The Great Eight (Temporary Hiatus)

Chaos 101 II

The beautiful vista of a dam holding up a large body of sparkling water in the early morning is what greeted an elderly man who ignored the redundant view. Favoring his clipboard as he analyzed a myriad of gadgets, do-hickeys, and dials in his routine check of the water pressure. But, unlike his usual days of quiet, a disturbance caused an alarm to sound and for bright red lights to circle in the facility holding point in the middle of the dam. He turned his head in time to witness every pressure gauge quickly falling to zero. The sound of an all out shut down blanketing the space until it was absolutely silent. The elder could only exclaim in shock as he tapped some of the mechanics as if to spark them back to life. However, this was no ordinary shut down ( if there ever was a shut down ) as the clock looming over the room cranked at a stand still. The worker scratched his helmet covered head as his brain whirred at the unusual circumstances.

So, in order to fix the unknown problem, the man stepped out of the room and onto the catwalk over the dam wall to try and get help. Only for his trek to get interrupted. A great shadow, of a wing it seemed, passed over the catwalk and caused the man to flinch at the oncoming threat. A thump was heard near him though, the shadow forgotten as he turned about to face what seemed to be a normal human who was intruding on a ledge over yonder, cloaked in shadow.

"Who are you? What are you doing here!?" The man asked in a derogatory tone as he shakily pointed a finger at the darkly clad man.

"I'm with him." Cronos's dark timbre spoke with a thinly veiled chuckle in his own arrogant tone. Pointing at the now obvious figure hovering in front of the dam, and more specifically near to the worker with a menacing snarl etched on its face. The gigantic beast roared, as it used one of its snake head legs to chomp on the flailing man who desperately called for Cronos's help. If only the tyrannical God had a good sense of morality. Left without help, the Typhus's snake leg pulled the man into the open air as he wailed his final pleas and proceeded to maul him like a new chew toy. The elder stood no chance. When its toy was no longer entertaining, the snake head hissed and flung its deceased prey down into the waters a mile below him. The God merely watching with a blood lusted sneer. Cackling at the Typhus's show with glee.

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Back at New Olympia, Jay and Atlanta were up on a higher ledge. Overlooking another young teenager who dodged and weaved with a fighter's grace around a combat ring that had been set up in the middle of the track Atlanta used in her own proving. His dark violet hair was slicked against his head as if constant abuse with sweat altered its genetic code to allow for the hair to stay that way for the rest of his life. All except for the two pieces at the front that stood up, unruly, in a little 'v'. His face was entitled to an angular jawline, a crooked nose most likely from fights as a younger kid, grey eyes, and an adorable smile. But all this was almost covered up by his bulky, blue sweater over an old white t-shirt. As well as a pair of identical blue sweat shorts with yellow accents, and beat up sandals. At least he wasn't wearing socks with sandals. But the most unusual thing about him, minus the hair color, was the golden brace over his right leg that protected his ankle and lower shin that gleamed in the gym light. The young man grunted and gasped as he faced off against a few jumps around the track.

"Who's he?" Atlanta asked Jay after observing his fighting for a few minutes. A few bandages and other scrapes littering their arms and torsos, evidence of fighting against a literal God and surviving to tell the tale.

"Uh, his name's Archie." Her leader responded as he crossed in arms. A particularly large wrapping decorating his wrist from its sprain when clashing his sword against a giant. But that's old news, is that jealousy on the brunette's face?

"This is my favorite part." An impressive man of equally intimidating stature announced to the room as he held up a remote and pressing a button. His armor on the theme of black with gold accents, paired with his over-the-top muscles. Though, Hercules still held the record there it seems.

As Archie was rounding the corner of the track, the wall around its perimeter spouted beams of red lights which the young lad outmaneuvered with moves reminiscent of Black Widow. Managing to do this feat with an air of gusto before landing in a lowered lunge. To which an ominous hexagon of red light buzzed around the crouched Archie, initiating whirling punching bags that had maces and other chained weapons attached to them. The young male didn't skip a beat as he leapt into action and took them all down with a series of agile jabs and kicks. His overseer observing his understudy, it seems, before looking at the other audience members with a prideful smirk. Jay who noticed, turned his head to the side with a kicked puppy look on his face. Atlanta oblivious, or just exempt from the man's gesture, continued watching with awe on her face at the boy. Who by then, finished up with his tasks and then in a great leap landed at his mentor's feet in yet another crouch after his series of flips to get to him.

"I've seen better." The man said to the warrior in training, his outdated hair style which consisted of two protruding triangles of hair to jut out from the sides of his head distracting and seemingly defying logic. But the moustache on his face, coupled with the menacing looking armor on his body that screamed bloody murder, made everyone ignore the hair catastrophe on his head.

"No way! Who?" Archie waved his arms to the sides in a wide gesture.

"Me!" The grown man scolded back, "And Achilles, your ancestor." Then proceeded to move towards a weapons rack, grabbing a little somethin' somethin' for the boy.

"You know I don't buy that." Archie spoke to the man's back as he crossed his arms with a gusty sigh.

"You know, as a young man Achilles often let himself be ruled by his anger and mistrust. He later regretted it. Don't make the same mistake, Archie." The clown haired man said with a rare occasion of nicety, belying his immortality with personal experiences with the previous hero. Which left Archie to look down and ponder his perspective before being interrupted by the man who acted a complete one-eighty after the vulnerable moment and tossed a weapon at the boy. Because why not? "Congratulations! You win a prize!"

A red handle was placed in Archie's hands, looking like a fancy handle bar of a motorcycle, that when pressed had a flexible metal spring from inside the contraption. "Huh? A dog leash?" Archie asked with a let down face.

"It's a Hephaestus whip." The giant man next to him explained, the pieces coming together and creating the image of the War God with his expertise on weapons and curt mannerisms.

"Hephaestus?" The young boy leaned ahead and began to test out the weapon in a wide arch with a loud crack, then proceeded to demolish the mechanical punching bags he was up against earlier as the man continued to explain with a gleeful smirk on his face.

"It's made from the thinnest metal ever forged. It slices, it dices, and-" the sounds of a sliced up machine hit the floor in uneven discs from the whip's ministrations, " - it'll cut through anything." Happy at the boy's temperance for violence, the God, Ares, slapped Archie's back with his surplus strength and practically taunted the boy to follow after him like a puppy chasing after a treat.

"Oh ho! I want one of those! When do we get weapons?" Atlanta, from above, exclaimed her envy and excitement and turned to Jay to ask. Who only shrugged noncommittally with a sour look on his face.