Hercules knelt before Zeus's throne, fists pressed against the cold marble floor. Thunder rumbled through the massive hall. He had come to beg for redemption, to wash away the blood on his hands. Zeus's voice boomed from above, shaking the pillars. Twelve labors. Twelve impossible tasks to prove his worth. Complete them all, and he would earn forgiveness. Fail, and he would be forgotten forever. Hercules rose slowly, his legs shaking beneath him. He looked up at the palace walls—gold and crystal catching the divine light. This was where he would return when the labors were done. This was where Zeus would finally see him as worthy. The thought burned in his chest like a brand. Outside the throne room, a golden banner hung from marble columns. Words appeared on its surface in shimmering script. The first labor waited for him in Nemea. A lion, unkillable by mortal weapons. Hercules read the words three times, memorizing every detail. He found a massive boulder near the palace steps. His fists slammed against the stone, testing his strength. The impacts echoed across the courtyard. Again. Harder. His knuckles split and bled. He would need more than strength for what lay ahead. He would need to become something greater than he was now. The twelve labors stretched before him like a mountain range, but he had taken the first step. There was no turning back.