Moros fell to his knees in a hard collapse as the more nimble god slipped through his legs, tendrils of flame licking in Apollo's wake. A somber mood took over his face then, somber with realization.
And then the laughing picked up again. Hearty and full.
"Heheheh... heheheheh..."
Moros shifted his body weight hard to the right when the Olympian came at him from behind, twin xiphos swords thrusting downward. He didn't have eyes in the back of his head, but it didn't take much to anticipate the blow. A lesser man would have fallen dead here. A lesser god would have given in to the pain and allowed this next blow to shroud his eyes with a haze of black. But the pain was not felt by the dark god, a form whose height was still impressive even when down on his knees. Certain parts of his body would fail; his right arm could only lift halfway, both hamstrings were now sliced in half, and his thick tree-trunk thighs were pierced with innumerable well-placed arrows. Certain parts of his body would no longer work, yet through it all Moros felt no pain. Innumerable years of undesirable means had gained the dark god the invaluable trait, allowing him to consider each and moment without clouded thought.
That is, if he weren't mad.
Moros' body twisted hard to the right and back, shifting his entire weight. Hedylogos' flaming, arrow-strewn body swung out with Moros' mighty left arm, catching the blades once intended for his neck, but more importantly, colliding with the Shining One with such force and momentum as to send Apollo flying off his feet.
"Hahaha..."
Moros' twist left him laying out on his back, hair loose from the ponytail and flowing wildly about his face. Arms out to the sides. Head back against the floor. Burning with fire from the waist down. The sickening smell of charring flesh was fresh in the air, yet through it all his laugh just grew and grew. "HAHAHA!... APOLLO!... YOU FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!..."
The floor began to rumble then. The earth. The ground beneath them. A vicious, tumultuous rumble shook the foundation of the building, if not all of Paris. The ground shook. The walls and ceilings, already weakened by innumerable minutes of searing flames, crumbled in large piles of debris all around them.
"I FIGHT YOU LIKE A GOD!"
He couldn't stand. Three of his four limbs were rendered useless, yet Doom would not cease. Moros rolled over onto his chest, long ebony hair falling sloppily about a soot-covered face, malevolent eyes peering through the curtain of hair. Flames carried further and further up his body, arrow shafts jutting out in every direction. Yet he would not cease. His left hand grabbed at the ground with crooked fingers, knees shifting desperately as he pulled himself toward Apollo with a sickening grin.
A large chunk of the ceiling crashed down on him, collapsing onto his back in an explosion of smoke and embers, yet Moros continued his crawl. His mad, desperate crawl. "TELL ME, APOLLO!" he continued to shout, crooked fingers clawing at the floor. The debris didn't even seem to slow him. Embers caught the wings on his back, igniting the black feathers in a quickly withering arc of flames. Another chunk of the ceiling fell, striking the side of his head, yet even this didn't impede his crawl. Nothing did. Nothing would. The embers continued up, catching onto Moros' long ebony hair as he finally reached Apollo, reaching his arm out to firmly grasp the archer's left ankle.
"...ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME YET?!" he screamed out, staring up at the god as more and more of the building collapsed around them every moment with the increasingly vicious rumbling of the earth. Staring up at the god as his large, bear-like hand squeezed down around Apollo's ankle, malevolent eyes alight with anticipation of a sickening crunch. Staring up at the god with a wicked, white-toothed grin as the flames reached to his hair, searing his scalp in only a matter of seconds. Staring up at the god as the end drew near, smoke filling the night sky as the ceiling finally gave way in its entirety.
Staring up at the god as he held Apollo's foot firm, dooming him to an end.