Kara walked calmly through the large open gates of Myr, casting a small smirk, unseen beneath her hood, at the people staring at the sudden change in the weather, with worried expressions. Mere moments ago, the sky was blue and calm, while the warm sun showed down on the city, indicating another peaceful day was at hand; now, the sky was as black as night, save for the violent flashes of light that would periodically rip across it, followed by booming thunder that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her feet.

Once she was past the gate, Kara quickly made her way past the dozens of stalls set up on either side of the street. Vendors were screaming out to anyone who would listen about what they were selling, creating a chaotic throng that kept bumping into each other as Kara tried to make her way through.

As she made her way to the south of the city, Kara couldn't help but sneer as she looked about her surroundings with a weathered eye; the wealth of the city could be seen everywhere, from the brightly-dressed 'nobles' who strutted past her like peacocks, not even trying to hide their luxury, to the large and impressive manses that Kara could see in the distance.

For more generations than could be counted, this city had enriched itself on the blood and backs of slaves, men and women who were used, abused, and then tossed aside or murdered when they had nothing more to give to the 'masters' of this accursed city. That would all end today. Today, every slave from generations past who had had their dreams taken from them, who had been born with chains around their wrists, would be avenged, and those who thought themselves the masters would be lying dead in the mud before the sunset.

The thought brought a wicked smile to Kara's face as she continued on her way, keeping her head down and her hood up to avoid being noticed. By the time the sun set this day, all of Essos would know that a new god had come to this earthly plane and that Myr was but the first to taste his wrath. Kratos had judged the city of Myr and found her wanting, and soon she would die in glorious fire and bloodshed, and a new city would rise in her place; a better city, where slavery would never again be tolerated.

As Kara left the marketplace, the cacophony of noise finally fell away, leaving behind an eerie silence that slightly unnerved her. Rounding the following corner, Kara saw her destination in the distance, and her eyes blazed with anger and hatred.

It would seem that the so-called 'slave pens of Myr' had not changed since Kara had seen them fifty years prior, and as Kara stopped to stare, she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of disgust and despair, as if all those who had died within were calling out to her for vengeance—vengeance that was very near at hand.

The slave pens were little more than a prison. Standing like an angry red tower, hundreds of feet high, they housed the city's unsold slaves as well as the slaves used for the city's manual labor: dockworkers, carpenters, construction workers, etc.

As she drew closer to the entrance, Kara began to hear the noise growing again and felt her lip curl with disgust. It seemed even the incoming of such a violent storm couldn't stop the people of Myr from flocking to the slave pens, eager to see the newest product on sale.

The only entrance to the pens was a large gate with Unsullied guards standing at the ready on either side. As Kara stepped past the two guards, she felt their eyes on her for a moment before they turned their attention back to the front.

As Kara stepped into the yard, the first thing she noticed was the large crowd all standing before a raised platform where a man in an expensive-looking red robe, the slave auctioneer no doubt, was standing, holding a scroll and yelling something; beside him, a dark-skinned woman with long flowing ringlets of black hair, who couldn't have been more than twenty and was wearing a filthy brown slaves tunic, was standing with her head bowed in silent misery, thick heavy chains hanging from her wrists which bound them together.

Beside her, two Unsullied were standing with one of their hands on each of the girl's shoulders, in case she should try anything. The next thing Kara noticed was the score of Unsullied guards placed strategically around the square, their faces hidden beneath their helms and their spears held at the ready, just in case they needed to restore order.

The man in the red robe laughed at something that someone in the crowd shouted at him, and Kara watched with narrowed eyes as the girl visibly flinched at whatever was said.

"Don't worry, lass…" Kara whispered, "Soon, this entire city will pay for its cruelty, and you shall have a new lord to protect you."

It seemed that even though he was not here to witness what was happening, Kratos also shared Kara's disgust at what was going on, for at that moment, a truly awe-inspiring burst of lighting spread across the sky, creating a spiderweb-like pattern that made all noise in the square drop away in an instant as the people watched with shocked expressions; even the slave girl's mouth dropped open in awe at what she was seeing.

