[color=ed1c24][h3]Μῑνώταυρος[/h3][/color]
[hr]
The language one speaks shapes the mind. Where one lives shapes the body. For one who did not speak and lived not among humans, monsterhood was the only possibility. 

There simply is not much to consider about him. He was born, he was cast into his home, and he fulfilled his role. And then he was killed for it. There is nothing else to consider. Nothing else to think. Nothing else to reflect on. No deep interpretations of his role, no twists, merely a lighting bolt of being, striking at the ground of myth and history with no thrills. 

He is. That is all there is. 

Him and the hunger. 

And the fact he was summoned from the start. 

[hr]

It ignored those around it, focus not on the other spirits, no matter how familiar some may be. Through the minor squabble and discussion, it honed to a point. Behind a cage of a mask, furiously heated crimson eyes burned with direction. It was as the red-haired lady said, they were aware of the situation and Berserker was not an exception. A ferocious animal it may have been, it nonetheless understood the most simple of instructions, and only one registered to it from the knowledge fed into its mind:

[color=ed1c24][i]Attack. Enemy. Food.[/i][/color]

It was hungry ― It was always hungry. 

[center][b][[s]Demon of the Labyrinth[/s]][/b][/center]

The hulk of porcelain muscle appeared without a sound, hunched in the seats of the Amphitheatre, prowling forward as a tiger would, casting only a cautionary glance down to the others, the bull-mask hiding the perfectly neutral expression beneath. Indeed, something as large as it had hidden itself better than most Assassins could, standing among them from the very minute it all began. And it moved towards them.

And stopped right in front of Theseus. It didn't lean down, instead looming over the hero, the cracked pillars for horns piercing the sky above him, and glints of red glared down at the demi-god, a harsh huff of air coming out from the 'nose' of the mask. 

[color=ed1c24]"Kill. Eat."[/color]

It pointed to the gate, the entrance of the Hyperborean Lunar Sea. If it was a raspy threat at him, an instruction, or a suggestion was left up to Theseus to decide. If he even recognized him...

The colossal Berserker moved off, content with that bit of interaction, large thundering paces moving towards the gate.  

[@Breo]