A/N: For anyone who hasn't played the game by now, I've been obliged to mark this chapter as a spoiler chapter for all of you so you'll be able to get enough background info on Kratos and his universe. This fic will be a multiple x-over, primarily GOW game , Hercules TLJ, Xena, and more as I see fit. Also take note that I've spliced actual game dialogue and changed some of them to fit. I hope you all like it.
God(s) of War
Chapter 2a
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Forty minutes ago:
Giles was hurrying towards Ethan's shop at the best speed possible he could coax from his car and through the chaos that littered the streets. After having heard the whole story from Willow. Imagine his non-surprise that it was his old "friend" Ethan was where they bought their costumes from, well, he was definitely going to have more than a few words with his old colleague.
And he was also a little disturbed at the costume Ethan sold to Xander. Kratos was a real historical figure that helped save and rebuild the ancient city of Athens when the god of war went on a rampage. Records had it that Kratos was in the service of the Greek pantheon, trying to atone for the sins he caused. It was said that he was once the favored of Ares, god of war, conquering most of the ancient world long before the world had even heard of Alexander the Great. In one of his campaigns, due to the machinations of Ares, Kratos unwittingly slaughtered his own family. Realizing what he had done, he foreswore to oppose Ares's growing bloodlust, putting himself into the employ of the rest of the Greek pantheon for atonement. As part of his curse and search for redemption, the ashes of his wife and child became permanently fastened to his entire body, giving rise to the title: "The Ghost of Sparta" as he was literally a dead man walking. His last recorded quest for the gods was to save Athens from the wrath of his former master, Ares. He succeeded, but at a great price. There was nothing more after that, Giles thought to himself as it was widely speculated that Kratos had sacrificed himself in order to succeed in his final task.
Rousing himself from his musings, he parked outside of the Ethan's shop. His very being was tingling as he sensed a very high-level spell still in effect. He eyed the broken front door with a worried glance and stepped forward with trepidation.
The shockwave of energy being disrupted so violently blew him back out of the door the same moment he set foot inside. Landing unceremoniously with a loud groan, he picked himself up and marshaled whatever mystic energy he had for a confrontation with his former colleague. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight that now lay before him. Rupert Hellsing Giles felt the world come crashing down on him as he took in the horror before him.
Ethan Rayne, chaos mage par excellence, lay on a pool of his own blood on the floor by the wall. Most of his innards were exposed to the open air; his entire torso resembled so much like a carved beef at a meat packing plant. A few feet near the back of the store he could see the young man he was starting to think of as a son wearing the remnant of a spartan costume, retching on the floor, face pale and in shock. Blood adorning the fake plastic blades chained to his arms were the only evidence that it was Kratos – not Xander – had been the one to take his revenge against the chaos mage and banished the spell.
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After Xander had had enough of retching, he tried to stand up and was rewarded with such a feeling of nausea as pain exploded inside his head. His battle-fatigued body could no longer stand the strain, so it did what any normal body would do; it seized up and shut down.
Meaning he would have fallen down and drowned in his own bile if Giles hadn't quickly stopped him from doing so.
Lifting the young man up, he laid Xander on one of the couches in the back room. Once done, he did a spot check on the lad to see if he had suffered any physical trauma while possessed. Finding none, he once again carried Xander out of the shop and into the passenger side of his vehicle, securing him and driving out of there as fast and as safe as possible without jarring the young man beside him.
He could only pray that this was only a one-time thing, the nightmares of past sins the ancient Spartan supposedly had were not to be taken lightly, and if the boy had them now as well, then the damage to his inner psyche would be irreparable.
He should have saved his prayers for it only fell on deaf ears this night.
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While Xander's body was simply "sleeping" to recover from the night's activities, his mind was another matter - countless images of a life he knows isn't his but also was in a way "his" keep flashing by….
Xander/Kratos remembers the harsh desert sands, how he and his brother were taken from them at an early age to train. And in trying to seed out the weak from the strong, he made sure to survive at all odds. Unfortunately for them, he and his brother were separated for his brother was found to be weaker. And so he toiled day and night, trying to get strong enough till he could one day seek out his brother.
Over the years, Xander/Kratos lost count of the campaigns and small wars he took part of. He grew in the ranks for one so young, for a time, he even joined the ranks of Xena's army only to leave after the Warrior princess changed her ways. By the time he was a captain, he was already married to a woman of such strong will and who bore him a daughter, by then he was also given command of fifty soldiers.
In the following years, his army grew to the thousands. In one of the campaigns, he came across strange barbarians that hail beyond the barren wastelands. In that instant, his mighty army were not prepared for the sheer savagery and brutality the barbarians had at their disposal. At worst, they were more than the spartans could ever be.
