What was I thinking coming here?

Ares quickly banished the thought from his head and continued to move forward down the dark stone corridor. He had to keep reminding himself that the all-powerful God of War does not feel fear, nor pain, nor will ever succumb to death. He did not even feel fear when Wonder Woman had held the Blade of Hephaestus to his neck. Even if he had been slain that day, he would have risen again. War, conflict, and death fueled him and gave him power, and the world could not exist without those things. He steeled his resolve, reminding himself of his omnipotence time-and-time again, which is how he was able to keep moving down the hallway towards the chamber at the end.

He briefly cursed at the thought, remembering that day he and his demon hoards had battled against Wonder Woman and her Amazon forces. He gritted his teeth, remembering that if it had not been for the timely arrival of the Justice League, Themyscira would be a smoking crater and the Amazon Queen Hippolyta and her daughters would be in chains somewhere, used only for his carnal amusements.

Instead he had been punished by Zeus, the scar of his father's lightning still running up the left-side of his face. Although he was a god, Ares did not suffer from vanity as his brothers Apollo and Hermes did, constantly obsessing over their appearance to better seduce nymphs and mortal women. He constantly smelled of death, his body caked in the ash of a thousand burned corpses, and his armour permanently stained with the spray of both mortal and immortal lifeblood. He had no shortage of women in his bed, because as grotesque as he was, he was sometimes a welcome change for some of the goddesses, as Aphrodite had been a frequent guest beneath his sheets. The dichotomy of love and war brought together and for a moment there could be peace, but it never lasted. So the scars upon his visage did not anger Ares because it made his face look slightly different, it angered him because it was a constant reminder of his failure. He had endured too many years with the scarring, it had made him desperate and a desperate God of War was a dangerous thing indeed.

Ares knew he was desperate because nothing else would have brought him to this hallway, because the truth was that the God of War did feel fear, he just had not up until that moment. He studied the strange symbols on the hallway walls, the language unknown to him, but he recognized the images of battles past and the images of large creatures being worshiped by much smaller mortals. He was all too accustomed to that, but this was different, he was about to literally court violence and chaos. He should be having the time of his life, that he was about to bring about death and destruction on a level he never had before or had even dreamed of doing.

He briefly allowed himself to admire the Greek heroes of old that he had fought both alongside and against, now that he understood their fears in battle all too well. For the first time in his long life, Ares was required to take a risk and to show himself that he was not a coward at heart, because even though he knew that the evil force he was about to speak to face-to-face had the power to permanently kill him, he still moved forward, driven by his resolve for vengeance. He would rain fire down on the Amazon homeland and on Olympus as well and he was willing to pay any price that was asked of him.

Ares took a deep breath as he emerged from the darkened hallway into a much larger chamber adorned with massive piles of gold and gems that would make even Zeus jealous. Along the walls were beautifully woven and painted tapestries depicting life from that point in history, perfectly preserved despite being thousands of years old. Along with all the treasure, Ares' divine senses immediately picked up on the supernatural forces that were literally soaking the air with ancient magic. He briefly had to consider that he was almost completely ignorant of the proper incantations to wake the creature that most likely lay dormant within the chamber, however he had expected to see a casket, a coffin, even an urn that would indicate someone was buried here.

He felt a breeze in the air which was odd as there was nothing down here that would cause a draft of any kind. He watched as the breeze lazily made its way around the room, lighting torches along the wall in multiple bursts of flame. He turned to his right and watched in amazement as some of the strange symbols along the wall began to shift, morphing themselves into the Greek that Ares understood.

The debt must be paid in blood

Now this Ares understood without a moment's hesitation. He actually found himself feeling slightly better as he unsheathed the dagger at his waist before proceeding to slice open his palm with it, reveling in the pain that it caused. He was the God of War, he lived for pain and suffering, and as he could not usually feel the pain, he particularly enjoyed that he could see what the Hephaestus-crafted weapon could do to himself. He did not consider himself a masochist...he was masochism incarnate. It was part of the reason why he engaged in a relationship with Aphrodite, he hated her and all that she stood for, and yet he couldn't help but find himself drawn to her.

He dismissed the brief thought of Aphrodite and placed his bloody hand on the wall where the inscription had changed. He immediately regretted that decision as he felt himself robbed of a certain extent of his divine power, causing pain to rip through his body, making him cry out in pure agony before being brutally thrown backward from the wall. He shuddered in a heap, his whole being on fire. He reached up and was surprised to find tears coming from his blood-shot eyes. He could have stayed on the floor and waited for the pain to subside, but the defiant god fought his way to his feet, finally finding his voice and choking out his rebuttal;

"I am Ares! I am War! I am Death! Reveal yourself spirit now!"

Ares had already made many mistakes that day, but attempting to call out the dark force that had managed to hurt a god was most likely the worst decision he had ever made up until that point in his extremely long lifespan. He immediately felt a chill run up his spine, causing him to involuntarily shiver. He felt weak and tired, completely drained, and he was beginning to think that he should cut his losses and just leave, find some other way to bring fire to Olympus.

