All along the sandy beach, the dozens of lords stood frozen in horror as they witnessed a truly ghastly sight unfold before them. A monstrous creature, embodying both the terror of the deepest abyss and the magnificence of the gods that reside on Mount Olympus, effortlessly tore apart the once formidable devourer known only as Bakasura. This repugnant asura had gained immense infamy across all realms for his utter mercilessness and lack of discrimination when consuming divine beings, indiscriminately consuming both young gods in their childhood as well as seasoned warriors who had fought in countless battles. His insatiable appetite had led him to devour such a multitude of immortal beings over the course of centuries that he eventually transformed into a truly fallen lord, haunting the nightmares of even the most disobedient young lords who were constantly warned by their elders that any misbehavior or disrespect would draw Bakasura's wrath and they would be dragged, screaming, into his repulsive cave that lay beneath the forbidding mountain.
Yet this time, the demon who had once been vanquished by the great Lord Krishna himself found no reprieve from his never-ending hunger. With his enormous jaws shattered and mangled beyond repair, Bakasura found that there would be no escape from his impending and gruesome fate. Driven as always by an appetite that could never truly be satisfied, the utter fool had once again attempted to conquer an insurmountable feast that would finally prove to be his downfall. The monster's impure blood stained the surroundings as far as the eye could see, rapidly turning the once tranquil and peaceful coastal landscape into a nightmarish tableau that seemed ripped directly from the depths of the underworld itself. Covered from head to toe in the blackened gore and viscera of their now-slain comrade, panic seized the hearts of nearly all the gathered lords, compelling the vast majority to immediately retreat from the gruesome scene as fast as their divine legs could carry them.
However, amidst the fleeing and panicked ranks of the other lords, one solitary figure remained resolute and unwavering - a bold hunter whose bravery perhaps verged on foolhardy. Jaguar, who was universally renowned across his home realm of the Aztecs as their greatest hunter, defied even his own base instincts to withdraw to safety at a prudent distance. With each hugely successful hunt he had embarked upon in the past, Jaguar's immense pride in his skills and self-assurance in his abilities had steadily swelled to perhaps dangerous levels, fostering within himself a perilous delusion that he had been chosen by fate and destiny itself to achieve immortality through his exploits. He had long regarded himself as nearly invincible and possessed of superhuman prowess, attributing his remarkable power solely to the favor of his fair-skinned patron goddess. Yet, in truth, his true prowess and skill lay in an extraordinary natural ability: the uncanny capacity to seamlessly blend in with his surroundings and render himself practically invisible to both prey and observer alike purely through an act of will. Whether stalking within the dense jungles that covered his homeland or traversing the scorching deserts to the north, his lithe body, focused soul, and keen mind seemed to effortlessly meld with the very world around him, transforming him into little more than a shimmering silhouette on the edge of perception that spelled instant doom for whatever adversaries were unlucky enough to fall within the range of his lethal claws. And deep within his insatiable hunter's soul, Jaguar possessed but one true desire burning brighter even than the scorching sun above - to at long last plunge those selfsame claws directly into the malevolent essence of the dread god Tezcatlipoca himself!
*******
The moment had long been foretold by the soothsayers - the instant when Jaguar's razor-sharp claws would pierce the formidable armor and flesh of the mighty warrior who stood defiantly before him. With every single fiber of his enhanced being humming with anticipation, Jaguar could already taste the imminent pleasure and glory of finally devouring the Olympian's rich divine flesh. As the other gathered lords looked on in a mixture of horror, awe, and not a small amount of envy, Jaguar blocked out all distractions and focused solely on his prey.
The usually booming voice of his supposed ally Shango briefly echoed across the beach, vainly attempting to warn Jaguar to retreat to a prudent distance for his own safety. But the renowned hunter of the Aztec jungles paid the other lord's words no heed, lost as he was in the thrill of the imminent kill. Deep within his soul, Jaguar had long believed that Shango secretly envied his unparalleled prowess at hunting and felt threatened by Jaguar eclipsing him in fame and glory. And now, in this climactic moment, the fool had chosen to betray Jaguar, attempting with his words to steal the honor and memory of this most momentous of victories for himself.
