Steve coughed, trying to clear the dust from his lungs as broken stone settled across the hall. He forced his eyes open and looked toward the figure who had crashed through the ceiling.
"…Sir Patrick?" he said, confused. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in London?"
Ares straightened slowly, completely unfazed by the destruction around him. His coat shifted slightly as he brushed off the dust, his expression calm—too calm.
"Steve," he said, his tone carrying quiet irritation, "didn't I tell you not to come to this party?"
There was something off.
The voice was familiar, but the weight behind it felt… wrong.
"Why can't you follow such simple logic?" he continued.
Before Steve could even respond—
He moved.
There was no warning.
One moment he stood several steps away, and the next he was right in front of Steve, his hand shooting forward with terrifying speed, aiming straight for his throat.
Steve froze.
He couldn't react.
But the strike never reached him.
A black scythe appeared out of nowhere, intercepting the attack mid-motion. The blade blocked the hand cleanly, stopping it just inches from Steve's neck with a sharp, ringing impact.
The force of it rippled through the air.
Ares paused.
His eyes shifted to the scythe.
For the first time, something changed in his expression.
A flicker of caution.
Daniel stood there, holding the weapon with effortless ease, as if stopping that attack required no effort at all.
Ares didn't push further.
Instead, he pulled back immediately, retreating several steps in a single smooth motion before landing lightly, his gaze still locked on the scythe.
There was no confusion in his eyes.
Only recognition.
Before anyone could react—
Diana moved.
She leapt from the first floor, her sword drawn, cutting through the air as she came straight down toward him. There was no hesitation left in her, no doubt clouding her judgment. She had what she needed.
Her blade drove forward, aimed directly at his heart.
"Too easy."
Ares disappeared.
The sword struck the marble floor with a sharp crack, the force of the impact echoing through the shattered hall.
Diana straightened slowly, her grip tightening around the hilt as she lifted her head.
"I know you," she said, her voice firm and unwavering. "You cannot hide from me any longer."
He reappeared a short distance away, watching her calmly.
"Ares," she said firmly. "God of War."
"I will destroy you," she continued, stepping forward without fear. "And the war you have brought upon mankind will end with you."
"I am Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolyta," she declared, her voice unwavering. "And I will bring this to an end."
"Diana… do you truly believe I caused this war?" Ares said, his voice calm, almost patient, as if he were correcting a misunderstanding. "I did nothing. I did not start it. Mankind did. They are flawed, cruel, and eager for conflict. This war is their own creation."
Diana's expression hardened, her grip tightening around the sword.
"Lies," she said, her voice steady with conviction. "I know the prophecy, and I have the Godkiller. I will end you and stop this war."
Ares let out a quiet laugh, the kind that carried certainty rather than mockery.
Diana didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, her blade cutting through the air with full force, aimed straight at him. This time, Ares didn't step aside. He raised his hand and caught the sword mid-strike, stopping it completely as if it weighed nothing.
For a brief moment, the two stood locked in place—her strength against his effortless control.
Then the blade began to crack.
Fine fractures spread across the metal, and before Diana could react, the sword shattered in his grasp. The fragments crumbled into dust and slipped through his fingers, scattering across the floor.
Diana stared at the empty hilt in shock.
"That," Ares said, watching her closely, "is not the Godkiller."
"There are many truths you were never told," he continued, his voice steady and deliberate. "Truths your mother chose to hide from you, because she feared what you might become."
Diana looked up at him, confusion flickering beneath her determination.
"And one of those truths," Ares said, his gaze locking onto hers, "is who you really are."
He paused just long enough for the weight of his words to settle.
"You are not merely an Amazon, Diana."
"You are the daughter of Zeus."
Ares watched her carefully as the truth settled in.
"A god cannot be killed so easily," he continued, his tone calm yet heavy with certainty. "Only another god can kill a god. That is why you were created, Diana. That is why you were told those stories."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering as if revealing something sacred.
"You were not given the truth… because you were the truth."
Diana's breathing grew uneven, her thoughts colliding with everything she had believed her entire life.
"All those stories," Ares went on, "the Godkiller, the prophecy… they were lies meant to guide you, to shape you, to bring you here."
He gestured lightly toward the shattered remains of the sword on the floor.
"That weapon was never meant to kill me," he said. "You were."
Diana took a step back, her expression shifting, doubt beginning to crack through her certainty.
Ares saw it.
And pressed further.
"Mankind is not worth saving," he said, his voice gaining weight, no longer gentle but persuasive. "You have seen them, Diana. Their cruelty, their greed, their endless hunger for destruction. They do this to themselves."
Images of the trenches, the starving soldiers, the suffering villagers flashed through her mind.
"They don't need me to start wars," Ares continued. "I only whisper… and they destroy each other willingly."
He extended a hand toward her.
"You are a god," he said. "You stand above them. You see what they truly are."
His voice softened again.
"Join me."
Diana stood still, her thoughts in turmoil.
Everything she had believed—her purpose, her mission, her identity—was unraveling.
"You can end it," Ares said quietly. "Not just this war… all of it. Cleanse this world of the corruption that poisons it."
Before Diana could answer—
"Well… there's one flaw in that," Daniel said, appearing beside her.
Ares's gaze shifted instantly.
Daniel didn't look at him. His eyes remained on Diana.
"Yes, I agree," he continued calmly. "There is darkness among humans. There is greed, cruelty, and everything you've seen so far. But just because one part of the body is rotten doesn't mean you destroy the whole body."
He took a slow step forward.
"What you do… is try to cure it."
Diana's breath steadied slightly as she listened.
"And don't forget something," Daniel added, his voice quieter now but firm. "You've seen their worst, but you've also seen their best. Their kindness. Their love. The way they protect each other even when they have nothing."
Images flashed through her mind—the village, the people laughing despite everything, the way they welcomed strangers.
"They're not all the same," Daniel said.
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then Diana lifted her head.
"I will stand for those who cannot fight for themselves," she said, her voice steady again. "For kindness… and for love. Not for selfishness… and not for destruction."
Ares's expression darkened.
Daniel gave a small nod, then reached out.
"Well then, Diana… here."
He handed her the scythe.
The moment she touched it, the weapon shifted, reshaping itself in her grasp. It turned into a sword.
"Now," Daniel said, stepping back, "do what you think is right."
Diana tightened her grip on the weapon, her eyes locking onto Ares.
"I will end you, brother," she said firmly. "And I will end this war."
Ares's calm finally broke.
"So be it," he said, his voice no longer restrained.
*****
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