"You are nothing godling"

A dark voice rang out through the chamber, a voice that sounded like death come to life. Ares whipped his head around to find the source of the voice and watched unmoving in horror as the blood on the wall shifted into columns of thick black smoke that began to move together along the floor, making their way towards what Ares now noticed was a massive ornate throne sitting atop the highest pile of treasure.

"You have made a grievous error in coming here, thinking you could ask favour of me"

Despite his unnatural fear Ares still managed to find his voice yet again, this time allowing some of his cunning to enter into his speech, as he began to remember why he had even come to this unholy crypt in the first place.

"I come to you to ask for your aide Lord. I require assistance dealing with a persistent annoyance and I am prepared to offer anything to accomplish those means"

Ares bowed before the moving smoky columns that were approaching the golden throne, and had begun to take on the shape of a large creature that briefly caused him further unease noticing the initial immense size of the yet fully formed apparition.

"You have nothing I want. Chaos. Death. These are my domain and in this world they are plentiful"

Ares had been ready for that response, he knew this creature's history and what he wanted. He was the God of War and Strategy, there was no way in hell he was not coming prepared, especially for this.

"She has found a way to awaken him"

Ares did not have to elaborate any further, he knew the creature before him knew exactly what he was talking about and if he had any doubts, they were removed the moment those words left him. He found himself knocked back and slammed into the wall with a brutal force that actually knocked the wind out of him, driving him to his knees and violently coughing up blood.

"Well that was naughty" Ares said to himself, wiping his lips and lifting his head to watch as the smoke finally took on its final form.

"By Zeus..."

It had the head of a jackal, fierce teeth and sharp pointed ears. Blood red eyes looked straight through Ares and into his immortal soul, living storms of souls that he had taken over many thousands of years. Its body was that of a strongly built man, muscles viciously cut and veins pulsing with blood made of liquid fire. The skin covering it was unnatural, the colour of heavy storm clouds, and Ares could not help but think of his father as lightning seemed to flash across its chest, almost like a hurricane was trying to rip its way out of the body.

It was chaos-incarnate, a walking storm given the form of man, the embodiment of violence.

He was Set, the Egyptian God of Chaos, the Lord of Red and Disorder.

"What do you speak of godling?! He is dead! The magic is not strong enough to revive him!"

Ares allowed himself to smile inside, now allowing the powerful deity before him to become any angrier than he already made him. He had known exactly what he was getting into when he entered the Egyptian tomb in the first place.

The story of Set was of the content of legends and stories now told to children. Jealous of his brother Osiris, God of the Underworld for marrying the beautiful Isis, he had tricked the god into sealing himself in a massive box before brutally mutilating him. Briefly Set had believed that he had finally defeated his brother having scattered his body parts across the world, and would finally have Isis for himself, but he had not counted on the deep love that Isis had for Osiris. After many years Isis had recovered all the missing pieces of his body, and reassembled him, turning him into a living mummy, but he could not set foot on the earth as he was still dead, so he was confined to the Underworld, where he now remained, ruling over it with Isis at his side, while Set remained alive and able to move about in the mortal realm.

Ares had only recently found out from Black Adam that Isis had found a way to return Osiris to true life, giving him the ability to walk on the earth once again, and further amplifying Set's failure at having tried to kill his brother.

"Teth-Adam, your old Egyptian champion, still lives. It was he who told me where to find you, and he who informs me that Isis is presently on her way to visit the Grecian island of Themyscira to ask for permission from the Amazon Queen there and also the Olympian pantheon if she can perform the ancient ritual there that is necessary to return her husband to the life that you took from him"

Ares watched as Set's skin seemed to boil upon hearing this news and briefly feared for his life, knowing that Set was near-all-powerful, most likely at the same degree of Zeus, if not higher.

"Teth-Adam? I have not heard that name in many millennia. Very well godling, what boon do you ask of me in exchange for this information?"

Despite the fact that he was the embodiment of chaos, Ares knew that the Egyptian god before him was a practical and cunning being. He had given him information that Set had deemed satisfactory and therefore the laws of Ra dictated that he offer Ares something in return to balance the scales.

"I want to help you lay waste to the island and bring siege to Mount Olympus. I will put my army at your disposal my Lord Set and we will set fire to this world. We will ensure that Osiris never rises from his underground prison"

Ares watched as the storms quieted on the god's body, as the jackal's face took on that of a twisted grin.

"What do you get out of this Greek God of War?"

Ares finally allowed himself to smile and spoke the words that had been worth the risk of coming here.

"The death of Wonder Woman and the Justice League".

A/N: Fluff takes a break as the evil awakens! Next up it's off to Smallville as Clark visits his mother before heading off to Themyscira. For those comic-book aficionados like myself, please note that the Isis I reference above is not the one that Black Adam loves, but the Egyptian goddess and wife to Osiris.