"No!" Jaguar whispered fiercely but determinedly to himself, feeling his lithe body suddenly burdened with an overwhelming and unnatural weight that slowed his movements. He briefly turned his head back over his shoulder, catching a fleeting glimpse of a veritable multitude of deadly projectile weapons piercing cleanly through the dense muscles and sinews of his back and limbs. With a wild, primal horror rising within, Jaguar quickly refocused his gaze ahead, desperately hoping against hope that the sight had merely been some cruel figment of his imagination. But, to his utter dismay, a far harsher reality awaited him in the outstretched arms of the Olympian known only as Haemon.
Like a great predatory eagle seizing an unsuspecting rabbit, Haemon seized Jaguar's throat in an impossibly strong grip, squeezing with such immense force that the hunter heard the brittle crunching of bones breaking within his neck. Jaguar's lithe body convulsed violently as the last dregs of life slowly drained from his form. With his final ounce of strength and will, he launched one last relentless assault on the nightmarish warrior, hoping at the very least to leave some small scar upon Haemon's already grotesquely disfigured form as a parting mark of his prowess. Yet even this simple victory and small solace was cruelly denied to the fallen hunter.
The nameless son of the Olympian's deranged father defended himself with a ferocity to match any mother protecting her young. Black, ropy tentacles as thick as tree trunks suddenly sprouted from Haemon's flesh, swiftly tearing both of Jaguar's hands from his wrists in one fluid motion, preventing the renowned hunter of the jungles from inflicting even the slightest harm upon his monstrous adversary.
"Curse you and your entire wretched lineage! You have shattered my destiny and the glory that was rightfully mine, you unnatural chimera spawned from Olympus!" Jaguar somehow found the strength to hiss through shattered teeth and lips stained black with his own blood. In response, Haemon opened his enormous jaws impossibly wide, unleashing a torrent of dark purple flames so hot they seemed to burn with the essence of the abyss itself. The hellish fire consumed Jaguar's broken body in an instant, reducing him to little more than a pile of charred and cracked bones blackened as though a swarm of voracious locusts had descended upon a once fertile field.
Haemon lifted his head towards the sky, a wicked smile spreading across his face, before abruptly throwing it back and devouring the remains of the jaguar and asura in one swift motion. Just as the monstrous attack was about to strike the barbarian, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and vanished, dissipating into thin air.
"How?! How?! How?!" Kuat screamed wildly, his hands clutching at his own hair. His little goat beard underwent a sudden transformation, changing from dark brown to vibrant, shining gold. "So this is what it feels like to be invisible, ha-ha, how amusing," the warrior's voice echoed from all directions, preventing the lords from pinpointing its source. "This abomination has absorbed the power of the jaguar!" Shango swiftly grasped the situation and closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations beneath his bare feet, tapping into a world beyond ordinary sight. "Kuat, behind you!" the shaman shouted, simultaneously conjuring a lightning bolt and hurling it behind his comrade as he sensed movement stirring through the earth. Kuat reacted with agility, leaping backward and tightly gripping the flaming spear in his hands. He swiftly launched it towards the spot where the lightning had struck, and the sound of flesh being pierced reverberated throughout the area. Then, to the astonishment of all, the spear froze mid-air, suspended by an invisible hand. And indeed, that was precisely what it was, as the heated iron had found its mark.
Bright golden flames engulfed the towering figure, once again revealing the Olympian who had vanished mere moments ago. He now stood there, the spear protruding from his chest. A collective sigh of relief escaped the onlookers as they witnessed the scene. It had been proven that the monster could be wounded, and perhaps even killed, provided it hadn't already met its demise. "Ha-ha, I did it!" Kuat shouted, his voice filled with joy. "Damn, I thought our end had come!" exclaimed someone from the crowd. "I even saw your pants change color!" another lord gleefully added, pointing a finger at someone else. "Curse it, Odin! You won't escape with just a Valkyrie! I'll make that old man pay, dearly!" declared the weary blond, his voice brimming with determination as he meticulously tended to his flowing locks.
"I hope you won't forget about us, the slayers of Olympians," Shango remarked, approaching his comrade from behind. The blond retorted with a hint of sarcasm, a smug smile revealing his pearly white teeth. "Oh, did you also contribute to this formidable task?" he jested. "I must be growing old," Kuat innocently scratched his cheek, playing along. Shango rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. The Thunderer was weary, caring little for rewards and trivialities. All he yearned for was to depart from this place and find solace as soon as possible. However, they first needed to ensure their enemy's demise.
"Everyone, attack this monstrosity together!" Shango commanded, pointing towards Haimon's motionless body. "But should we not preserve his remains for Odin?" Kuat raised a skeptical eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have an unsettling feeling," the shaman responded curtly before summoning a tempest of lightning. "I will make a mental note not to provoke your wrath," the blond muttered quietly. The other lords wasted no time, converging upon the fallen Olympian like an unstoppable avalanche.
*******
As the enemies relentlessly sought to reduce Haimon to ashes, he delved deep into the turmoil of his thoughts while his body regenerated at an accelerated rate.
"Why does my own son despise me so? Why did I seek to harm him when all he deserved was love? Am I becoming like my father?" Haimon pondered with regret. "I made a promise to Hela that I would protect them. Yes, I gave my word. The word of Tartarus!"
Suddenly, a potent surge of abyssal energy forcefully erupted from within the weakened Olympian's body, flinging the adversaries backward through the air with explosive force. Haimon's partially mangled hand tightly grasped the spear still embedded deeply in his chest, and with a wet tearing sound, he swiftly extracted both it and his own beating heart in one motion.
"The Aztecs would surely find such a gruesome spectacle repulsive," Kuat muttered in disgust, struggling back to his feet and witnessing the Olympian's self-surgery. Simultaneously, the powerful shaman Shango fought to maintain his balance as the chaotic aura emanating strongly from Haimon weighed heavily upon his senses and drained his own mystical energies. Beads of sweat dripped profusely from the Thunderer's brow, an unnatural occurrence that revealed the strain he was under.
"We won't be able to defeat him at this rate of regeneration!" Shango urgently whispered to Kuat, fully comprehending their impending defeat as his right hand involuntarily convulsed. Hearing this dire news and observing the obvious signs of distress in his comrade, Kuat's expression hardened with resolve. He glanced down at his own hands, calloused from years of combat, and spoke softly but firmly, "What if we were to tap into our true powers?"
"No, it's far too risky! We haven't even seen the extent of his true powers," Shango swiftly cautioned, shaking his head in refusal. "What!? You're saying he's been holding back this entire time!?" Kuat's eyes widened in shock and anger at the revelation.
"His movements have been too restrained for a seasoned warrior of his caliber," the Thunderer proclaimed with certainty, clenching his trembling hand into a tight fist through sheer force of will.
"So then, we'll just allow him to slaughter us where we stand?" Kuat lowered his head, unwilling to accept defeat.
"No, there may yet be a chance if we can hold out a while longer!" Shango declared, a soft smile of hope now gracing his lips despite the danger.
"Wait, you're right! I sense it too - it's Heimdall!" Both lords immediately turned their gaze skyward at Kuat's exclamation, where the resounding horn call of the all-seeing Aesir guardian echoed across the battlefield.
"Find me, seek, seek, once ignited, then extinguished!" The Olympian's hoarse voice filled the air as he began to sing, and in a swift motion, he raised his hand towards the lower lords, impaling their bodies with icy spears. Kuat and Shango were caught off guard, unable to grasp the sudden turn of events, and their screams were stifled before they could escape their lips. Haimon swiftly intervened, pressing his index finger against his lips, demanding silence: "Quiet!"