The sky above Manhattan cracked like broken glass, reality fracturing along lines that shouldn't exist as two separate cosmic battles erupted across dimensions that bled through into mortal perception.
The air itself became a canvas of violence painted in divine fury and primordial chaos.
From the east, golden light blazed like a second sun as Hercules descended as though descending from Olympus itself, his massive frame wrapped in aureate energy that pulsed with the accumulated power of twelve legendary labors. His divine armor gleamed with radiance that turned shadows into vapor, each piece forged from metals that existed only in the realm of heroes and legends.
Muscles that had strangled the Nemean Lion rippled beneath bronzed skin that bore scars from battles against titans and monsters, while his eyes burned with the righteous fury of someone who had never known defeat.
