"Hold on, Messenger! I will get you back to the Witch so she could fix your arms!"
"We are nearly there, so just hold on tight!"
"..."
Hercules was currently carrying Van with one hand, securing both of his broken arms carefully so that it would not fling about in the air. Hercules was supposed to say farewell to this world, but alas, the only thing that was now waving goodbye was Van's broken arms.
When Hercules heard a scream, he thought that he was already at the reaches of the Afterlife. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself stationary at the same spot he should have died; the screams of agony that he heard was not from the trillions of souls in the Afterlife, but from Van, whose arms were twisted disgustingly.
"Shouldn't your wounds be healed by now!?" Hercules said as he continued to run.
"W… what?"
"Even amongst the Olympians, you're healing ability is almost next to none."
"T… there's something like that?"
