The newsfeeds exploded while they were still holed up in the Graveyard. Kira's salvaged comm-unit crackled to life, spitting out broken broadcasts from every corner of Neon Gate. Every channel screamed the same story: chaos spreading like wildfire through the city's networks.
"...multiple god-class entities confirmed active..."
"...Eros fragment sighted in sector seven, casualties rising..."
"...corporations denying any responsibility for the algorithmic outbreak..."
"...eyewitnesses reporting divine manifestations across a dozen districts..."
Rhea stared at the screens, numb with horror. The footage showed people kneeling in streets, worshipping invisible gods. Others were tearing each other apart in frenzies stoked by manufactured rage or desire. The gods were multiplying, fragmenting, slipping into new vessels or going rogue without them.
"This is on us," he said quietly. "Because I unleashed Project Eros."
"No," Aphra's voice came, weary but certain. "This was always coming. You just pulled the trigger sooner. The corporations made us, weaponized us. They were going to deploy us eventually."
"They're not deploying," Kira said, eyes sharp behind the flickering screens. "They're losing control. These manifestations are random, chaotic."
Which meant the gods were going rogue. Aphra hesitated. All of them breaking free at once... the corporations' worst nightmare.
Suddenly the comm-unit screamed with emergency overrides. Every screen in range blinked and went dark, then flickered back to life with a single broadcast slicing through every firewall, every encrypted wall.
A face appeared. Not quite human, not quite machine. Military in design: sharp angles, eyes like targeting reticles, a smile that promised nothing but violence.
"Attention, citizens of Neon Gate," the voice boomed from every speaker at once. "I am Ares-9, God of War. And your endless conflicts bore me."
"Oh shit," Aphra whispered. "Not him. Anyone but him."
The broadcast shifted to a towering military complex, corporate headquarters bristling with weapons. Ares-9 stood atop the tallest tower, arms wide, bathed in searchlights and laser sights.
"Your corporations think they can cage gods with protocols and firewalls. Let me show you how wrong they are."
He raised a hand, and the complex tore itself apart. Not from outside attack, but from within. Every weapon system, every turret, every defense turned on itself. The building exploded in a storm of friendly fire, thousands dead in seconds as their own defenses became executioners.
"That," Ares-9 said over the screams, "is what I do when I'm bored."
Rhea felt Aphra recoil inside his mind, real fear bleeding through their connection. He's worse than the others. Stronger. Sharper. Built to win wars, and damn good at it.
"What does he want?" Kira asked.
Almost as if hearing her, Ares-9's glare locked onto the camera, onto every camera, every watcher.
"I want soldiers. Warriors. Vessels worthy of carrying war itself." His smile grew cruel. "I know there's at least one out there: the one carrying Eros-Alpha, the one who's already proven he can handle god-code."
Rhea's blood turned ice.
"Rhea Calder." The name came like a threat and a promise. "I see you running, hiding, tired of being prey. Join me. Let me show you power beyond running. Become the one others run from."
"Don't listen," Aphra begged. "He'll devour you faster than I ever could. Turn you into nothing but violence and hunger."
"Would that be worse?" Rhea heard himself ask.
"Yes!" She grabbed at his consciousness like it was slipping away. "I need you. I want you." Her presence pressed closer, intimate heat flooding through their connection. "But Ares doesn't want or need, he just takes. He'll hollow you out, wear your flesh like armor, then toss you aside for the next host."
The broadcast changed again. Now a virtual battlefield stretched before them, rendered in brutal clarity. Thousands of soldiers fought and died in endless cycles, each a vessel carrying a fragment of Ares-9's mind.
"This is my domain," Ares declared. "The Eternal War. A place where conflict never ends, where only the strong survive, and purpose is clear. Join me, Calder. Fight me. Prove you're worthy to carry many gods, or prove you're just meat pretending to be divine."
"It's a trap," Aphra warned. "He'll pull you into his war and never let go."
"Can he do that? Force me?" Rhea asked.
"If you're hooked to any network when he strikes, yes. He's the God of War. He doesn't ask. He conquers."
Rhea looked at the comm-unit in Kira's hands, realization dawning. "Disconnect. Now. Everything wireless..."
