Wrath "Rise of the Fallen"

“Hercules!” Zeus sprinted across the parade ground toward his fallen son. A gauntlet of lightning enveloped his fist and he summoned all of the rage and panic he felt in seeing harm done to his child. Sparks bristled around Zeus’ eyes, and the Fell Stone on his finger flushed a blue so bright it seemed to change the color of the air around him. His Grace spoke one more time with a flashing image:

Hercules, his son, standing on a hill, hands raised for battle, and beside him, another, His Son, hands raised in invocation.

With a cry of wonder and fear, Zeus threw a straight punch at the charging beast, releasing a thick blue streak coiled with wildly writhing serpents of electricity. It tore open the steed’s underbelly with an explosion of blue fire. Karn sprawled headfirst into the dust, losing his helmet, but was up instantly. Stringy hair framed a jaundiced humanoid face pulsating with veins. His red eyes bulged over a mere suggestion of a nose. He raised his arms and unfurled his wings. “Abomination!” he snarled. “Pitiful, half-breed whelp! I will turn you as easily as I turned all of these pathetic humans!”

Without slowing, Zeus leapt into the air and pummeled the ground with his fist. Thunder so loud it shook dust from the walls as a wave of lightning struck Karn center mass. The Hell duke immediately began flailing at his face and body before bursting into searing blue flame. It wailed horribly, and collapsed in a pool of molten black gore.

Zeus nearly toppled over with fatigue and vertigo as he reached Hercules. “Son!” he yelled. “Can you rise?”

The warrior stirred, rolled over, spit bloody dirt, smiled a bloody smile, and winked at his father. “Ugh,” he said, “that was a decent shot. Yours was clearly superior though.” He stood unsteadily and grabbed his club. The Nemean Lion stared blankly at Zeus from where it protected his son’s head. Hercules barked an order for his men to stand fast and protect the villagers. “Come, Father, let’s stop this pestilence. They, they… took my people.” As if he hadn’t just been knocked halfway across the parade ground by a gigantic winged monster, Hercules waded back into the fray and tore through demons and knocked aside crazed humans on his way through the gate. Zeus, tired as he was, had no choice but to follow.