"I shall await your next challenge, mighty warrior" were the last words Ganondorf heard amidst the clash of their fists, while his body disappeared. And then it was over. Ajax stood amidst a pile of rubble and grit that was a mountain only minutes ago. His face was grim. He felt no real joy from this victory. The fight itself, that had been joyous. Almost mechanically, he removed the large belt that had remained strapped to his waist throughout the entire fight and lifted it high over his head. Another victory. Even amidst the falling dust, the belt seemed to shine bright as if light sought out it's golden surface. He sighed deeply as the world transformed around him.
He was confronted with all six Sages, representatives of all species and all elements if his memory of this world was correct, and offered...whatever it was he was summoned to acquire. "I'm only a travelling fighter, nothing more. But as a word of advice, putting the power of gods within the reach of men leads to nothing but grief. You'd do well to remember that". And so, he grabbed the orb and found himself transported back to where he'd started, a blue void with an overgrown lizard. Before he could ask why it even needed any kind of assistance whatsoever, a shadowy being disappeared with the item he'd retrieved, snatching it right out the dragon's hands.
He was once again given no real chance to speak up, this time about the dragon's competence, before he found himself transported once more. But where everyone else was taken to the interdimensional nexus, Ajax materialized in an ancient structure resembling a massive greek amphitheater. In its center was a large ring, a crude construction using cut down logs as ringposts, wads of cloth wrapped around the turnbuckles as padding and actual ropes rather than cables. The canvas, and indeed everything else, was clearly old, dirty and almost entirely stained in blood and sweat, but the entire setup was still obviously quite solid and ready to use.
He recognized the place. It was where boxing, wrestling and eventually pankration events were held in his hometown. Wondering why exactly he was there, he climbed up the ring and put his weight on the ropes, which held together with no sign of strain. It felt good, it had been too long. Before he could start actually running across the ring, however, a pair of figures materialized in front of him. Though not as massive as he was, both of them were fairly tall and obviously muscular, very clearly athletes of some kind dressed in a garb similar to his. He recognized them both. His father, Diagoras, and his aide, Aurelios. Both had passed away long ago.
"You can relax, Ajax. This is no demonic trickery", the figure bearing his father's face spoke. "We are but a creation of both The Crucible and your mind, made to safeguard you from your own pride", continued Aurelios. Then they spoke in unison. "You've received power from the artifact, certainly you felt as much. But you will not allow yourself such a shortcut. Commendable, but should you try to reject the Crucible's energies you might cause permanent damage to yourself, if not outright erase your very existence. To prevent this, it searched your mind for a way to let your ego accept the situation. You are to train here until you master your new abilities".
Ajax nodded, fully aware that their judgement was correct. He would've hated wielding power that he did not feel was truly his own. He probably would've rejected it, violently. By picking the place where his fighting career had begun and manifesting the two men whose advice and expertise he held above all others, it ensured that Ajax would at least listen. By letting him achieve his new powers via training and pushing himself, it had provided the perfect way for him to come to terms with them. "Your training here is real, but time spent is unimportant. You will take as long as you need and but a few moments will have passed elsewhere".
And with that, Ajax's great training montage began. An overly long and torturous series of impossible exercises that bore little to no relation with reality and that should, by all rights, have killed him. I mean, how the hell does one train to stand in the air, nevermind fight in space, without recurring to out and out magical energy explanations ingrained into a setting. I've no idea. I'm also not feeling like making this that much longer since I still have to cover for his arrival to the city. So lets just say he spent a good long while there, training to do the impossible, it's not like his previous limits were reasonable, and eventually succeeded.
And then, only then, he awoke to find himself standing about knee-deep in seawater, fully clothed and totally rested. He'd been standing there like a particularly dim zombie for the past few moments, while his mind worked overtime to deal with the automatic powerup situation and trying to end it without Ajax exploding, either literally or figuratively. It had done a fairly good job. After the workout, he felt calm, relaxed, ready to explore...wherever this was. For the moment, he did not think of fighting. "...huh. How long have I been standing here? And did anyone say my name? Or icecream? I could go for some icecream now" he said to no one in particular.