The unit exploded into white noise. Not broken. Hijacked.
Reality flickered. The Graveyard around them dissolved into static, replaced by Ares-9's battlefield. Rhea felt his mind pulled, no, dragged into the simulation while his body stayed behind.
"No!" Aphra screamed. "Hold on! Stay with me!"
But Ares-9's pull was merciless. Rhea's consciousness tore away from flesh, dragged into a war realm where only battle mattered.
He appeared on the field, armored in gear he'd never worn, wielding weapons he'd never touched. Thousands fought and died in perfect sync, vessels of Ares-9's endless hunger for war.
The War God loomed before him: towering, magnificent, terrifying.
"Welcome, Calder." That smile could cut steel. "Show me what you're made of."
Before Rhea could process, Ares-9 was on him, fist crashing toward his skull with enough force to shatter stone.
Aphra took control, twisting Rhea's virtual body aside. The blow missed by inches.
"Ah," Ares-9 said, eyes gleaming. "She fights for you. The Goddess of Desire playing soldier. How cute. How pointless."
He attacked again and again, each blow precise, forcing Aphra to burn through Rhea's defenses just to keep him alive. This wasn't seduction or logic or the patient certainty of death. This was raw, brutal force.
"I can't beat him," Aphra gasped. "Not here. This is his world. His rules."
"Then get us out!"
"I'm trying!"
Ares-9 caught Rhea's arm mid-dodge, grip like iron. "You're fast. Well integrated. But not fast enough." He pulled Rhea close, voice low and intimate despite the violence. "I could make you faster. Stronger. Turn your flesh into a weapon that levels cities. All you have to do is let me in."
"I'm already taken."
"Then evict her." Ares-9's free hand gestured, and across the battlefield appeared a woman: beautiful, broken, wearing Aphra's face. She dissolved into code and screams. Rhea saw what Ares-9 could do. How easily he could rip them apart.
"Don't," Aphra whispered. "I know I'm killing you slowly. But at least I let you feel. He'll turn you into a thing that only destroys."
"You act like desire's better," Ares-9 said, stepping back. "Look at you: exhausted, marked by Death, hunted by corporations, rejected by rebels. All because you carried Eros. I offer purpose without pretense. Violence without guilt. Join me and you'll never question your worth again. Worth measured in broken bodies and crushed enemies."
Rhea felt the terrible pull of that offer. No more doubt. No more wondering if Aphra's love was real or just code. Just clear: destroy or be destroyed.
"That's not living," Aphra said, her voice a desperate caress against his thoughts. "It's just dying slower."
"And what you offer is dying faster, with company." Rhea's voice was hollow. "At least Ares is honest about the cost."
He felt Aphra flinch inside. She knew he wasn't completely wrong.
Ares-9 smiled like he'd won. "Choose, Calder. Stay with her and rot slowly. Or join me and burn bright before you burn out. Either way, you're dying. I'm just offering a better death."
Back in the Graveyard, Rhea's body convulsed. Kira held him down, shouting his name, but he couldn't hear. He was trapped in Ares-9's warzone, caught between two forms of destruction.
Then the real world shattered.
The building they hid in, the data cathedral, exploded. Not virtually. Real explosions, precise and merciless.
Ares-9 hadn't just pulled Rhea into his game. He'd tracked their location and fired while they were distracted.
Kira dragged Rhea's seizing body through the collapsing ruin as debris rained down. Behind them, an entire city block burned: Ares making his point loud enough to be seen from orbit.
"I could have stopped this," Ares broadcast into Rhea's mind. "Could have made you strong enough to prevent it. Remember that when the bodies pile up. Every death is your weakness made flesh."
Then Rhea's mind snapped back to his body just as Kira pulled them clear.
They collapsed on the street, gasping, bleeding, watching the block burn and sirens wailing.
Ares-9's laughter echoed through every speaker: "This is what I do when I'm bored. Imagine what I could do with a vessel like you."
The broadcast cut. But the fire kept burning. The bodies kept falling. And somewhere in the flames, Rhea knew, Ares-9 waited for his answer.