Ares swung his sword, and Athena defended. The blade clashing against the shield rang out as thunder through the field, mingling with the deafening battle cries of the men whose vigor waxed with the advent of the battle between gods of war. The number of the mortals had thinned significantly, but their conflict grew more heated than ever, spurred by the heat between the deities.

Athena ducked a swing meant to cut into her neck and responded in kind with a thrust from her spear. Ares parried the attack and unleashed a bestial shout as he directed his axe at her thigh. She lifted her leg and spun about to avoid the attack, swiftly countering with a strike from the wood of her spear.

The attack found its mark against his arm, and he stumbled sideways with a pronounced groan. Twisting still on the balls of her feet, the goddess bounced a few steps away. She let out a laugh that only further incensed her brother, who pounced at her with both of his weapons held high above his head.

She leaped farther backwards to avoid the strike that followed, and when Ares’ blades impacted against the barren ground, they spawned a great chasm that swallowed men on both sides of the conflict.

"It never fails," Athena taunted. "You succumb to madness and fight like a beast, and I am charged with taming you."

"Silence!" Ares dodged away from the chasm and bolted after her. Smirking still, Athena jogged backwards away from him, skillfully dancing around the clashing forces while the battle raged around them. Ares spared no such concern, tossing soldiers left and right with his relentless charge.

Storm clouds gathered overhead while the quarreling pair continued their callous game. The winds picked up, and the thunder roared. Athena cast an uneasy glance skyward, but quickly returned her attention to the blades that never ceased to seek purchase in her fair flesh.

She thrust her spear at Ares, and he deftly dodged right. She followed him with a swing that struck his arm, but this time, he pushed back with such force that she nearly spun completely. His vicious grimace swiftly transformed into a wolfish grin, and Ares swung his sword against Athena’s waist.

At last, he drew from her the golden liquid that was as blood to the gods. Athena cried out in pain and stepped clear, wildly swinging her spear to keep her counterpart at bay.

As her ichor leaked from the open wound and dripped into the ground, it mingled with the spilled blood of countless dead and the droplets of water that began to trickle from the sky. Athena blinked against the drizzle as it steadily intensified, grimacing as she endeavored to will away her discomfort. Ares was content to stand by with a self-satisfied grin plastered over his features. Those under his sway proved far less accommodating, now fighting as little more than bipedal beasts viciously shouting and slashing at anything that came too near.

"Victory is mine," Ares declared, his voice elevated to reach her over the sound of the falling rain.

Athena’s countenance tightened in defiance. "I was not aware we were battling ’til first blood," she observed.

"We are not, but none wounded by the mighty hand of Ares have ever walked away from the encounter with their lives. While I may not be able to kill you, I can at least cut away and crush all that makes you a rival to me."

His grin only grew more menacing as he continued, pointing his sword at the goddess. "This is it, Athena. This is the day I finally defeat you and claim my rightful place at Father’s side as the one and only God of War!"

"You have made that claim a thousand times, Brother. I am sure that this will not be the last." Athena gathered her resolve and raised her shield. Her heavy breathing betrayed her fatigue, but she did not give Ares the satisfaction of seeing her waver in her dedication to their battle. She slid one foot back to strengthen her stance and brace herself against the coming onslaught. Ares licked his teeth.

"We’ll see."

The war gods clashed again. The thick storm clouds darkened the skies, denying those below the light of the sun to guide their steps and swings. But the rumbling thunder cheered them on, and the arcing lightning illuminated the faces of their enemies for seconds at a time.

Steel clashed with steel and cut through flesh as men who lived to battle waged war on men who battled to live. Thanatos was busied with the task of carrying the souls of the slain to their final resting place. The fleet-footed Messenger of the Gods was there as well, flitting about the outskirts of the battlefield to offer vague guidance and pithy consolation to the fallen who threatened to wander back out into the world which they could call home no longer.

The battle that had raged on and off for days went on for hours more. The sounds of the conflict were obscured by the whipping winds, the pounding rain, and the crashing thunder.

Stripped of their weapons and their armor by what seemed like an eternity of relentless combat, two men resorted to a test of pure might to decide the conflict between them, trading blows and wrestling in the muck. One of the pair sported a thick beard, and the lines set deep into his features conveyed tales of long nights, stressful campaigns, and old wounds that would never heal.

With a roar that would give the Hydra pause, he threw his full might into a savage haymaker that easily floored his opponent, a youthful figure blessed by the Fates with talent and luck. Those boons had taken him the distance that skill could not, and though his eyes had nearly swollen over, they remained filled with the hope of the victory his superiors had assured him would be theirs.

Each shared the sensation of worn flesh and aching bones, but also utter commitment to the destruction of the other. The bearded figure fell upon his enemy to beat him into the ground, but was rebuffed by a fierce kick. The young man scurried backwards to catch his breath. His mind struggled after a plan. After a short time, he settled on flinging a handful of mud into the face of his opponent, blinding the man long enough to leave him open to a well-aimed punch to the kidney.

The men fought, each refusing to die.

The gods fought, each refusing to yield.

The King waited, watched, grew amused, and grew weary. A great thunderbolt dropped from the sky and struck the earth, creating a loud crack and a shockwave that flung the warring pairs apart. The rain subsided, the clouds cleared, and the winds died down. The increasing quiet revealed that there were none who remained standing. All who were not gods were corpses save the two men split by heaven’s bolt, who stirred with difficulty after their separation.

The gods of war stirred with them and in them, and as they rose, they knew the hearts of the men they favored. Ares stood with the elder, the savage who had given himself to the bloodlust of war more times than he could count. The man looked about the battlefield for his brothers and found only his single living opponent stirring apart from him. His features filled with sorrow, and he buried his face in his hands. How many times? How many more?

No more. Never again.

He had fought for much and lost much more. He swore on the lives of his children to seek and find a better way.

And across from him lay the younger warrior, who moved with Athena’s favor. He scanned the barren waste for his peers and his comrades-in-arms, but none remained alive save his enemy, whom he had failed to end. His features filled with fury as he cursed his weakness and ineptitude: the last man alive, and yet still a failure.

He would be stronger the next time no matter the cost, and he would spread that strength to his people by whatever means might work. Their plans had failed them, but pure might might not.

Both were blind to the gods that stood beside them scanning their souls and learning their minds. Ares ground his teeth together and spat upon the ground. He sheathed his sword and hoisted his battle axe over his shoulder. Athena grew pensive in the moment, loosening her grip on her implements of war as the circumstances became evident. She turned her focus onto her brother, her eternal rival. She looked at him, and he looked at her.

"Brother," said War.

"Sister," War replied.

Each smirked at the other, and after a cordial nod, they switched sides.