A moment later, an explosion of noise echoed around the square, causing dozens of people to scream in terror as a roll of thunder followed the lightning, causing the ground to literally shake beneath Kara's feet. As though realizing the danger they were all in, the auctioneer suddenly shouted that all sales for the day were closed before quickly hurrying down the wooden steps of the platform; a moment later, the Unsullied followed their master, dragging the girl with them as the crowd began to hurry out of the sudden pouring rain.

"People of Myr…" A voice suddenly called out from the heavens, causing Kara's head to shoot up; around her, hundreds of others did the same, seemingly frozen in place, their mouth hanging open in shock as they heard a literal voice rain down from above, "For time immemorial, you have grown rich off of the sweat and blood of those you have deemed lesser than yourselves… No more. Your city's ledger has been tallied, and the weight of your transgressions has crushed the scales of justice; by my hand, the penalty of destruction shall be executed, and your people shall be scattered to the winds…"

Another awe-inspiring blast of lightning followed these words, and Kara couldn't stop the beaming smile that spread across her face as the people descended into outright panic. Screaming and fighting one another, they all tried to get out of the square at the same time, creating a dam of people that only grew worse as more people pushed and shoved while the Unsullied guards tried to restore order.

Seeing that no one was paying attention, Karra quickly made her way through the crowd of screaming masses to the still-open door that led inside the slave pens.

For a moment, Kara was rendered blind as the light inside the stone building dropped to nearly non-existent; the only light came from the flickering torches hanging from metal ringlets on the wall.

Taking a breath against the unbearable sadness that seemed to permeate from every stone, Kara quickly made her way down the long hallway, the noise from outside gradually going silent, the further in she went.

After several moments of near pitch-black darkness, the hallway finally emptied out into a large open area that made Kara's eyes widen in shock; more than a dozen levels surrounded her, each level holding hundreds of cages in which people were packed beyond safe capacity. It seemed as though the masters of Myr did not care about the slaves having adequate room; they only cared about putting as many into each individual cell as they could.

Several dozen Unsullied guards strolled back and forth along the walkways, as Kara watched, each completely silent and carrying their signature spear. Hearing the shuffling of feet behind her, Kara quickly ducked into the darkness, trying to make herself as small as she could as the red-robed auctioneer from earlier sprinted into the open area, his once pristine appearance, replaced with one of panic and dishevelment.

"Guards! Guards! Get your asses down here, now!"

Almost as one, the Unsullied began to run down the stairs to the ground floor, assembling into a large ten-man front before the auctioneer, who glared at them imperiously.

"Whatever that voice was has caused panic in the streets!" The auctioneer raged, "There's rioting going on! Go out there and protect your masters!"

"And the slaves?" The lone Unsullied in front of the others asked, receiving a backhand slap from the auctioneer as a result, before coming back to attention.

"Do not question me, you ballless bastard!" The auctioneer snarled, "The slaves are all locked up, they cannot hope to escape their cells! Now, go and do as I order, before I have you whipped!"

"Yes, master," The Unsullied said at once, dipping his head in obedience before storming past the man, his fellow Unsullied behind him while the auctioneer watched with distaste.

Once they were all gone, Kara made her move, springing from the shadows like a viper and stabbing her long dagger into the man's neck from behind; the man's eyes shot open in shock and horror, and he tried to scream for help, the cry coming out as a gurgle as his life's blood poured from the wound, while Kara watched, cleaning the blood from her dagger with the end of her brown robe.

A moment later, the man's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, one hand desperately trying to stop the flow of blood while the other clawed at the ground as he tried to crawl away, leaving a large trail of blood behind him. After managing to crawl an impressive distance, the auctioneer finally stopped, his hand falling away from his neck as the loss of blood finally did its job.

Nodding in satisfaction at the man's corpse, Kara put away her dagger before turning and walking into the light in the center of the open area; as she stepped into the light, the slaves began to point at her and whisper to one another.

