Abomination. Getting To The Root Of This.

A/N: Before you tear me a new one, Just know I tried.

"I want to be magic. I want to touch the heart of the world and make it smile. I want to be a friend of elves and live in a tree. Or under a hill. I want to marry a moonbeam and hear the stars sing. I don't want to pretend at magic anymore. I want to be magic." —Charles de Lint

×ΩΠμ×

"...You still want to overthrow your uncle, Jason?" More of an excuse to start the conversation than anything, Icarus inquired pointlessly.

Jason, although confused by his question, still answered, "Yes?"

Icarus hummed, ".. And how do you plan to accomplish that?" Already knowing but still leading Jason by the nose.

He didn't need to look at Jason to see how hard he's cringing.

"I-i had thought that if I somehow created a team of Heroes to challenge my uncle wi-" Jason didn't get to finish before Icarus sighed heavily.

The same sigh that almost brought Jason to tears —crybaby I say!— "T-teacher?"

Icarus almost felt bad for him. But it's hard to sympathise with someone when you've been desensitised about human life due to some goddesses you've spent a prolonged amount of time with.

But he tries, truly.

"... Your reasoning is flawed, Jason. While I can't blame you as all humans are flawed beings, your naivety truly takes the cake. But I can't fault you for your low birth as it made you unable to comprehend magnificent concepts like Perfection." If people did notice how he didn't involve himself when saying humans or how he's saying that with so much detachment like he's an AI, well….

They are only human, having a flawed understanding of a world so far beyond them it would take the eyes of a god to see how short they fall.

Icarus hummed again.

"...But before I can fix that, there's something we have to go through first— Ideology." Icarus commented, his voice still calm despite his frustration.

Icarus wants to sigh again at Jason's clueless expression. 'Oh, the nightmare.'

"Asclepius, why don't you explain it to him?" All this time only four sets of feet pounding the ground can be heard. If Icarus was any lesser man, he would've believed Asclepius did ditch them somewhere and high tailed them from there.

The way Asclepius walks is concealed, he has been matching his footsteps with theirs and thus reducing the sound his footsteps make. Unfortunately for him, he can't fool him because Icarus is… well, Icarus. 'And it makes all the difference in the world.'

"..."

Icarus can almost feel Asclepius' malicious gaze on his back. But he didn't relent.

Asclepius did need to socialise after all. And Icarus is a caring babysitter above all. Yes, he's being sarcastic.

"Ideology is an orientation that characterises the thinking of a group or, in your case, individual." The soft voice of Asclepius said.

Icarus nodded at Asclepius as a 'thank you' to him and said, "...Right on point. What you need right now is how to think as a King instead of a civilian. How will your kingdom respect you— their king, if you've snatched the crown with the help of outsiders?"

Icarus thought he'll feel pride or something at Jason's look of realisation but nope, nothing came.

"O-oh! I kinda get it." Jason muttured,"But why do I need the opinion of the masses?"

Icarus hummed,"....A good question. Why do you need the opinion of the masses? Because the masses are the ones who have power over you."

Icarus knows he got the attention of not only Jason but Asclepius as well. Something that's hard to achieve as he learned over this past weeks.

"....The masses give you the power to lord it over them, they give you authority to push them around as you please, but overall what's a King without his subjects? Nothing." Icarus frowned as the sun suddenly grew too hot for a moment. A little flex of his magical might and Icarus, and his tag-alongs are protected into a mirror dimension.

"...But before I can continue— Why do you want to be a king? What's a King to you?" Icarus inquired, amused by Jason's struggle at trying to understand what he's saying.

'Will he become distorted if he accepts my explanation? Hm! How fun!'

Jason frowned, not taking notice of how everything's suddenly quiet or how they're cracks into reality, "I-i want to be a king because… b-because…" Because nothing. Jason doesn't have any motive or reason for wanting to be a king besides the fact that it's his inheritance.

Icarus saw through his conundrum easily.

"... You don't need to have a reason to be a king. Some are king for greed, some for lust, some just want to let carnage ensue, some just want to be King for the sake of it." Icarus commented softly.

'I truly don't know how to teach.' Icarus cried a river of blood in his mind.

"Really?"

