Stormy clouds swirled in the skies, the thunderous booms of flashing lightning echoing from within them. The earth beneath was tainted crimson by the roaring flames of the War God, and it burned and crackled with furious momentum.
Zeus stood high in the skies, his body enveloped by sparks of lightning that left popping sounds in their wake, trying to exert dominance on the War God below. Ares watched on with little to no reaction, but anyone with half a brain could notice the rage of the God painting the air around him in a haze of crimson.
Shaking his head slightly, Ares sighed, then leapt into the air at a speed that left shockwaves spiralling across the ground. He had abandoned his weapon, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. It appeared Hephaestus had tinkered with the great sword, laying a quite subtle trap in wait for him. Realizing this, the War God didn't hesitate to dispose of it.
