Time stopped for Diana in that millisecond. Ares' axe—a mass of black iron and clotted blood—was descending implacably. She felt the breath of death, a coldness that came not from the steel, but from the very essence of the God of War. Her final thought was not of the Island, or her mother, or duty. It was a simple image: Eron's arrogant smile under the moonlight in Rome. She closed her eyes, accepting the end.
Ares let out a guttural laugh, savoring her despair. He lived for that moment—the moment when hope dies in the throat of a warrior.
But the blow never landed.
The axe stopped inches from Diana's neck. Ares frowned beneath his helm of black flames. He strained his arm, divine muscles tensing to the limit, but the weapon was frozen in mid-air, as if encased in invisible cement.
— What...? — Ares growled.
He looked at Diana, who opened her eyes in confusion. Then, he looked up.
Eron remained standing atop the ruined column. His arms were still crossed, his expression one of glacial boredom. But his eyes... they weren't just blue. They were vortices of pure white energy, and the atmosphere around him vibrated in a way Ares had never seen.
Ares tried to pull the axe back, but the weapon wouldn't budge. He felt an oppressive force—not just on the metal, but on the very iron within his divine blood.
— Magnetism...? — Ares whispered, the realization hitting him like a punch. — No... electric fields so intense they manipulate the polarity of matter... Zeus never achieved this.
Ares realized, with a chilling dread, that Eron hadn't just absorbed the relics. He had evolved. The power he exuded now wasn't that of a demigod; it was something new, something in a completely different league—a fundamental force of the universe that he shaped to his will.
Eron slowly uncrossed his arms. The movement was simple, but the effect was devastating.
Ares was ripped from the ground as if an invisible hand had snatched him. The axe flew from his hand, being crushed instantly into a ball of twisted metal by the magnetic force Eron controlled.
— I told you — Eron's voice echoed, not like thunder, but like the very vibration of space-time — that the moment the light faded from her eyes... I would descend.
Eron didn't descend; he appeared instantaneously in front of Ares—a manifestation of pure electrical speed.
Eron's first punch wasn't just physical force. It was a plasma impact that shattered Ares' helm, revealing the horrified face of the God of War. The impact sent Ares flying against the fortress wall with such strength that the stone structure collapsed.
Eron gave him no time to breathe. He grabbed Ares by the throat, hoisting him into the air. With his other hand, he began to deliver a sequence of blows meant not just to wound, but to humiliate. Every one of Eron's punches discharged millions of volts directly into Ares' body, searing his divine flesh and overloading his nervous system.
— This — Eron delivered a left hook that broke Ares' jaw — is for the boredom you put me through.
Ares tried to strike back, summoning metal blades from the ground, but Eron merely glanced at them. The swords stopped in mid-air, spun around, and drove themselves into Ares' own arms, controlled by Eron's relentless magnetism.
— And this — Eron grabbed Ares by the hair and slammed his head against what remained of the throne of bones — is for daring to touch what is mine.
Diana, fallen on the ground, watched the scene with a mixture of horror and fascination. She had never seen a God be beaten like that. Eron wasn't fighting; he was torturing a force of nature.
Eron threw Ares to the floor, pinning his chest under his foot. The God of War, once the terror of Europe, now coughed black smoke and golden blood, helpless under the heel of the son of Zeus, who had become something much, much greater.