Perseus steadies his breath. He should be fine. With the bronze shield of Athena, he should be able to see this “Medusa” without turning to stone. And with the harpe sword of Hephaestus, he’ll take her head with ease and use it to save his mother from King Polydectes.
The cavern floor is damp and musty, the stagnant rocks and earth undisturbed after so many years mixed with the stench of mildew. How could any creature live in a place such as this? He supposed a monster would.
A soft hiss echoes within the cave.
Perseus turns his back, looking at his surroundings through the shield’s reflection. This is dangerous, maybe even borderline stupid.
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