"Slaves of Myr, the hour of your freedom has come!" Kara called out, her voice echoing around the prison-like structure, "Your new god has come to set you free, and punish all those who would see you as nothing more than an animal!"

"Oh? And what god would that be?" A voice called out sarcastically, making Kara turn around to try and find its origin, "Because I have prayed many times to the gods and never received an answer! Not when my wife was sold to a pleasure house! Not when my child was sold to the mines! Never!"

"I speak not of the petty gods who have allowed you to languish here in pain and misery!" Kara snapped back, her voice rising with every passionate word, "I speak of the god of the Spartan people! My god! And the god, who even now is bringing destruction to the people of Myr for their centuries of brutality! I speak of the god, Kratos!"

Pausing momentarily, Kara smiled as she heard the slaves whisper her god's name, creating a wave of noise that echoed around her.

"I've never even heard of Kratos before!" The same voice called out, "Nor the Spartan people! How do we know that your words are not just those of a deceiver! That your so-called god is not just another 'master' who seeks to place us in chains!"

Kara felt her temper rise at that, and her hands curled into fists as she fought against the rising anger at her god being so disrespected.

"Make no mistake, today Myr will die…" Kara hissed, her voice echoing around her, "And in her place, a new city will be born, a city you all can be a part of! A place where never again need you fear the lash or of having your children stolen from your arms and sold to men who will defile them or make them work until their bodies drop!"

At this point, the prison had gone completely quiet, and every slave seemed to be pressing against the bars of their cell to listen to Kara's words.

"What have the 'lords' of Myr given you?" Kara sneered, "I'm sure many of you have lived by their rules your whole life. You've protected them, envied them, and for what? To be treated like an animal? YOU ARE NOT ANIMALS! Is this what you want!? You can choose to be more than this! You do have a choice! You can be slaves, or you can be…. SPARTANS!"

The prison was quiet as a tomb for several moments at the end of Kara's speech, as though the building itself was holding its breath; a moment later, it began. Small at first but growing by the minute as each cell rang out with voices, all shouting as one,

"Kratos! Kratos!"

"Kratos! Kratos"

"KRATOS! KRATOS!"

Kara smiled as the shouts grew into a roar, until it seemed as if the very walls of the prison would come tumbling down from the volume of the voices screaming their new god's name.

Quickly making her way to a hook on the wall where a ringlet of keys was hanging, Karra ripped the ringlet free and began to unlock the cells one by one as the prisoners continued to scream Kratos' name.

XXXX

Kratos slowly opened his eyes and gazed down at the city of Myr. Moments ago, he had used the new power he felt welling up inside him to deliver his message to the city, and the results spoke for themselves. The city looked like an overturned anthill, and even from here, he could see people streaming from its gates as they fled in terror from the voice they had just heard come from the sky and the message it had given. Chaos was already beginning to grow in the city, it seemed, as Kratos could see several pillars of smoke rising up from different parts of Myr, making him grimace slightly.

Unable to stop himself, Kratos smirked beneath his beard; Mimir would have applauded Kratos' message, which was poetic yet menacing. Too much time with the head hanging from Kratos' belt seemed to have left a piece of him with Kratos, as Kratos had never been anything other than laconic in the past. He hoped he wouldn't become a chatty pain in the ass like Mimir had been...

"It's time…" Kratos growled before looking over his shoulder at his followers, "You will wait here."

"You mean to fight the entire city by yourself?" Meera replied in shock, something that was shared with the rest of Kratos' followers, if the looks on their faces were any indication.

"Yes," Kratos replied as though the answer were obvious, "You are not warriors. In time, perhaps. But, as of now? I have no use for you, and you will only get in my way."

Shame seemed to fill the air as Kratos' followers recognized the truth of his words, even as they hated themselves for being so worthless to their god.

Without another word, Kratos stepped forward and began to walk toward the city as his people watched in silent shock.

