Chapter 5

Hephaestus, despite still feeling pain from the fall, wasted no time. As he navigated through the ruined factory, he came across huge vats filled with corrosive acid that had long been abandoned, no longer used for chemical production. His mind, mechanical and precise, immediately began planning how to use these remnants of past, illegal industrial experiments.

He started by shutting off the old valves that still functioned, to keep the remaining acid in the vats. He thought that these tanks could be transformed into something far more useful—a power reactor fueled by his own magic and technology, which would supply energy to the entire factory and his future workshop. The principle was simple, at least to him: specially prepared metal alloys, altered by his powers, and the right combination of alchemical substances could transform the acid into a source of infinite energy.

He rolled up his sleeves and got to work, using his divine blacksmithing skills to modify the vats. Every movement was precise, every change deliberate. As soon as Joker realized what Hephaestus was doing, he stepped closer, watching with fascination and offering no shortage of commentary.

"Oh ho, what masterpiece are you creating here?" Joker asked, moving closer to one of the vats and tapping it with interest. "This looks like a giant acid blender! Is this where we're going to mix drinks for our parties?"

Hephaestus didn't even turn his head, continuing his work, but a smile appeared on his lips. "This will be my makeshift power reactor. I no longer have access to my volcanic reactor, but I need energy to power this factory, and acid is a good resource if you know how to process it properly."

Joker's eyes widened, and he began circling around Hephaestus, clapping his hands like an excited child. "A reactor! Amazing! Heffy, I love it! Only you, in this factory of madness, could make something like this out of… scrap!" Joker giggled, his laughter echoing through the abandoned halls.

Meanwhile, Hephaestus accelerated the process of reinforcing the vats, adding his unique design elements. He worked quickly, using simple tools and a bit of his fire magic and sheer physical strength. When he was nearly finished, Joker leaned over him, licking his lips in satisfaction. "You know, I think this creation needs a fitting name! How about... 'Madman's Reactor'! What do you think?"

Hephaestus paused for a moment, considering Joker's suggestion. The more he thought about it, the more the name seemed to fit their current situation. "Madman's Reactor... It fits," he agreed with a nod.

Joker jumped with joy, as if he'd just won the lottery's grand prize. "Brilliant! Madman's Reactor! Now, what do you say, Heffy, about discussing how we're going to spruce this place up? I think this factory has potential, but it's missing some… materials. You know, the kind that can make a really big boom!"

Hephaestus looked at Joker with a slight smile. "Indeed, some rare metals and magical components would come in handy. But those aren't things we can find on every street corner."

Joker moved closer to Hephaestus, narrowing his eyes in a thoughtful way. "Oh, that's exactly what I'm counting on, my wise companion. In Gotham, you can always find something valuable, especially when you know where to look… and who to persuade to part with it willingly." Joker paused, rubbing his hands together. "Maybe we should plan a little excursion? You—the master of technology, me—the master of chaos. Together, we can get everything we need to make our little nest the hottest spot in all of Gotham!"

Hephaestus didn't object. The idea of working with Joker, despite his madness, began to appeal to him. "Agreed. But we need to act quickly and precisely. We can't draw too much attention, at least not at the start."

Joker burst into laughter, moving so close to Hephaestus that he could almost feel his breath. "Don't worry, Heffy! In chaos, there's method, and in method—chaos. We'll start where no one expects us, and finish where everyone will be begging for mercy!"

Hephaestus looked at Joker with a mix of fascination and caution, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground. But he also saw this as an opportunity for something new, something that could give him more than he ever achieved on Olympus. "In that case, let's not waste any time," he said, raising his hand as a sign of readiness.

Joker grinned widely, and the two began planning their next mission—acquiring the materials that would turn the old factory into a fortress like no other. However, they still lacked detailed knowledge about choosing the right transport and the layout of the entire warehouse. Joker, with amusement, volunteered for this task.

Hephaestus stood in the dim light of the factory, where rusted steel walls trembled under the weight of past chemical experiments. Joker adjusted the collar of his suit and, with a theatrical flourish, spread his arms as if exiting a stage, leaving Hephaestus alone.

At that moment, Hephaestus realized he needed something more than just his abilities. True, his strength was immense—he could easily lift a submarine, not to mention his mastery of magical skills.

But as a creator, a blacksmith, he needed a tool that would fully express the anger and desire for revenge boiling within him. His mind, filled with mechanical schematics and alchemical formulas, conceived of a weapon perfectly suited to the atmosphere of this decaying city, yet possessing its own uniqueness—Hephaestus created an energy shotgun, a weapon not only capable of obliterating everything in its path but also allowing him to savor the destructive power of a modified modern weapon. Something he had never personally tested before.

The preparations began with gathering the right materials. Hephaestus collected remnants of metals that were still resistant to corrosion, along with fragments of old machines that had crumbled with time. He laid everything out on his workbench and began crafting.

