The sounds of Damian's footsteps attracted the attention of the War Lords. They looked over, their eyes becoming a notch gloomier as their Young Lord got nearer.
With his brows squinted, Damian ignored them all, his eyes fixated on the back of his father. The God sat on the very edge of the cliff, his crimson hair gaining a luster to it as the rays of Helios shone upon it.
Finally arriving, Damian didn't know what to say. He just stared at Ares' form for a long while, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, before he took a deep breath. He needed to…
"Oh, Valor? You're here." Ares beat him to it.
For a moment, Damian didn't know how to react. He could hear it in the War God's voice, the spiritlessness, the indifference, the languidness, and yet, layered beneath it… was rage. A rage so boundless it could drown the whole world.
"Yes, father." replied Damian.
"Come, come have a seat beside me."
