The desert broke into war.
–––
The first blow fell from Ra. His staff flared, and the sun itself screamed. Fire rolled across the sky in waves, rivers of molten gold pouring onto the battlefield. The sands turned to glass where it touched, the air itself seared.
Zeus raised his hands. The storm bellowed out of him, thunder ripping through the fire. Lightning split the flood of flame, sparks and embers bursting into storms of their own. The clash blinded the horizon, heat and storm locked in one endless scream.
All at once the armies collided.
–––
Ares leapt forward with a roar, his sword dripping fire as he crashed into Sekhmet. Claws met blade, blood spraying at the first strike. Her roar tore the sand apart, but Ares only laughed, teeth bared, his body blazing with warlust.