Icarus hummed. "Affirmative. But do remember that at the end of the day, you're the king. You have Authority no one has. You're not limited to things like morality, justice or some. Your words are the law because you're the king, what's the use of being restrained by 'Good' and 'Evil'? Who will judge you? You're the King and so you are the Law." Icarus cracked a smirk at Jason and Asclepius. His little spiel being a motivation to Asclepius as it is to Jason. After all, doesn't Asclepius hate his father— Apollo because he killed his mother?

So, Icarus gave him something to think about. What's the use of good and evil if you have power? Apollo is a God, he doesn't need things like morality.

Icarus' side-eyed Asclepius and ignored his dead eyes can make anyone flinch.

"... So, little Jason. You'll have to rethink your plan. Play to your strengths." Icarus ruffled Jason's hair and broke the Mirror dimension they were in.

×ΩΠμ×

It was already at night when Icarus and co arrived at the Island of Lemnos. Seeing it as improper and invasive, Icarus suggests resting for now and seeking God's audience tomorrow.

"... Asclepius, help Jason set up the camp."

Speaking of Asclepius, Icarus has to slip him into his grasp soon. Because even now, Icarus can feel it. The drums of war are beating in his ribcage like a madman possessed. It's one of the few pecks that comes with being a higher conceptual being. You can suddenly interact with forces such as Destiny, Fate, Time and Humanity Collective Unconsciousness.

It is something he doesn't want to advertise. What will Zeus and the rest of the Gods feel when they see a Human having a conceptual Weight that can compare to a divine Beast? Icarus doesn't want to find out.

Nonetheless, Icarus knows sooner or later, he and the rest of the Heroes will fight in the war coming. The Divine War.

Icarus shook his head and turned around to leave but hesitated. Will the kids be safe? Asclepius' magic might protect them but… Icarus doesn't want to take chances. Greek mythology, after all, is a world where unexpected things happen.

So, without telling Jason and Asclepius anything, Icarus whispered, ".. noisnemid rorrim."

The island trembled as it felt the distorted authority being used.

Icarus nodded and walked off. He'll come back later, now he has something to do. And he's sure Jason won't notice his absence, Asclepius might but he's not sure about that.

Icarus walked for five minutes then stopped.

'This should do.'

There's three things Icarus wants to do. The first is to connect with The Root, the second is to create an Immortal Potion, the third? Do the Ritual Of Azathoth. Something he has been putting off for a while now. But Icarus wants power now, more than anything if he wants to survive the War coming for them.

A fight between divine beings never end well, now imagine a war. Where every battlefield would be filled with Gods.

Icarus shuddered. Yea, better get strong before that. Oh, don't misunderstand, Icarus is strong. Strong enough to fight some Gods but not enough to fight with primordial— They're not but they're older than anything, so..— beings like the Giants or Titans.

Normally, reaching the Root will require a ritual tweaked for a soul leaving the body and going back to its Origin but Icarus doesn't need to.

Oh, he will be tired of course. He may go into Coma, Unconsciousness or going mad or being devoured by the Root and ceasing to exist.

Okay, so there's a lot of cons but if he achieved what he wants, the pros will be immense.

Icarus sat down on the dirt and covered himself with a Timelock space Dimension.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky. At the stars and deeper.

Ever since Icarus had acquired his Mystic Eyes, he had never used them to do anything powerful like, Travel to the past or future. He's Weight of Existence isn't potent enough to separate himself from the Time stream. And, he suspected that his soul won't support the weight it'll carry if he does time travel.

But enough of that. Icarus is going to the Root, the Origin.

So, without further ado, Icarus activated his Mystic Eyes and poured his will into them.

To anyone watching, they'll see how the space around him distorts and buckles under his Weight. His eyes spun and fractured, before black-ish purple colour bled into his eyes.

Icarus stared at the sky and imposed his will into reality. The Root doesn't have fixed coordinates, it's a metaphysical place. For all intents and purposes, Icarus was not supposed to find the Root. It's impossible.

Unfortunately, various factors had favoured him. One of that is.. Icarus doesn't actually identify as a Human. His Mentality and perspective is twisted enough to earn him a place into the Beast Of Humanity. His Weight of Existence doesn't help either as no Human has that much conceptual Weight. He's an Anomaly, a glitch in the system, a bacteria in the system.