He worked swiftly, his hands moving with a precision that belied his muscular, seemingly clumsy frame. He used magical fire to melt the metals into a uniform mass, which he then shaped into the powerful barrel of the shotgun. Inside this barrel, he placed special miniature acid cores charged with energy, capable of generating green plasma—a substance so unstable it could pierce through any material known to mortals.

As he assembled the final components, a vision appeared in his mind—Aphrodite, the treacherous, two-faced goddess whose sweetness was like poison. He saw her beautiful face, full of false affection, and felt his anger rising. He imagined aiming at her heart, then pulling the trigger. A stream of green plasma would tear through her body, turning that beautiful but empty shell to dust. The thought of her body disintegrating into pieces filled him with wild satisfaction.

A smile crept onto his deformed face, and his eyes gleamed with a dark light. "Aphrodite, this will be poetry," he thought. "Your heart, shattered into pieces... yes, that will be the perfect end to our story."

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Joker burst in, leaping theatrically over the threshold. In his hand, he held a crumpled blueprint of Wayne Enterprises' warehouse, which he tossed onto the table in front of Hephaestus. "Heffy, we've got it! The whole map, served up on a silver platter. But what are you tinkering with? Something so shiny?!"

His eyes fell on the newly constructed shotgun, which glowed with a green hue. Joker picked up the weapon with childlike curiosity, turning it over in his hands. "Well, well, what do we have here? Green as spring grass, and probably deadlier than any plant Ivy could ever dream of growing!"

Without warning, Joker aimed the weapon at one of the old, rusted factory walls and pulled the trigger. A beam of green plasma shot out from the barrel, slicing through the air like lightning and tearing the wall to shreds. The explosion was spectacular, sending fragments of metal flying in all directions and revealing a gaping hole through which the moonlight poured in.

Joker erupted into laughter, almost collapsing to the ground from his own amusement. "Heffy, you mad genius! This is a true work of art! I can just imagine what this will do to our little bat friends!"

Instead of getting annoyed, Hephaestus grinned broadly. "Maybe we should add a diffuser that changes the shape of the projectile into a smile, Joker. Haha... But maybe we should focus on getting the materials first."

Joker bounced in place, rubbing his hands together with excitement. "Yes, yes, a delicious idea. But the smile, that's my trademark. You can stick to your hammer, your screwdriver... of course! But first, let's carry out our little heist. We need those parts, and then... then we can play to our hearts' content!"

Hephaestus looked down at the unfolded plan, analyzing every detail. "We need to move quickly. The warehouse is well-secured, but we have the element of surprise. If we get these components, the factory will become a true fortress."

Joker sidled up to Hephaestus and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Agreed! And now, it's time for a little road trip. I've got something special for the occasion!"

He led Hephaestus outside, where his favorite convertible—a purple Dodge Viper—was gleaming under the streetlights. The car was a perfect reflection of Joker: sleek, yet flashy, and ready for mayhem.

Joker jumped behind the wheel, and Hephaestus took the passenger seat. The engine roared to life, and the purple machine sped off with a screech of tires, leaving a cloud of smoke in its wake. Plans swirled in their minds, and the upcoming night promised to bring Gotham even more chaos.

With smiles on their faces, they headed toward the Wayne Enterprises warehouse, ready to take on anyone who dared to stand in their way. Accompanied by an anarchic melody blaring from the radio, they sped toward their destination.

The road ahead was straight but filled with uncertainty and adrenaline, exactly the kind Joker loved most. As the car accelerated, racing through Gotham's deserted streets, Hephaestus began to feel a thrill he hadn't experienced in centuries. His hand tightened around the newly constructed shotgun, his thoughts revolving around the impending confrontation.

"Joker, this heist could be the start of something big," he said, his voice filled with determination.

Joker shot him a quick, devilish glance. "Big? Heffy, this is going to be legendary! And once we take that warehouse, this factory will become the heart of Gotham! Together, my big-brained friend, we'll sow chaos that even the gods of Olympus will envy!"

In a surge of adrenaline and good humor, Hephaestus fired a green plasma shot straight at a bus in front of them. The green projectile blasted into the back of the bus, and the ensuing explosion obliterated the entire rear, turning it—and everyone sitting in the back—into dust. Judging by the piece of flesh that splattered against Joker's windshield and got stuck under the wiper, it was clear that the blast had been devastating.

The fragment was a severed right hand, likely belonging to a Gotham businessman, judging by the expensive gold watch that somehow still clung to the hand.

Hephaestus, still laughing, grabbed the severed hand and, with a theatrical flourish, held it up to Joker. "Hey, maybe we need a helping hand! Hahaha..."

Joker cackled maniacally, nearly losing control of the car as he did so. He then snatched the severed hand from Hephaestus and tossed it playfully in the air. "A helping hand? Never refuse one! That would be so ungentlemanly. Hahaha!"

The Dodge Viper sped through the city, the towering, heavily guarded buildings of Wayne Enterprises looming in the distance. Joker and Hephaestus were ready for what was to come—the heist that would change their futures and etch their names into the annals of Gotham's history as purveyors of unparalleled madness.