Eron was no longer just a strategist; he now carried the raw density he had torn from Shazam. He concentrated his magnetism not to repel, but to collapse the air around his fist, creating a point of infinite pressure. When he lunged, the ground beneath him didn't just break; it turned to dust.
Eron's punch struck Hercules' face with the sound of a mountain splitting in half.
The impact generated a shockwave that swept through what remained of the mansion, ripping neighboring trees out by their roots. Hercules—the undefeated, the pillar of Olympus—had his head thrown to the side with a violence that would have snapped the neck of any other god.
There was a second of absolute silence.
A thread of golden blood, the sacred ichor, trickled down Hercules' lip and dripped onto the hot asphalt. He stopped. The world seemed to hold its breath. Hercules reached up to his face, wiping the blood with his thumb, looking at the golden liquid with an expression that shifted from surprise to something far darker.
— Blood... — Hercules whispered, his voice coming out like the growl of a volcano about to erupt. — You made me bleed with my own strength.
Hercules' eyes turned red, not from magic, but from a blind fury that dated back to his twelve labors. He let out a roar that was heard from the beaches of Santa Monica to the Nevada desert. The "hero" aura vanished, giving way to the demigod who, in a fit of madness, had once decimated entire armies.
He charged. It was no longer a technical fight. It was a massacre.
Hercules grabbed Eron by the waist and slammed him into the ground with such force that the asphalt liquefied. Before Eron could fire a bolt, Hercules began delivering sledgehammer blows, one after another, each punch sinking Eron another five meters into the earth's crust.
— YOU! ARE! NOTHING! — Hercules screamed with every impact.
Eron felt his Herculean bones protest, his electrical regeneration struggling to keep his organs in place. The ring on his finger glowed frantically, attempting to create shields that were shattered the millisecond they appeared.
Diana, watching from a nearby hilltop, felt the air pressure rise. Aphrodite's lust within her vibrated with the violence of the display. She saw Eron being crushed, but she also saw the glint of defiance in his eyes.
— He's enjoying it... — Diana whispered, realizing that Eron was absorbing the rhythm of Hercules' fury to understand the limit of that strength.