Kratos approached the front gates just as they were being closed to keep the few remaining citizens from fleeing in abject terror as many already had; with a sneer of contempt, Kratos pulled back his fist and delivered a solid punch to the wooden door, causing an explosion of wood and bodies as the door blew inwards, showering the people within with shrapnel.

As Kratos stepped through the large hole he had created, he saw dozens of dead bodies lying in puddles of blood, while others were rolling around crying out in pain as pieces of wood and stone stuck out of their bodies.

Casting his victims one final glance, Kratos made his way toward where Kara said the conclave of magisters met to discuss the various aspects of ruling the city. In such a situation, all of Myr's rulers would be in one place, making Kratos' conquest of this city all the easier.

XXXX

Brownflea grunted as he drove his spear into yet another stupid individual who was trying to use the chaos that was going on in the city, to enrich themselves; beside him, a dozen other Unsullied had taken a half-circle perimeter around the front gate and were likewise killing anyone who came close as they tried to defend the front gate of the manse, beyond which lay the family of one of the magisters of Myr.

The master of the manse had left some time ago for an emergency meeting with all the ruling magisters of the city, to discuss just what that voice from the sky had been and what impact it might have on the city itself; before leaving, however, the master had given the Unsullied precise instructions: no one was to enter his manse until he returned. This was why Brownflea and the dozen others under his command were mercilessly slaughtering anyone who came close.

Even as he killed his fiftieth person in less than an hour, Brownflea was unfazed, barely batting an eye as he flicked the gore from the end of his spear; he was an Unsullied, had been since he was a child, and as such, Brownflea was used to violence and brutality, it had been ingrained in him since his manhood was first taken from him.

As the crowd finally realized that they would not be getting in, they began to dissipate, disappearing into the alleys as they went in search of softer targets where they might find riches to steal and women to rape. The entire city seemed to have lost its collective mind since the voice spoke, and Brownflea could hear screams and what sounded like swords clashing, even now.

Retaking his ready position, Brownflea stabbed his spear hard into the ground and breathed a sigh of relief as the rain poured down around him, washing the blood away; more would undoubtedly come, but for now, he could rest. Like the rest of the city, Brownflea was shocked when he heard the voice coming from the sky, but his shock quickly morphed back into discipline. It was not for him to wonder where the voice had come from or what it meant for the city. No, his task was to defend his master's property and family, even if it meant Brownflea's death in the process. As a blinding flash of lightning exploded across the sky, Brownflea saw movement down the darkened street and readied his spear for another possible offensive.

A moment later, his eyes widened in alarm as the largest man that Brownflea had ever seen stepped out of the darkness and stopped a dozen feet from him and his men; the man was over seven feet tall and powerfully built, with pale white skin, a large brown beard, and a strange red tattoo that wound itself around his arm, before ending over his eye. What's more, the man's aura seemed to exude a feeling of absolute authority and power that made Brownflea feel something that he had not felt in decades: fear.

For a moment, neither side moved, and the man glared imperiously at the assembled Unsullied, his bulging arms crossed over his chest; finally, after a moment of tense silence, the man spoke in a voice as hard as a stone.

"Step. Aside. I have business up that road, and you are in my way."

Instantly, Brownflea and the others crouched down into position, their spears moving as one toward the towering giant who simply glared at their refusal.

"Very well, then…" the giant growled, pulling his axe from his back. Brownflea's eyes widened as he saw it; it was nearly as large as the man who held it and covered in glowing blue runes that seemed to pulse with power.

With a snarl, the man hurled the axe at Brownflea and his men, the weapon flying through the air as fast as thought; Brownflea narrowly avoided being beheaded by throwing himself to the ground. As he raised his head, his eyes widened in shock as he saw that four of his men hadn't been so lucky and were now lying headless on the ground. In contrast, the others immediately hurled their spears as one toward the charging giant, who, somehow, appeared to have his axe back in his hand. As the Unsullied watched, their spears slammed into the giant's chest, and for a moment, Brownflea thought they had won, only for his jaw to drop almost comically as the spears bounced harmlessly off the man's chest before clattering to the ground.

