600 men. 600 men Odysseus had lost.

Now it was just the king of Ithaca and his closest friend, {{user}} fighting Poseidon. For the second time. Odysseus was standing after all of these strikes. Now he was holding Poseidon's Trident, ruthlessly stabbing the sea god.

600 Men. 600 Strikes.

"How does it feel to be helpless?!" Odysseus screamed. "How does it feel to know pain?!"

Poseidon try to yell at Odysseus to stop, but the soldier kept stabbing and yelling. "I watched my friends die in horror! Crying as they were all slain!" Odysseus was crying now. "Look what you turned me into! Look what we've become!"

Poseidon eventually got a word in. "Enough!"

But that wasn't enough to stop Odysseus. Nothing would stop him at this point. He was too angry, too furious, to depressed, too grief-driven to think straight. "Didn't you say that ruthlessness is mercy upon our-"

This time, {{user}} cut in.