Another one is that Icarus made a contract with beings that govern reality. Beings with unfathomable power, wisdom and knowledge. And how he's changing didn't go unnoticed to him. He made a contract with beings that live outside the streams of time. They exist everywhere and anywhere. One can say they're Omniscience.

Icarus didn't know where the Root is, but he knows one being that does.

"Omgl ulgaya Yog-Sothoth R'lyeh, cifthulhu dl'agl, kaf'f'agn fahf r'lyehnafh."

The world buckled at the mention of the Great Old Ones name, especially the Gatekeeper of reality and knowledge. Reality shattered into a shattered glass— In relation to his Origin— of concepts and Laws.

And Icarus found himself at the Swirling Purple Madness that made all that came to creation. He saw it in its Kaleidoscope rainbow ugly glory.

Icarus looked at it and froze.

M̴̙̮͍̲͂͌̾́́́̂͝ͅa̸̩̞̙͚̾́̔͑d̶͈͕̺͓͚̘̫̜̀̾̓͠n̷̥͓̼͖̘̰̮̭̽͜e̴̢̯̪̘̭̫͙̖̐̑͌̾̕͘s̸̼͎̜̲̳̩̺͙̼̏s̴̨̛̟̜̝̻͈̠̳̾̅̅̓͠͠ ̷̧̨̞̩͓͙̪̺̤͕̆̿Ì̵̢̭͔͙̹̋̆͂́͗̈́̓̒̍n̸̬̯̄̔͂̓̏͝s̷͈͚̱̲̝̘͎̻͈̜̈́̒a̶͕͙̽͊̈͆͊n̴̬̦̲̥͉̭͍͌̋̊̎i̶̛̜̱̩̬̙̣̖̪̍̃̆̐ͅt̴͍̟̫̩̔̌̉̊̌y̸̖̹̖͍̭͘͜ͅ ̴̡̯̫̖͎̝͙͓͉͑ͅD̴͚͚̺͑͋̿̈́̔i̴̧̳̬͐͂̂̏̏̔́̈́̕s̷̡̠̘̗̙̖͓̈͆̑ṯ̶̨͕̰̳͗̆̃́̎̏̏͌̏͝o̷̗͇͙͐̿̓̓̀̽͋̕̚ṙ̸͖͎̝̳̦̗͓̏͆̌͐̚t̴̨̾͐͋̑ï̷̩̻̾͝o̵͔͆̓͘n̸̨̡͙͇̤̹̯̪̮͔̆̚

Blood and brain matter sprout out of his seven orifices.

He clawed his eyes out. Black holes stared at the Root. Seeing it in its True appearance.

Like he doesn't know he's dying, Icarus laughed.

A madman's laugh that echoed through Time and Space.

×ΩΠμ×

Asclepius repressed a sigh when he saw their care-taker abandon them like that.

Icarus is… something foul, that.. Asclepius knows. His mannerisms, the way he talks and walks is just.. weird. Something that sets him off. Unfortunately, Jason didn't share his view of Icarus.

Icarus can fool many people but not him. Asclepius can see the perfectly crafted mask, the way he's detached when he's talking about Humanity. It's like he's not a human himself.

The frightening inhuman intelligence that shines in his eyes is horrifying. His lack of empathy as he had shown before is just as dreadful.

It doesn't help that his voice lacks any Human emotions. His voice, montone, stoic and blank. It's like he's an Automaton or a machine.

His voice being nothing more than analytical and austere yet whimsical and laid back.

He's contradictory at its finest. Where Chaos met Order and worked in sync. He's a— what did Icarus call it again?—... Ah.. he's a Memetic Hazard. Sort of.

Asclepius shook his head and sighed in disgruntlement as the morning glare of Apollo shone bright in his eyes.

Asclepius rig—

DANGER

Asclepius' body tensed as his instincts blared widly in his head.

He scrambled to get on his legs, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the ground.

A Beast. Asclepius' scrambled mind managed to piece that together.

Its footsteps echoed in sync with his own heartbeat.

