"Is this rock big enough?" Hercules asked, casually resting one arm on what looked like the top half of a collapsed mountain.
Cyd squinted at it. "Uh… this isn't a rock. It's a small hill that failed geometry."
"It's a little oversized," Cyd added, circling the boulder like it might try to bite him.
Honestly, he'd expected Hercules to drag back something hefty, sure—but not this boulder that could double as a temple wall. Where had he even found this?
"No worries," Hercules said, flashing a grin and flexing a bicep that had more muscle definition than most statues. "My strength's up to the task."
"Yeah, I got that memo," Cyd muttered. "You lifted it one-handed like it was a pillow."
"But are we really gonna crush the lion with this?" Hercules asked, patting the boulder like it was a faithful warhorse. "It's invulnerable."
"That's what makes it fun," Cyd said, a sly grin playing at the corner of his lips. "Besides, dealing with the impossible? Kinda my thing."
Hercules shrugged. "Alright. I'll follow your lead."
It wasn't that he lacked his own ideas—he was Hercules, after all—but he'd seen something sharp in Cyd's gaze. The kind of sharp that only came from experience. This lion wasn't just some wild animal to Cyd—it was personal.
"So," Cyd asked casually, as they waited in the clearing. "Why'd you come after this lion?"
"And how'd you end up in this mess?" Hercules countered, plopping onto a nearby stump.
"I took a wrong turn," Cyd said, stretching. "Then another. Then a few more. Woke up in a pit trap. Classic."
"I heard a voice," Hercules said, his tone suddenly thoughtful. "The Goddess of Virtue. She told me to come. Said people here needed saving."
Cyd raised an eyebrow. "That's noble. Choosing virtue over ease… you'll make one heck of a hero."
Hercules smiled faintly. "So will you. And if you decide to leave after this, I won't stop you. You've already earned your place."
Cyd sighed. With the strength you could use to crush me into powder, I'm pretty sure you could stop me even if you wanted to. "I'm not here for fame, Hercules. I'm here because trouble showed up on my doorstep and didn't knock."
"Whatever the reason, you're doing good," Hercules said, placing a hand on Cyd's shoulder. "You'll be remembered. Whether you want that or not."
"Don't care for praise," Cyd muttered. "Remember what we agreed. You take the glory. I just want the teeth and claws."
Hercules grinned. "Your pure white hair and skin… now I get it. You're like a spirit. No reward, just the instinct to protect. You're even cooler than I thought."
Cyd opened his mouth to correct him—but then a deep, guttural roar rumbled from the treeline.
"It's coming," Cyd said, eyes narrowing.
"What's the play?" Hercules asked, already cracking his knuckles.
"Throw the rock," Cyd said simply, hopping onto the massive slab. "With me on top."
"Wait—what?!"
"Just do it. Trust me."
Those three words made Hercules pause—then nod. "Alright. I trust you."
"The Goddess of Victory is with us," Cyd murmured, crouching low on the stone's surface.
The forest split with thunder as the lion charged in—a flash of golden fur, muscle, and fury.
"There's our cue."
"GO!!!"
Hercules dug his heels in, let out a breath, and hurled the boulder like a divine fastball. The ground cratered beneath his feet. Wind cracked through the air like thunder. Trees shook. Birds fled. The world moved.
The lion roared and lunged.
That was its first mistake.
As the boulder flew, the lion locked onto Hercules—so fixated on the obvious threat, it didn't notice the real one riding shotgun.
At least not until it was too late.
Cyd's eyes lit up as he rose to his feet mid-flight, anchored into the rock with his fingers dug deep into the stone.
"Surprised?" he called out, wind tearing through his hair. "You thought I was trying to match your strength?"
The lion's eyes widened. It had figured it out—just seconds too late.
Cyd drew his arm back, then slammed his fist into the boulder with everything he had.
CRACK!
The rock split down the middle, chunks splintering out like shrapnel. The force redirected downward—straight into the lion's head.
A shockwave rippled out. Trees snapped. Earth buckled. The lion roared in fury—but it was a broken, dazed sound, not the confident growl from before.
Cyd landed next to it, panting slightly.
"You're strong," he said softly. "But not stornger than common sense."