter him, however, as he continued to raise his fist. This time, Hades could not stop the blow. A burst of pain seemed to explode from behind his eyes.
A second blow brought tears. A third and his nose crunched. Finally, Hades recovered and dodged the fourth attempt, managing to land a harder blow to Heracles’s side, sending him to the ground and giving Hades the upper hand. With their roles reversed, it was Hades’s turn to pummel Heracles.
He got in two blows to the face—one to the eye and one to the mouth that cut the skin on his knuckles to pieces—before he attempted to reach the club again. He barely rose to his feet before he was down once more, his knee hitting the arena floor with a loud quake. He twisted and kicked Heracles in the face, sending him to his back. Hades scrambled once more to reach the club. Gripping it with his bloodied hands, he twisted just in time to be hit with the full force of Heracles’s weight.
They sailed across the arena, Hades landing blow after blow on any part of Heracles’s body that was exposed, until the force of their momentum
broke the concrete wall and stadium like glass, stealing his breath.
The two landed in a pile of rubble. Heracles had the high ground and a host of new weapons in the form of large concrete bricks. He reached for one and brought it down on Hades. All he could do to stop the blow was cross his arms over his face. Upon impact, the concrete turned to dust.
Heracles roared and reached for another.
Hades shifted his knees up and pushed against the ground with his feet, sending Heracles toppling into the rubble beside him. He reached for the nearest rock and attacked. Landing on the demigod with the force of his body weight, Hades aimed for the eye.
The strike did not land as Heracles caught Hades’s wrists, and the two struggled. Still, Hades pushed, a horrible growl escaping his mouth, and he felt almost as mad as Heracles, uncaring that he was about to murder this man. He was beyond anything humane, aside from his motivation to get back to the Underworld to find Persephone warming his bed and the hope that in the aftermath of this fight, he’d have a chance at a forever with her.
A forever Heracles stood in the way of.
Hades’s arms shook, but he felt Heracles’s hold slipping, and then it was done. His grip crumbled, and the rock smashed into the demigod’s face.
And then Hades did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again until his nephew’s features were nothing but bloody pulp, and when he felt as though he had released all his aggression, he tossed the rock aside and rose to his feet, stumbling out of the mess they had made and back into the arena. Once inside, he looked up to Hera again. He could not quite place her expression, but he thought he detected a modicum of shock, though it was washed out by her overpowering anger, present in the set of her jaw.