Issue #20: X, The Herald.

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(General P.O.V)

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

The sound of metal on metal resounded across the entire forge.

The heat hanging around, formed an oppressive atmosphere that no normal human would survive in.

Clang!

Clang!

It was only fitting then, that the Being responsible for the meticulous metal pounding was as far from human as the heavens were from the earth.

Hunched over, barely 5 feet tall, left hand on a pair of tongs and right hand on a glowing silver hammer, Haephestus hammered on, adding the finishing touches to his latest project.

"You said come back Tuesday."

An arrogant voice stated from his back.

"It's Tuesday and I want my suit."

Haephestus swallowed a sigh, face grimacing in annoyance.

"Patience brother."

Clang!

Even with the new arrival's disruption, he never paused on his methodical approach: swing, raise the hammer and then swing again.

"You know how much I care about the details."

The God of Blacksmiths added, the red glow of the metal on the anvil reflected on his round googles.

"It doesn't have to be pretty Haephestus."

His brother groused in a deep rumbling voice.

"Where it's going, things won't be...pretty."

"Present company excluded of course."

Haephestus chuckled, he was used to his...less than appealing appearance. Jaded was he that he could even joke about it.

"Just hurry up."

The new arrival answered like a kid denied his favorite toy.

The other good thing about poking fun at himself, was that others would be left with no ammunition to do the same.

Very quickly, Haephestus completed the final piece. And only then did he turn around to face his kin.

Ares. The God of War.

Just like everytime they encountered each other, Haephestus stomped down on the feelings of jealousy that gripped him.

Ares had their father's mighty body and powerful gaze, their mother's sheer godly splendor and attractiveness. Especially her luscious hair.

While her's was golden, Ares' was silver, just like Father's beard.

Standing at 6'8, he might not have been the tallest God ever but he was one of the most imposing.

With shredded arms the size of tree trunks and a chest that was broader than should have been aesthetically pleasing, yet was.

The aura and presence around the God of War, spoke of undeniable strength. And battle lust.

To top it off, was the golden armor he wore, a blood-red cape attached to his shoulders, sashaying in a non-existent breeze.

He was the very text book definition of a God. Power, arrogance and grace.

Basically...everything Haephestus wasn't. But the latter had had millenia to come to terms with that.

After all, everything he wasn't made him everything he was. A creator. An artist. An architect. A builder. A visionary.

Ares could only destroy. Haephestus could create.

Polar opposites.

"Well?"

His brother's impatience got the better of him. Enough that he was now looming over the work bench.

Haephestus HATED whenever someone did that.

Thankfully...

"The final piece is done."

The God of the forge declared, holding up a wide black chest piece.

Ares said nothing, merely gazing at the piece with an imperious smile slowly spreading across his face.

Haephestus carried the chest piece to a different section of the forge, where the rest of the suit, Ares had commissioned awaited to be assembled.

A massive 8 foot exoskeleton with no discernible weaknesses across it's metallic chasis.

"It's..."

Ares begun.

"Glorious?"

Haephestus cut in derisively. He ain't seen nothing.

"Just wait until I secure this..."

Saying so, he slotted the Chest piece onto the suit of armor. With a click, the latches adjusted perfectly, leaving behind an intimidating tool of war.

Its creator stepped back to admire his work.

"Now its perfect."

Haephestus sighed in satisfaction.

"The Osmium and Mithril alloy will conduct your Divinity much easier than-"

"Thank you Brother. Truly. But you're mistaken."

Ares interrupted, placing a hand on Haephestus' shoulder, turning him around so that they were face to face.

"The armor is not meant for me. I'm the God of war."

He stated as if it were an obvious thing.

"My body is a weapon in itself. Only one forged in war."

The mood in the forge immediately changed.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Haephestus blinked in confusion.

"I thought you needed the armor for you and father's millenial culling of the Elder Ones?"

Ares looked down with a shake of his head.

Then his body started trembling with laughter. Laughter that he couldn't hold in anymore. Laughter that filled the entire workshop.

"You...you don't get out much, do you Haephestus?"

Ares questioned, his chuckles dying out.

"I..."

Haephestus stammered, completely dumbfounded.

Ares straightened up, displaying the wide maniacal grin marring his features.

"Because if you did, you would know of the war the mortals wage. They call it the Great War. A war raging across the entire planet."

"Ares..."

Haephestus begun, a horrified look crossing his face.

"You..."

"Oh no no brother."

Ares held up his hands in an act of innocence.

"They started it on their own. Without my urging. Can you believe that?!"

He shook his head, the look in his eyes changing.

"Which is why I felt left out. I'm the God of War..."

