Steel clashed, claws scraped, and the battlefield trembled beneath the weight of chaos.
Alex twisted, dragging his sword in a wide arc that sliced through the chest of a beast. It dropped with a pained gurgle, vanishing beneath the trampling feet of its kin. He exhaled slowly, eyes scanning, mind processing faster than any human should—faster than even he could explain.
It wasn't magic. It wasn't instinct. It was something deeper. Something wrong.
And then he saw them.
A group of soldiers—ones who had slipped away from the main fight—now running back toward the battlefield.
Their armour was bloodstained and dented. Their faces carried pure terror.
Everyone else saw confused, panicked deserters returning to battle.
Only Alex saw the thing chasing them.
A towering silhouette emerged behind them through the ash-choked air—hulking, silent, and predatory. It moved without effort, its form flickering in and out of the smoke like a phantom. Alex's eyes caught the truth: It wasn't just chasing them. It was devouring them.
The beast's jaws parted wide—wider than seemed possible. One by one, the fleeing soldiers vanished. Not screamed. Not fought.
Erased.
Even the lesser beasts in its path—ravenous creatures themselves—were not spared. It devoured everything.
To the rest, it looked like soldiers scrambling into position.
But Alex watched the death behind them and said nothing.
Not out of fear—but because something else now screamed in his bones.
The others—Ciara, Jack, Peter—saw the beast moments later, lumbering out from the shadows.
Ciara's daggers slipped slightly in her grip. Peter's breath hitched.
Then it landed.
When the creature's feet hit the ground, the world changed.
The God of War turned, narrowing his eyes, confused. No panic. Just recognition.
And in that instant, something deep inside him stirred. A word surfaced from a memory he shouldn't have.
Paragon.
A creature, not god. Not mortal. But a predator of both.
He cracked his neck. Muscles tensed. The time for restraint had ended.
Ciara took one step back, uncertain. Jack did the same.
Then the beast's gaze turned on them.
And the air froze.
It wasn't a spell. It wasn't divine. It was a presence.
Its aura settled over the field like cold tar. Paralyzing. Suffocating.
Ciara couldn't move. Jack's sword dropped an inch. Peter clenched his jaw, sweat breaking along his brow.
They had faced death before. But this was something different.
This was fear.
Only two moved.
Alex, gripping his massive sword, stepped forward—his instincts screaming, his mind sharpening. He didn't know why. He didn't remember the beast. But something told him it had to be stopped.
And the God of War, already walking toward it, cracked his knuckles.
He struck first.
A thunderous fist connected with the beast's torso, forcing it back a dozen paces. The ground trembled. The beast staggered—and then Alex moved, slashing through its shoulder with brutal precision.
Steel met flesh. Bone shattered.
The beast howled
It struck back, claws like spears lashing out. Alex was thrown back, his body skidding through the rubble. The God of War caught the next blow on his bracers, driving his foot into the beast's chest and sending it crashing through a scorched pillar.
And then it was chaos.
The God of War fought with raw, overwhelming power—his fists breaking stone and scale alike. Alex darted in and out like a wraith, landing strikes and dodging death by fractions of a second. Together, they pressed the beast hard.
The others watched, frozen, not from cowardice—but awe.
Then the world changed again.
A black portal spiralled open in the skies.
It tore.
Reality bent around it like water around a drain.
The beast stopped. Its head turned slowly. It backed away.
Everyone else stood stunned.
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