His army was losing! Facing defeat was not acceptable, so with a desperate cry, he called on his patron: ARES, the god of war.
Time stopped as the heavens opened and out stepped the mighty god of war. Ares saw before him, a man with the makings of a god. A man whose raw potential must not be wasted, and it couldn't have been better if he had planned all of this himself.
And maybe he had.
"What would you have me do, mortal?" The god asked.
"Ares," Xander/Kratos said, pledging his allegiance. "Destroy my enemies, and my life is yours. From this day forward, I shall carry forth your will!"
Ares laughed. "Granted." He said, "But no avatar of mine shall be without a true weapon of war!"
Summoning his harpies to fetch something for him, he sent them to go beyond the fires of Hades and into the great void of chaos.
Xander/Kratos stared in wonderment when the harpies returned, for they carried with them, chained blades of such a design that he had never seen before.
"These," Ares said by way of explanation as he gave them to Xander/Kratos. "Are the blades of chaos. Mystically forged in the deepest pits of Hades and chaos, only a few such weapons exist that a mortal can wield."
And then the chains wrapped themselves to Xander/Kratos's forearms; pain searing him to the very bones the mystic chains bonded to him. He grunted, but did not cry out, as the chains became his.
"Arise," Ares said, heralding the changing of Xander/Kratos's life forever. "My warrior!"
Then time sped back to normal as Ares used his powers to destroy the enemy army, granting Xander/Kratos automatic victory that day. And so, the army of the favored champion of the god of war grew as their fame spread. And Xander/Kratos's bloodlust equally matched his master's, conquering all he saw before him.
The being that was once solely Alexander Harris suddenly realized that each atrocity Xander/Kratos did, did more than overshadow the scourge of Europe's swath of destruction. It sickened him to the core, but he could not do more than watch the life that he did not live. The life that was now slowly becoming his, as his own merged with Kratos, the Spartan Champion of Ares.
The Xander Harris many knew was dying, for innocence as such will never make it through the horrors that soon unfolded.
As time went, Ares had Xander/Kratos and his army to destroy villages gathering Athena's favor. On one such attack run, he came across a village with a temple built to Athena, intent on burning it down, he strode forwards.
But as he drew closer, a sense of foreboding and no small amount of fear still him for the barest of instances.
The village oracle bared his way, saying: "Beware Kratos, the dangers in the temple are greater than you know."Saying nothing, he roughly shoved her out of the way. Kicking the temple doors down, he immediately set to work. Without even a conscious thought, he slaughtered everything in his path as he moved towards the altar. So blind was he in his bloodlust that he did not realize exactly who were the last two souls he cut down until the blood had stopped flying, and the red haze of a man gone mad suddenly stilled at the sight before him.
The only thing heard thereafter, was the tortured, anguished scream of a blackened conscience waking up for the first time since it had been burned. For before him - among the slain - lay the two most important things he possessed aside from his obsession with conquest.
His wife, and child.
Their lives destroyed by his two hands. It was then that he realized that the god who saved him – giving everything, was also the one who damned him – and taken everything. His soul cried for justice an eternity after that.
"ARES!" Xander/Kratos screamed long into the night.
"Ares, you will die for what you did this night."
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As the temple was slowly consumed in the flames of a funeral pyre, the former spartan moved to leave the accursed village, scattering his army to the four winds with his grief and rage till not a man under him was left.
The village oracle once again moved to bar his way, and this time, he stood before her, mute and dumb. "From this night forward," she began, "The mark of your terrible deeds will be visible to all. The ashes of your wife and child will remain fastened to your skin, never to be removed! And for you to remember it always for all eternity."
And from the heavens, the ashes of his cremated wife and child rained down on him, enveloping him, changing him. And with that curse, all would know him for the beast he had become, his skin white with the ash of his dead family. The ghost of Sparta had been born... A man who was the walking dead!And for the next ten years; as the nightmares of that day continually plagued him. He strove to atone for his sins, placing himself at the mercy of the gods. Becoming their champion, including Athena, the one being other than Hercules, whom Ares also hates.
But ten years was for naught. For no matter the task he did, or whatever wrong to set right, his sins were still unforgiven, and his ultimate desire was forever unfulfilled.
For he desired revenge, he wanted to kill a god.
He wanted to kill the god of war.
Ten years had passed. And then the gods called upon their champion once more for one last task. For Ares had decreed to lay waste to the ancient city of Athens.
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TBC
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A/N postcript: I do greatly apologize about the review submission thing. I have no idea it was locked. I'm kinda new at this so bear with me on my obvious blunders.