"Impossible…" Brownflea breathed, those spears were made by the finest blacksmiths in Myr and were maintained to keep their edge at all times; there was simply no way that those spears could have been so ineffective.

"Draw swords!" Brownflea roared as he rose to his feet and drew his short sword; behind him, he heard the others do the same as they raised their shield and prepared for close-quarter combat.

An instant later, the Unsullied were sent sprawling as the warrior barreled into them with all the strength of a charging bull; by the time he had risen back to his feet, four more of Brownflea's men had been butchered as easily as if they were children and lay unmoving in the street.

As Brownflea watched, one of his men raised his shield to block the man's incoming blow, only for the shield to prove completely worthless as the axe passed through the shield and then the man as easily as if both were made of butter. With a cry of agony, the Unsullied was split down the middle, falling into two heaps on the street while the others stared. With a snarl, another of Brownflea's mean charged forward and stabbed at the man's exposed side, only for the blade to stop as it hit the man's skin as though he were wearing the strongest armor on earth.

"Wha?" The Unsullied had time to say before the man backhanded him, sending him flying into the nearby way with such force that it left a spiderweb-like crack behind as the Unsullied fell to the floor, dead.

At this point, only Brownflea and one other remained, and both men nodded at each other as they mentally prepared to die; with a cry, Brownflea's companion charged forward and slashed at the man several times, his sword continuously bouncing away as Brownflea bent down to pick up his spear.

With a weary sigh, the man suddenly exploded into action, grabbing Brownflea's fellow Unsullied by the head before crushing it in his grasp, showering the street and nearby wall with blood and gore.

As the giant turned to Brownflea, the Unsullied released a cry and charged forward, sending his spear against the man's skin where his heart should be, only for the spear tip to shatter into a hundred pieces as the weapon proved just as useless as all the others that had been used against this warrior.

As he stared at the broken speak, Brownflea felt only shock, how could such a being exist? All of their weapons had proved useless, and he had slaughtered all of Brownflea's men as though they had been helpless infants, rather than the capable warriors they were.

Looking up into the giant's face, Brownflea tried not to show any fear as he closed his eyes and readied himself to die, only to gasp in surprise as the giant placed a hand on Brownflea's head.

"Even now, when you know that you cannot win, you choose to stand and fight… All for someone unworthy of such a sacrifice…"

Brownflea's eyes shot open as he heard the man's words, finally recognizing the man's voice as the one that had been heard coming from the sky. Did that mean that Brownflea and his men had been fighting against a god? No wonder they could not win!

"I can sense what the 'masters' of this city have taken from you, brave one…" the 'god' continued, causing Brownflea to feel shame. "Such courage as you have shown should be rewarded, not punished.

A moment later, pain the like of which Brownflea had not felt in an age filled him, and he collapsed to the ground with a scream; for several moments, he lay there, sobbing in sheer agony before the pain finally disappeared.

As Brownflea lifted his head from the hard stone street, he saw that the giant had disappeared and that he was alone, save for the bodies of his fallen companions. Rising shakily to his feet, Brownflea felt a strange sensation coming from his trousers, a sensation he had not felt in decades.

Shocked beyond words at the implications of what he felt, Brownflea began to tear his armor from his body until he stood as naked as the day he was born, in the middle of the street, the pouring rain drenching him to the bone.

Reaching a shaky hand down to his manhood, Brownflea released a cry of shock that immediately turned into a sob as he felt what had been returned to him. What the god had returned to him...

XXXX

Captain Tavos Fyllonnis growled angrily as the torrential rain drenched him to the point where he never thought he would be dry again as he stood at attention in front of the large double doors that led to where the magisters were holding their meeting; above him, the storm seemed to be growing in its ferocity as the once peaceful sky was ripped apart with violent flashes of light. At the bottom of the stairs, perhaps three dozen feet in front of him, over a hundred men stood neatly in rows of ten, facing outward and dressed for battle, all just as miserable as Tavos.

