(1/2)
***
[Location: New York, USA]
Ares exhaled through his nose.
"…You're irritating," he said. "Do you know that?"
"I've been told."
A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
For a heartbeat—just one—the pressure eased.
But—
Ares' grin widened then—slow, predatory, satisfied.
"It would've been just like you said," he continued, crimson eyes boring into mine, "if you hadn't devoured a piece of my divinity."
The world… stilled.
Not froze. Not shattered.
It listened.
The fog at Ares' feet thickened again, no longer playful, no longer casual. This time it crawled with weight—compressed war, distilled conflict, the aftermath of a thousand battlefields condensed into breath and will.
My Observation Grid spasmed violently.
Not with futures.
With confirmation.
So he did notice.
Of course he did.
A god of war wouldn't miss something like that.
I coughed, blood slick and metallic in my mouth, and forced a breath through cracked ribs. "That's a strong accusation."
