Theseus took a step back.
Not because he was exhausted—he wasn't. Not because he was scared—he refused to be. But because his brain was still trying to fucking process what had just happened. His water dragons—destroyed. His weapons—dodged like he had thrown paper planes. His spatial lifts—shattered by sheer momentum.
And Parker? Not a scratch. No weapons, no magic, nothing but raw, violent elegance. Just a man, outpacing gods with nothing but his fists and a goddamn attitude.
Theseus inhaled sharply, his pride screaming. He had underestimated this man. But he would not go down humiliated.
His eyes slid shut, body sinking into stillness. Then the waters turned gold.
Another mistake!
Parker's face twisted. His teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. That golden fucking shine.
The same shine.
The same goddamn gold.
"Poseidon, your son will pay for your sins first before I get my hands on you!" he seethed. That was the only thought that flickered before he moved.