The second son of the house of Fyllonnis, Tavos had never really considered playing any significant role in the running of the city, that was his older brother's destiny, and upon their father's death, Tavos' older sibling had taken their father's place in the 'Hall of Silver' as one of the ruling magisters of Myr. To Tavos' surprise, however, his older sibling had immediately made Tavos the captain of the city guard, a much respected and lauded position that had made Tavos affluent very quickly, as well as giving him a purpose, for which Tavos would always be grateful.

Like his older brother, Tavos was tall and slim with olive-colored skin and long black hair that he kept oiled and well-maintained, the same as his well-trimmed goatee. Like the rest of Myr's city guard, he wore a set of dark grey armor with a golden dragon painted on the center and a cone-like helmet. On his hip rested a sword of impeccable beauty that had a large ruby embedded in the hilt and would have cost him several months' salary, were he anyone else of 'lesser blood.'

When the storm had first begun, Tavos had contented himself to a long night in one of Myr's more impressive pleasure houses, warm and comfortable, while the rain drenched the rest of those unfortunates who weren't able to find such shelter.

All that had changed when 'the voice' had descended on the city, shocking the entirety of it to its core and causing mass panic and chaos to ensue; Tavos' older brother had immediately ordered Tavos to bring out the entirety of the city guard and surround the 'Hall of Silver' while the magister's tried to make sense of what had happened. The Unsullied had been relegated to defend the many manses of the city and try to maintain some semblance of order, but the city guard had been given the far more important task of ensuring that no one disturbed the magisters while they convened and discussed what was to be done.

That was why Tavos and all the others stood out in the pouring rain, growing wetter by the second, while his older brother and the rest of the nobles who ran the city were warm and dry inside, discussing.

As a sudden wind began to blow, chilling Tavos to the bone, he grit his teeth and growled angrily again; this was ridiculous! He was the son of a noble house. Yet, he stood out here, risking catching sickness in the pouring rain. At the same time, his older brother wasted time talking, and knowing the other nobles, these talks would go well into the night!

As Tavos let his anger drive his thoughts further, he suddenly heard something. Straining his ears against the howling wind and pouring rain, He tried to make out what it was.

A moment later, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people poured into the square, all waving whatever weapon they could find, some had no weapon at all, and each wearing the distinctive dirty outfit of a slave.

For a moment, Tavos didn't know what he was seeing, and his jaw dropped open comically as the horde of screaming people charged toward the equally shocked soldiers.

A moment later, his thoughts caught up with him, and he began to scream out orders for his men to prepare for battle! The slaves were rebelling? Right as the city was descending into chaos? This was a disaster!

"Kill them!" Tavos screamed against the pouring rain, hoping his voice would carry, "Kill them all! They cannot be allowed inside the Hall of Silver!"

Instantly, the guard all drew their swords as the horde slammed into their ranks and began to slash and stab at anyone who drew close to them; likewise, the horde of slaves used anything available to kill the guard. Many were unarmed and so were trying to tear the guards apart with their bare hands, while a very small number managed to find weapons, such as blacksmith's hammers, and pitchforks. As the guards began to fall, the slaves happily picked up the fallen swords and began to fight all the harder while Tavos maintained his position in front of the double doors, screaming out orders while his outnumbered guard were swiftly slaughtered to a man.

XXXX

As Kratos stepped into the square where the building that the so-called 'leaders of Myr' were congregated, he grunted in surprise at what he saw; the entire square had turned into a battlefield, with hundreds of slaves attacking men in armor with a ferocity and savagery that nearly made Kratos nod in approval. Looking past the battle, Kratos could see a lone man standing at the top of the buildings stairs, pointing with his sword and screaming orders that were lost in the wind of the storm that Kratos had created.

