The air on Olympus thickened, growing heavy with the promise of annihilation. The playful condescension was gone from Ares's posture, replaced by a stillness that was more terrifying than any roar. Through the crack in his helmet, that single eye burned with the promise of eternal pain.
Kratos didn't wait. He never did. He was a predator, and a predator strikes when its prey is stunned. He lunged forward, the Blades of Chaos whistling as they carved through the air, aiming to bury themselves in the gap in the god's armor.
Ares didn't even bother with his sword. He simply flicked his wrist.
A wall of invisible force hit Kratos like a mountain. It lifted him off his feet and hurled him across the arena. He smashed through a marble pillar, the stone exploding into dust and rubble. He tumbled across the ground, his world a blur of pain and spinning sky.
