The Last God

The facility sat thirty miles outside Chicago, disguised as a private medical center.

Kara killed the motorcycle's lights a quarter mile out, coasting to a stop behind a cluster of trees. Elena and Marcus climbed off, studying the building through the darkness.

"Looks normal," Marcus said.

"That is the point." Kara pulled binoculars from her jacket. "Three floors. David Park is in the basement. Guards rotate every four hours. The next shift change is in twenty minutes."

"How do you know all this?" Elena asked.

"I have been watching this place for weeks." Kara handed her the binoculars. "See the parking lot? Seven cars. Five belong to staff. Two are personal vehicles for demigod guards. The silver sedan is Deimos's. He is here tonight."

Marcus felt the mark pulse. Danger. Close. But also something else. Anticipation. The part of him that was Ares wanted to face Deimos. Wanted violence.

He pushed the feeling down.

"We cannot fight a god," Marcus said. "Even with three of us."

"We do not fight him," Kara said. "We sneak past him. In and out before he knows we were here."

"And if we are caught?" Elena asked.

Kara's smile was cold. "Then we improvise."

They approached through the woods, staying low. The facility's exterior looked clean, professional, but Marcus could feel wrongness emanating from it. The mark responded to divine energy, and this place reeked of it.

At the fence line, Kara pulled out a small device. "Divine ward breaker. It cost me three months' salary. Better work."

She pressed it against the fence. Green symbols flared, then faded. A section of the chain link went dark.

"Thirty second window," Kara said, cutting through the metal. "Move."

They slipped through. Marcus expected alarms, spotlights, chaos. Nothing happened. The facility remained quiet.

Too quiet.

"Something is wrong," Elena whispered.

"Agreed," Kara said. "But we are committed now. Service entrance is around back."

They crept along the building's edge. Through the windows, Marcus saw normal hospital rooms. Patients sleeping. Nurses making rounds. Everything looked legitimate.

The service entrance was locked. Kara picked it in fifteen seconds.

Inside, fluorescent lights hummed. The hallway smelled like antiseptic and something else. Something that made Marcus's skin crawl.

"Basement access is through there," Kara pointed to a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only."

Elena tried the handle. Locked. This time with a keypad.

"I cannot pick electronic locks," Kara admitted.

"Let me try." Elena examined the keypad, then pulled out her phone. She ran some kind of program, holding the device near the lock. Numbers flickered across her screen.

"Where did you learn that?" Marcus asked.

"Ten years as a detective teaches you things." The lock beeped. Green light. "Also, being Hephaestus's daughter helps with technology."

They descended stairs into darkness. Emergency lighting cast everything in red. The smell grew stronger. Not antiseptic anymore. Blood and fear and old magic.

The basement was not a medical facility. It was a prison.

Cells lined both walls, reinforced with iron and carved symbols. Most were empty, but in three of them, Marcus saw figures. Humans, barely conscious, covered in the same marks that decorated his own skin.

"What is this place?" Marcus breathed.

"A testing ground," a voice said from the darkness.

They spun. A man emerged from the shadows at the corridor's end. Tall, handsome in a cruel way, wearing an expensive suit now stained with something dark. His eyes glowed red.

Deimos.

"Sister," he said, nodding to Kara. "I wondered when you would finally come."

"Where is David Park?" Kara demanded, her hand moving toward her weapon.

"The security guard? Cell seven. Still breathing, if that is what you are asking." Deimos smiled. "I have been keeping him fresh. Never know when you might need a witness to accidentally overdose or hang himself in his cell."

"You murdered our father," Kara said, her voice shaking with rage.

"I freed us," Deimos corrected. "Ares was weak. Sentimental. He actually cared about mortals." He laughed, bitter and sharp. "A war god who hated war. An embarrassment. The Vesper offered me real power. All I had to do was create an opening during Crimson Night."

"You betrayed him," Marcus said, feeling Ares's rage building inside him. "Your own father."

"And you stole his essence," Deimos shot back. "Do not lecture me about betrayal, mortal. You walk around wearing my father's power like a costume. At least I earned my position."

The mark exploded with heat. Marcus felt power flooding through him, golden light spilling from his skin. Not now. He could not lose control now.

"I see the mark is unstable," Deimos observed. "Perfect. The Vesper will be pleased when I deliver you. Dead or alive, she does not care. Though personally, I prefer dead."

He moved fast. Impossibly fast. His fist caught Marcus in the chest, sending him flying backward. Marcus crashed into a wall hard enough to crack concrete.

Elena fired her weapon. Deimos caught the bullet in midair and crushed it. "Daughter of Hephaestus. Your father was easier to kill than expected. Burned like any other god when I stabbed him."

Elena screamed and charged. Deimos dodged effortlessly, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her down. She went limp.

"Elena!" Marcus struggled to rise, but his body would not respond. Ribs broken. Maybe worse.

Kara attacked with twin daggers, moving like a trained killer. Deimos met her blade for blade, matching her speed, superior in strength. They fought through the corridor in a blur of metal and divine power.

"You cannot win, sister," Deimos said, pressing his advantage. "I am terror incarnate. You are just daddy's disappointment."

Kara's guard dropped for half a second. That was all Deimos needed. His blade opened her shoulder, deep and brutal. She stumbled back, bleeding.

Deimos raised his hand. Energy crackled around his fingers, dark and hungry. "Time to end the family reunion."

Marcus felt the mark screaming. Felt Ares's rage demanding release. Felt his humanity slipping away as divine power took over.

Let it, a voice whispered in his mind. Let go. Become what you were meant to be.

Marcus made his choice.

He stopped fighting the mark.

Golden light erupted from every inch of his body. The broken ribs healed instantly. Power filled him like water filling a cup, then overflowing, flooding, drowning everything else.

Marcus rose, and he was no longer entirely Marcus.

Ares's essence had awakened fully.

"Deimos," Marcus said, his voice echoing with divine resonance. "You murdered your father. Killed innocents. Betrayed everything the war god stood for."

Deimos's confident smile faltered.

"Now," Marcus continued, golden fire wrapping around his fists, "you face his judgment."

The basement exploded with light and fury.

The real battle had finally begun.