He scoffed in offense.

"You'd think they'd involve me somewhat. Maybe a sacrifice or two, a prayer made to my glorious self. Or erect a statue...buuut nooo."

He bent down closer to Haephestus, their faces inches apart. And The latter couldn't help but shiver at the madness in his younger brother's eyes.

The shadows in the dimly lit forge seemed to grow more menacing, as Ares' presence seemed to tower over him, despite the fact they were now eye level with one another.

Eyes ablaze with a sinister fire, he spoke with conviction.

"These mortals, these pitiful insects, believe they comprehend WAR."

Ares' voice completely changed. If before it was deep and authoritative, now it was calm and chilling.

Ice-cold despite the heat thriving in the air.

Everything seemed to go quiet, all to allow him center stage. The star of a macabre show.

"They dance with their toys, crafting weapons of mass destruction with such arrogance. Little do they know, they play in realms they cannot fathom."

Haephestus opened his mouth but nothing came out.

A twisted glint played in Ares' eyes as he continued,

"They fancy themselves gods of war, meddling in divine affairs, attempting to usurp my very essence. But, oh, they have no concept of true war—the visceral brutality, the insatiable thirst for blood, the wails of the helpless. Hahahahahaha!"

Haephestus couldn't stomach that sick demented laugh. Worse was the glee Ares injected.

The God of the Forge found himself looking away, a grossed out expression on his face.

He'd never imagined that he could see True ugliness. Something that went deeper than the surface.

Unaware of the emotions he was inducing within his younger brother, Ares' voice grew darker, resonating with impending doom,

"They've birthed instruments of annihilation, but the day is coming when those very weapons will turn upon them, upon their families, their children. And in that moment, they will taste the bitter reality of their delusions."

He leaned closer to his brother's ears.

"I'll strip away their illusions, reveal the naked truth of war, its unrelenting horror. They strive to do my job, but they are mere pretenders!"

He raved.

"I shall unleash the tempest of chaos upon them, and they will witness the true glory of war – the raw, unbridled power that only Divinity such as I can wield."

Another cruel laugh echoed through the forge as Ares reveled in his malevolent vision. An almost orgasmic quality in his tone.

"I can't wait to see them writhe in despair, futilely grasping for salvation. In their pursuit of war, they've awakened the beast within me. All these years...I've been forced...to watch..."

He paused, chest raising in heavy breathing.

A wide palm landed on Haephestus' head, squeezing. A pressure that made the God of Blacksmiths wheeze fell upon him, constricting his chest.

His face was forcefully turned towards Ares. And he found himself staring at those mad eyes once again.

"I will show them the meaning of fear, the true face of a man who has stared into the abyss and found it staring back."

Ares whispered.

"And it will be glorious, Brother."

And...Haephestus believed him.

Then just as quickly, the pressure was gone and Haephestus fell to the floor on his knees, rubbing his chest.

The God of the Forge slowly turned his gaze up.

"You're Mad."

Ares chuckled, as if finding Haephestus' words funny.

"Mad? wrong. I'm evil. 'He' on the other hand..."

The God of War with malevolence leaking from his every pore, stepped aside, revealing someone behind him.

Clink!

Clink!

A figure just as large, limbs wrapped in divine chains that Haephestus himself had created, stepped out of the shadows- oozing with insanity.

One look and Haephestus paled.

"No! Impossible!"

Haephestus recoiled in shocked fear, falling on his butt and scrambling backwards.

Ares walked past the God of the forge, eyes on the Suit of Armor framed on the wall.

"And it just so happens that the Two of you have a score to settle."

The God of War added with a chuckle, palm stroking the chest of the suit of armor.

"No...no...wait! Zeus! Father!! Mother Hera!!...anyone! Hel- Glurk!!"

Ignoring Haephestus' agonized grunts, Ares narrowed a contented gaze at his new prize.

"I think I'll call you, Godkiller."

He announced, the eye sockets of the Armor lighting up as he branded it with his divinity.

A symbol depicting two crossed Axes appeared on the chest of the Armor.

"The perfect sheath for the perfect weapon."

He muttered to himself, spinning around on his heels to face said 'Weapon'

"Wouldn't you say so, Herakles?"

Looming over Haephestus' remains, body torn apart limb from limb, golden ichor covering his hands, Herakles remained silent.

The only thing keeping him from jumping at Ares and giving him the same treatment being the same crossed axe insignia glowing on his forehead.

The brand of the God of War.

"Perfect."

Ares grinned at the non-response. Dogs lived to serve after all, not share opinions.

"While they flounder about looking for me...you shall be wreaking havoc in my place. The God of War's Herald."