Asclepius breathed haggardly. The air charged with something, something Alien and eldritch.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Jason's sleeping body tense and shiver.

Asclepius saw a silhouette coming from the tree line, the same tree line Icarus had disappeared to yesterday night.

The silhouette drew closer and Asclepius was struck at how the beast seems to take a humanoid form.

The shadow gre closer and closer, until it was half revealed in the morning sunlight.

The first Asclepius saw was the eyes. The eyes on the Beast's neck, four in count and the tentacles lazily floating behind the Beast's back.

The Beast's maw was open in re-creation of a smile—That is fake fake fake fake fake fake fake— The 'Smile' cuts through the Beast's face like a cleaver.

Another thing was the purple flame-y thing that surrounds the Beast's. Its magic, Asclepius concluded.

But the thing that took his attention away was the Beast's eyes.

It's Eyes….

It's Eyes…..

M̷̨̭̩͔̲̝̦̮̠̦͉̪̒͆̓̍͋̒̇̓̿͛̈͂́̍͋̂̀̚͝a̸̛͈̘̟̰͆͆̔́̇̓̈́̉̈́̀́͂̏̈̊͊̃̈́̏̓d̶̛̛̛̮̙͗̍͗̔̉́̌̏͛͐͂̎̈̏̈́͆̓́̀̌̅̔̿̉͑̚̚̚͘̚͠n̵̡̨̨͚̰̥̫̠̱͍̩̭͇̝̯̹̮͈͕̣̪̞͍͉̪̺̣̥̘̠͙̖̜̟̯͍̄̉e̵͖̤̯̳̹̺̺̖̳͈̠͈͚̫͓̹͎̥͇̻̦̱̭̾̄̈͐̾̈̈́̍̓͑̀̽́͊̽̍̈́̅́͑̈́͌̽ͅş̶̢̧̢̦̝̥̣̣͓̰̳̗͉̩̥͎͚͈̰̞͍̯͍̮̗̥̠̆̔͋̐͑͛̎̇̎̔̐̿̄̒́̋̉̀͂̎́͂́̄̋̕͘͝͝s̷̡̢͚̲̜̘̣̭͈̟̠̞͓̮̩͕̒̄̐͒̔̌̏͂̾̑̎̄͊͘ ̸̧̱͚̤͈̹͓̥̱̙̤̯̘̺̽͘M̵̨̪̬͇̫̭͕̹̮͔͔̪̋͆͒̾̅̍̇̆̈́̒̿̚̚ͅa̴̧̧̡̢̹̼̙͕͕̫̹̫͓͎̞̥̗̗̯͓̰̗͂̄̏̅̓̎̉̄̀̆̐̈̋̈́̃͋̈́͊̈́͊̓̎͋͗̏̓͊̀͂̕̚͘͜͝͠ͅͅḑ̸̡̟̲͍̼͎͈̺̘̳͖̹̮̰̞̩̩̗̭͎̜̞͖͒̔͋̿̃́̾̓̀̒̽̒̉̊̀͋͗̒͐̓́͂̕̚͜ͅṅ̴̢̳͚̪̱͚̦̫͎̜̳̰͍̱͕̹͇̙͕̻̒̽̏̉̀̀̐͜e̸̛̛͚͇̼̳̟̎̀͊̈́̾̓̾͐͋͗͌̓̍̑͒̽̀͌̇̾̚͘͘͝ͅͅs̵͕͉͖̣̺̥̊̓̒̑͘͠͝s̵̢̧̛̛̫̦͚͎͙͖̱͙̲̙͙̠̭͖͖̣̝͎̰̳͈͙̄̾͌͗̍̇̉̈́̀̋͊̄̈́̈́̈́̒̾̓̇̈́́͊̆̍͂̚͘̚̚͠͝ ̸̨̲̱͍̫͔̝͖̰̰̖̥̙͉̝͙̘̝̳̭̥̥̼̙̗̽͜ͅĆ̴̛͚̹̤̫̖͑̾̔̈́̽̌͛̆̊͂̌̍̕̚͝͝͝͝ǫ̴̠̞̮̥̰̰̖̪̘̳̞̲̠̂n̷̦͇̪̤̹̫̗̱̊̂̐̏̑͒̓̃̀̓̊̈̒̀͆͠ͅt̷̙͚̬̲͇̫̱͔͇͚͉̞͓͇͚̗̭̹͓̹̅̐̋̓͌͗̀͌̃͑̈́͌̎͒̌͆͐̈̀̈́̒̉̚̚̕̕̚͝r̶̨̡̛̛̛̦̭̝̮͙͍̯̠̬͇͎͒̓̇̅̄̅̈̓͌͐̏̓͒̏̈́̿͑͐͑̃̊̕̕̕͠͠͝ͅa̵̧̢̨̨̡̢̡̨̧̮͙̦͙̰̩̙̪̩͙̱͙̗͍̩̘̝̻̟̱̖͚͌̽̋̑̋̐̓̍̀̒̓͒̑̇̏͘͘͜͝͠͝d̸̢̠̣̎̐̃̎̈͐̎̈́̏͊̇̑̍̀̀̇͌͊̇́͗͆̑̊̎̕͘̚͝ỉ̷̢̨̢̡̛̥̳̖̜̹͍̮̣̗̘̮͔̼͕̻̝̤̥̣̙̺̩͍̗͓̮̲̲̎̄͊̇̔́̍͆̀̓̏͜͝c̷̛̛̜̆̈̉͆̒̈́̏͐̽̑͊͂̎̀̑̀͛̅͊̀͝͠t̶̡̢͇̪̮̦̲̝̺͎̦̠̥̳̲̖̜͕̰̤̟͔͌̈͛͆̍̇͋̏̚͜͠͝ ̶͚̯̫͕̾̒̐̂͆̎̕͠Į̴̧̛͇̣͔̗̭̯͙͈̭͔̮̝̟̻̻̎̏́͂́̋̀͗̈́́͗́̓̈́̈̏̽̃̕ņ̴̧̼̗̟̥͈̬̱͍̮̮͎̫̬̠͇̣̜͇̙̟̯̮̗̺̳͇̀̏͛͌́͒̓̀̋̏̄̑̇̉͜͜͠ͅs̶͈̩̰̯̺͓̾͊͐͊̓̃̅̎͆̾͋̑́̓̽͘͘̚͝a̸̢̨̱͉͓̼̝͙̎̔̎̎͑̀͆̋̈̄̃̔̈́̇̀̍̈́̄͑̋͑́̇̇̌̋̒̚͘͜͝ͅn̶̡̤̣̪̼̳͙̽̒̏̌͂̉̓̈́̓͗̈͑̌̑̽̋͂͆͂͠ȋ̶̢̨̢̧̛̦͕͓̬̫̣͕͖̣̪͈̜̼̜͚̼͓̜̦̘̗̼̻͐̾̾̀́͊̃̓̉̌̌̆́͆͗͒͆͗̕ͅt̶̡͙̗̟͚̻̩̠̲̼͎̰̠̠̣͔̰͓͔̤̥͋̉͊̈́̉̑̚͜͜ͅý̵̡͖̤̭̙̲̻̠̞̞͈̹͔͇̠̲̩̝̫͎̰̩͓͓͓̘͋̇̌́̆̋̄͆͒̈́̔̃̄͑̈́̽͛̏̔̈́̈́̇̄͑̊͛́̑̾̚̕͘̕͜͠ͅ ̵̻͉͎͍͔̣̟̹̻̞̬̱̠̬́̈́͗́̈́Ŕ̵̡̧̨͍̦̙̭̺͔͇̺̹̥̳̘͍͚̗͂̉̌͗̓̈̇͒̃̀́̈̽͌̑͜͝͝ơ̷̼̽̐͐̅̿̄̏͗̃̀͑͂̀͌̾̀͒̆̅͘̕ǒ̶̡͓͎͓̖̮̠̰̣͔̲̪̰̓̊̈́̋̋̾̅͒̂͜͠͝t̴̢̡͈̞̪̭̮̮̤̮̪̭͈̓̎ ̵̛̛̦̻̫̜͍̬̼̱͍̬̲̇̓̎̽̉͗̅̆̌́̎̇̀͆̎̓̂̂͌̈̈́͌̆͒̈̏̃͌̐͘̕͝R̸͙͛̒̔̂ơ̸̧̡̭̳̤͎̘̼͎̰̮̯̲̫̲̤̖̗̘̹̲͍͎̞͔͖͈̱̗̮͑͌̐͌̔̅́̆̔̋̕̚͜ͅȏ̵̧͈͔͔̲͚̼̥̜͌̽̇́̂͋͂͒̂̀̀̐̒̾̃͠t̶̨̡̡̢̜̭͇͖̖̭̗̺̯̭̰̥̱̟̝͓̟̜̬̯̻͓̞͇̭͍̤̰̙̉̀̎̓́̑͛͂̇̈́̾̐͜͜ͅ ̵͓͓̔͊͗̀́͐͒̾͐́̕̕͝Ṙ̸͕̈́o̷̧̨̫̪̙͇͈͓̪̭͍̭̮̙̱͉̯̘͎̰̝̺̲͓̗̼̙̦̩̜̦̹͒̄͌̽͆͒͆̋͐͂̑͐͝ơ̴̧̢̮̳̯͉̞̮̹͐̈̊̂̐̀͑̉͊̽͑͊̃̔͘̕͝͝t̷̜͖̘̺̬̬̠̣̪̮̘̑̅̄̃͂͋̽̓̽͜͠ͅ ̴̡̡̨̢͈͖̝͉̭͙̫̹̗͒̍̀͆͒͒̾̔͆̌̏̉͛̍͂͋͐̎̒̍͊͑̑̈́̓̽͂͘͘R̷̢̨̨̛̹̻̜̗̖͈̙͚̭͕̖̗̖̞͙̝̺̹͚͐̏̊͆͜ǫ̴̫̜͈̫͕̜͍͓̙͉͖̤̌̇̂̾̌̇͋͊̍̊́͛̉͗̆͒́̄̊̽͑͋͒̑̇̚̕͘͠͠͝͝͠ớ̶̛͇͔̹̣̿̑̏̃̓̈́͗̎̃̈́͗̀̒̐͋̿̂̏͠͠͠͠t̵͍͎̘̣̲̭̜͙̲̱̝̩͈̜̥̗̆̑̆̀̒̒̓̌̏͜ ̷̨̡̰̣̝̼̲͍̩̘̼̬̬̠̭̝͎͍̝̳̰͎͎̦͓̱̜̣̠̗̣͇̤̘͐̾̔̉͋̓́͛̾̄̆͝͠ͅŔ̶̨̛̜͎͖͍͔̋͂̀͊̑͊̂̐̌͊͂̆̄͗͐̇̾̄̄̊̇̀̽̾̔̉̕͠͝͝͠͝͝ͅo̴̡̘͚̗̦͉̲̯͎̥͔͈̣̿̃̈̈́͊͌̊̇͛͑͘͝͠͝o̶̡̡̡̧̲̱͚̥̩̼̗̣̜̝̰̦̜̦̺͕͎͉͎̜̝̱͎̝͚͇̰͚̤̟͉̾̉̓̌̾̅̒̇́͊̌̐̏̄̈́̂̆͌͑̅̐̉̅̒̃̒̔͑̒̒̕͜͝t̷̡̢̡̺̱̭͚̖̰̘̮̦̞̺͍̣̗̲͓̥̦̞͎̹͕̙̬̯̥̯̠͎͒̌̄́̈̇͜͜͠ ̸̨̢̧̧̛͖̟̙̼͚̞̲̹͍̮̻̝̬̙̭̗̖̫̹̫͈̫̣̙̹͖̻̺͚͈̙̓̿͗͌̄̇̔̇̍̓̓͌̈̆̃̍̃͌̃̚̕͝͠͠͝͝P̵̨̢̛̩̞̮̭͕̖͇̟̺͖̖̭̏̅̿̌̑̆̇́͛̈́̂̓̅́̾̾̎͋͝͝͝ư̵̩̩̲̙̮͌͗̎̂̃͌̑͆̇̽͑̇̊͂̕̚͘͝r̵̡̨̢̡̫̙̰̲̠͉̫͈̫̻̈̎͋̔͑͜͝p̴̨̨͔͕͇̭̝͖̤̠̪͈̣̘̥͕̯̖͎̽ļ̸͍̺͓͕͈͍͔̠̬̱̞̤̬̭̜͉͎̝̔͊͗̉͑͋̋̈́̎͆̆͝ͅę̴̢̧̢̛̮̘̯̠̳̫͕͉̫̣͉̲͙̤͊̄̎́̀̔̓̍̑͂̀̀̍̉̊̏̌̒͜͝͝ͅ ̵͕͕̥̺̜̲͇̲̱̰̺̘̞̝͛̿͜P̶̨̛̠̖̼̙̞̘͓͉̼͚͔͚̳̞̭̅͊̌̈́̅̌̓͛̾̆̒̔̈̑̈́̂̏̊͛̂̔̉͗̅̂̄̈́̂͘̕͘̚͘ư̶̧̰̦̬̥̣̲̪̜̠̻̦̻̬̠̪̼̜͌͋̈́͋̿̑͛̑̓͆̑̿̉̀̏͒͆̊̏̐̾̋̈́̌̂̎̈̾̊́̕͝ͅṙ̴̨̢̢̢̛͍͖̘̖̞̪̫̘̜̱̖̜̟̜͓̩͍̥̘̲̦̳͐̾͐̔́̐̐̒̂̕ͅp̵̤͕̺̻̹̹͕͓̱̪͎̹̟̼̤̺͖̝͂͂͊̊̒̇̀̈́̐̇͐͌̅̓̆̚͝͠l̵̙̰̜̈́̾͌̑͌͂̋̍̈́̏e̸̡̢̡̧̪̦͔̜̟̲͚͖̮̮̫̥̫͚̮͎̯͍̭̥̞̜̮͆̇̾̃͒̅̅̎̍̓̈́̔̎̍̈̈́͆̋́͋͆͌̈́̚͘̕̚̕͜͝ͅ ̷̧̡̯̫̬̘̲̳̜͍̖͍͕̑̿͒̆͂̌̅͛̂̈̒̿͗͒̓̂͛̋̌͆̏͛͘͠E̸͇̗̲̐̀̀͒̀̽̓͌̇̇̑̏́̽̽̌̐̀̓͜͠͝l̸̨̛̲̎͊͗̍̌̋̉̇̃̈́̌̀͆͂̄͛̀̋͒̎̏̈́̍̾̑̾͌̏̚̚̚̚͝͝d̶̥̤̘̰͇̗̜͓̥̳̮̮͙̩̠̭̻͓͙̰͆ͅr̴̛͚̺̙͌̾̓̏̾̐́̾̉́̈͊̇̄͘͝ì̶̢̛̛̩̩͚̱͖̮̅̀̓̓̔̓̇̍̈́͑̋̓̄̀̅̊́̿͌͝͝͠͝ͅt̶̥͈̦͖̙̹̫͔͚̓͊̀͐̓̀̅͂̓̾̿̆̉̽̌́̆͆̌̅̌̂̒͛̓̎̋̊͋̕͘͜͝͠͝͝ͅc̸̛͇̝̩̙̣͓͎̲͕̟͔̗͍͈̰̪̳̟͇͎̜͖̤͎̘̤̤͔̰̙͍͑͌̓͛͘̚ͅḩ̵̡̛͓̫̦̦͍̝̞̦͉̠̼̠͈̪͇̀̅͊̀́̊͋͆͆̑̈̇̔̓̈́͘͘ͅͅ ̵̛̤͙̼̟̙̥̰͙̬͉̙̲̹͈̥̜̦̣̙͒̉̿͐̀̀̈́̿͊̓͌̑̊̐̾͂̈́̽͗̂͘͘͝͝͠ͅĘ̷̡̡͖̳͇̰̲̮̼̹̣̮̥͕͙̬̪̹̖͕̭͇̮͙̆͊̿̌̃̎͒͐̓̏̽̂͑̊̋͝l̷̢̢̢̨̜̥͈̱̞͍͇̬͎̫͖̟̦̼͙̘̬͔̘̩͉̤̳̟͉̪̰͇͇̫͍̝̀͊̽̏̀̍͘̚͠d̷̛̬̫̥͍̦̰̩͔͐̈́̇́̈́̀̽̂̂͋̐̆̆̃̋̏̚͠r̸̛̼͔̞̲̰̭̦̓̌̉̀̿͋̎̈̇͑́̈́͗̌̓̌͐́̓̇̂̆͆̚͘̕͝͝͠į̶͚̖͓̲̯͕̭̦̙͙̱̳̰̳̯͙̖͍̺̺̲͍͖̤͓͚̜̟͕͔̈́͒̒̏̀̂̄͌̿̀̋̿̈̓͂̂̀̂̏̾̊͂̓͛͘̕͝ͅt̷̛͙̫͚̝͚͓̉̓́̎̏̽̓͗͆̾̅͆̎͑̀͂̍̆̈́̈̈̾̽̍̓̂͋̚̕̚͜͠c̷̨̢̩̲̭͍̪͙͈̝̟̲̭̥͚̗̣̳̥̖͚͍͍̜̪̃̉̐̎̋̂͐̐̆̒͂͒͂̑̑̈́̓̽̂̓̓̉̃̄̾̿̇̕͜͝ḩ̵̛̛̛̤̮̺̻̗͕̥͕͍͍̰̥̲͚̳̱̖͖̰͕͑̇̽̂̈̎̊̀̑͊͂̓͆͝͝ ̸̨̡̛̛̪͚̻̗̯̩̲̺̟͉̺̞̤̬̼̜͈͍͖̘͔͙̬̄̅̓̎̓̽̈́̀͗̈́̈́̿̀̑͌̚̕͜͜ͅE̸̛̙̣̜̗͈̫͓̠̳̟͙̳̫̫͇͉͑̀͐̽̌̽̈́͛̾̎̔̑̑̍̿̊̅̈́͋͗̒͗̀̔͐̈́̋̈́̑̕̕͝ͅl̸̨̧̢̫̝̗̫̘͙̹̗̲̠̬̼̥͙̲̲͚̰̯̪̼̬̓̍͛̆͂̃̎̕͝ͅd̶̡̘̞̻̯̙͇̞̯̙̺̙̞̯͎̰̮̳̜̺̫͌͂̄͜͝ͅr̸̨̡̛̤̩̬͉̝̝̰͓͈͔̠̱̪͚̜͙͍͎̬̱̘̣̦̥̺̩̘̈́̑̍̍̉̈́̔̽͂̑̑͛͒̀̕͘͜͝͠i̸̢̧̡̝͉̼̥̖̯̟̬̪͉̮͖̙̖̣̼̤̞͚͎̪̟̺̙͈͎̹̗͋̿̔́̍͆̆̿̌́͂̑̑͌̄͊́̍͊̔̕͝͠ͅt̵̨̨̻̳̖̓́̆̄͌͋̐̉͂̈́͂͌̆̾̈́̈́̀́͋̐̆̽̏̊͂̌̏̑̽̓̓̋͐̚͠c̶̡̨̛̛̛̤͉̭͖̰̣̮͍̹͉͉̞̹͎̙̫̯͇̣̖͈̝̳̥̱̖̹̪̮͎̺̺͕̮̓̐̅̏͐̓̈́̑͂͋̌̃̅̌̽̊̈́̏͘̕͘h̴̡͉̳̹̭̞͍͉̟̘̰̜̝͇̝̹̳̤̻̭̯͇̲͕̝͕̥͕̥̪̤͈̾̏̇̈́͂̔̈́̓̒́́̆͊́̉̓̎̀̉͐̈́͗͘̕͝ͅ

The Beast's mouth opened.

" W̶͎̻͊̉͑h̵̰̖̪̐̃y̶͈̙̚,̶̨̧̘͂ ̶̗̣͌H̴͉̠̱̒̓͘ḙ̷̒́͆ĺ̴̝̲͌l̵̗͝o̸̻̤̍̀ͅ ̵̡̲̺̈́̈́ṯ̴̳̀̊h̶͎̦̣̏͗ḙ̴͊͛r̸̲̬̪̉ȩ̷̱͗.̵͕͕̀͊"

Asclepius held his head and—

Screamed.