Hercules. What a joke. A bastard son of a bastard god. Soon he will realize his own insignificance. Soon he will taste his humanity, after all he’s only a half breed. It’s not like he will be remembered and revered for all ages - as I am destined to be. I am Hera. Goddess on high, ruler of Olympus. I’d be good at it too if it wasn’t for that damn sorry excuse for a husband. Zeus the almighty king of gods and all he can think with is his dick. I grow tired of these men.

Well, they can have each other. Hercules will have no one else soon enough. I have filled him with my own anger. He thinks he can resist but, it’s futile. Ah yes….I watch with hungry eyes as he rips into his own future. Those glorious muscles, shining with rivulets of effort and of blood. His strength is truly incomprehensible among mortals.

He sleeps in peace now. I wonder what dreams such a mutt has in that head. No matter. He will rise soon enough and know that I was here.

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