Hercules, his golden aura flickering like a candle in a storm, planted his feet firmly on the shattered arena floor. The son of Zeus drew upon the last reserves of his godly heritage, causing the very air around him to ionize and spark.
"Enough of these tricks, Phantom," Hercules growled, his voice resonating with divine authority. "Let us end this, here and now!"
Across from him, the Phantom flickered in and out of existence, each manifestation less stable than the last.
Yet, in those brief moments of solidity, his eyes burned with an intensity that made even the bravest spectators flinch.
"As you wish, son of Zeus," the Phantom's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "But remember, you asked for this."
The Ringmaster, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly reappeared at the edge of the arena.
His cosmic suit was in a state of utter chaos, black holes and supernovas colliding across its surface.