Looking up at the building, Kratos couldn't hold back the sneer that crossed his lips as he viewed the affluence that the city leaders flaunted so openly; the building was a monstrosity of pure white that seemed to stretch interminably towards the heavens so that Kratos could not see the top of it. The more Kratos stared at the tower, the more it disgusted him, and the more he felt his anger growing with the nobles who ruled this city. They treated those who worked for him like animals and, all the while, built things like that? All to showcase their own greed and affluence.

Slowly raising his hand into the air, Kratos felt the power within him beginning to build, searching for somewhere to go yet contained within Kratos' being. Tighter and tighter, Kratos compressed the power until it felt like he would explode if he didn't release it soon. The fighting in the square slowly died away as the storm became ever more violent, the wind blowing with all the power of a hurricane and causing many to drop their weapons as they threw their arm over their eyes against the dust and debris that surrounded them; when Kratos felt as though he couldn't possibly hold it any longer, he dropped his arm. Those watching were shown firsthand the power he now wielded.

A bolt of lightning, impossibly large, fell from heaven and slammed into the Hall of Silver, momentarily causing it to glow bright yellow before it suddenly exploded as those watching stared in awe and horror.

As stones the size of large horses began to fall from the sky, causing screams of panic from those in the square, the tower collapsed in on itself, creating a suffocating blanket of dust that quickly enveloped all those who were watching.

For several moments, no one could see anything as those who had been caught in the tower's collapse fought for air against the dust that blanketed their lungs.

With an annoyed growl, Kratos swept his hand before him, causing the dust to instantly disappear, much to the shock of all those who had been surrounded by it moments before. As Kratos stared at the ruin that had once been a magnificent ivory tower, the only indication that he was as shocked by what he had done as all the rest was the slick 'tick' of his brow. Though he was the son of Zeus, and his father was the master of the sky and wielder of lightning, Kratos had never thought himself remotely possible of what he had just done. Looking down at his hand, Kratos could barely make out the faint shadow of lightning as it danced between his fingers, and he couldn't help but wonder what else he would be capable of in the coming days.

As the storm began to abate, those standing in the square, both slaves and city guards, stared at Kratos in open awe, their mouths hanging open in shock at what they had just seen.

As the rain poured down upon them, no one moved, too shocked to do anything but stare at the impossibly large man who had destroyed the entirety of Myr's rulers and the building in which they met, with just a wave of his hand.

A sudden cackle caused nearly every one to turn to its origin, Kratos among them, only to see Kara come hobbling from one of the nearby alleys, her brown robe soaked from the storm.

"Did I not tell you!" Kara screamed passionately, "Did I not tell you what was coming? What your god, Kratos, would do to the scum who ruled this city! Behold! The truth with your own eyes! Kratos, the god of the Spartan people, has come!"

Kratos growled in annoyance at the woman's antics, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as she approached his side with a look of pure devotion in her eyes.

A moment later, the slaves in the square all began to kneel one-by-one before Kratos while the city guard, what few remained, remained standing for a moment more, as though unsure of what to do; seconds later, they too knelt before the giant as Kratos stared at them all imperiously. The tower was completely gone, resembling a broken pile of stones now, rather than the tower of affluence that it had once been, and Kratos could see several large stones had unfortunately crushed a great many who had been unable to get out of the way as they fell.

"It is as you said, my lord…" Kara whispered as she gazed out at the entire square, all on their knees before her god, "Myr has died, and Sparta has been reborn…"

"Hmm, not yet." Kratos growled, causing Kara to look up at him, "There is much to do before this city can earn the right to call itself Sparta. But you are right. This is a beginning…"

As a sudden burst of lightning flashed overhead, Kara couldn't help but agree, especially when the slaves looked up, and she saw the devotion reflected in their eyes. They were Kratos' now, and he would lead them to glory.

XXXX

Author's Note:

I hope this chapter was everything you expected. I was planning on having Kratos invade the Hall of Silver and kill the magisters there, but just blowing up the tower seemed far simpler. It also seemed a way to showcase his new power to those he will now rule. Let me know what you thought of this chapter and what you liked and didn't like. Until next time.