Achilles' fingers trembled around his Pelean Ash spear. The divine shield's ekphrasis—depicting the world, the sky, and the concepts of peace, war, and nurturing—glinted as he stomped on the underworld's barren soil.
This was it. A glory he had never tasted. One that would mark his name through the ages as an equal to the brutish Heracles. No! He would surpass him. After all, he was the pinnacle of excellence, the best warrior the world ever saw.
Adam followed him with a chuckle as he gave his instructions to Garduck. "Support us from behind. Don't risk your life because of the atmosphere. Your moment will come when we reach Tartarus."
Garduck pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing at the familiar situation. "I know you didn't bring a weak fighter like me for no reason. I trust and won't discuss your commands."