Chapter 139: Who the Hell Are These People?
By: Rowing Without Oars 233
Darfur Town.
This was a town born in the desert and raised in the flames of war. For as long as history had been recorded, the air here seemed to be filled with an ancient, lingering scent of dust and gunpowder. The dilapidated bell tower was in ruins, and the ancient plaza was pockmarked with craters from bombs and rockets.
There were hardly any pedestrians on the streets, only the occasional armed soldier on patrol. Many of the shops along the street had been destroyed. On a crumbling wall, slogans like "Freedom" and "Justice" were painted in the local language, which appeared utterly ridiculous given the environment.
Diana Prince, wrapped in a white hood that hid most of her face, walked slowly through the hail of bullets. Artillery fire and stray shots flew past her.
She arrived at the entrance of a bar, its main door already destroyed by a bomb. A few young men in tank tops and flip-flops, holding submachine guns, were running amok in the streets, shouting as they fired wildly.
Diana glanced at them, frowned slightly, but said nothing. She walked through the ruined doorway and into the bar.
It was a complete wreck. The air was thick with the stench of blood, and a pool of it had already spread to the doorway. The corpses of men and women lay strewn across the entire room. Shattered liquor bottles were everywhere, liquor and blood mixed together. The bar owner's upper body was slumped over the bar counter, his hunting rifle having fallen to the floor. A massive hole had been blown in his forehead, and blood was trickling down from the counter.
But the most striking figure in the room was a bald old man.
A skinny, wiry old man with a full white beard. Ignoring the room full of dead bodies and the pool of blood, he sat at the bar counter, leisurely pouring himself a drink.
Diana sat down beside him, her expression blank. Without looking up, the old man raised his glass to her in a gesture.
"Care for a drink?"
"No, thank you," Diana said dryly.
The old man glanced at her and shrugged. "Don't look at me like that. This has nothing to do with me. This is humans slaughtering each other, because it's in their nature. They just love to do it."
"I know how this works, Ares. You don't need to explain it to me," Diana said coldly. "You are the war god. Wherever you go, conflict follows. And war, in turn, makes you stronger."
She paused, then continued, "But I'm not here for that today. I'm here because of the prophecy of Olympus. There has been an unexpected development concerning our father, Zeus."
The war god Ares raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you going to tell me he loves us?"
"I said 'unexpected,' not 'shock'," Diana said flatly. "Apollo believes he was murdered."
"Ha, that would explain it," Ares said lightly.
"Explain what?"
"Oh, the thought that it was me... that's adorable, little thing." Ares leaned forward over the counter, reached behind it for a moment, and pulled out a new bottle of liquor.
"Are you saying you didn't do it?"
"Of course not. If it were me, you all would have known by now," Ares shrugged. "You don't really think I'd kill Zeus and then just sit here quietly, saying nothing, do you?"
Diana thought for a moment. "That's a fair point."
"But this explains a lot... So Zeus is dead. No wonder they're saying the Fallen Realm is about to open again."
Ares muttered to himself as he continued to pour his drink.
"What is that?"
"The Fallen Realm. It's where some of the old-timers from the divine realm stored their creations... But I have to say, they are truly rare creations."
Ares swirled his wine glass, studying the bubbles within.
"The legend—just a legend, of course—says that if someone successfully enters the Fallen Realm and obtains a certain item sealed within, that person—even if they were originally a mere mortal—will gain the divine power of Zeus."
Diana frowned. "Something so powerful exists? If it falls into the wrong hands..."
"Indeed. I know a few people on Olympus who have always been quite interested in that thing. For example, our very... intense... brother."
"Apollo."
Diana fell into deep thought.
"And that would be the best-case scenario. Apollo might not be very likable, and he has certain... well-known ambitions, but at the end of the day, he's still an Olympian god. All he cares about is divine authority and Zeus's throne."
Ares continued at a leisurely pace.
"But if someone from outside Olympus got their hands on it, or to take it a step further, a very ambitious mortal who doesn't mind making sacrifices..."
Diana narrowed her eyes at him.
"Why do you sound so uninterested in this?"
"Not everyone covets the divine power of Zeus," Ares shrugged. "Our destiny has never been our own to decide. It's in the hands of mortals. Most on Olympus just haven't realized it yet. But one day, the world will be ruled by war. Only war is eternity."
"You want me to get involved," Diana stated calmly. "You want me to fight them—whoever is coveting this power—which is exactly what you desire: conflict."
"Yes," Ares shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly unbothered that his intentions had been exposed. "But even knowing that, you'll still go, won't you?"
Diana was briefly silent, but ultimately, she didn't refute his point.
"Tell me how to enter the Fallen Realm."
"The simplest way is that you need a key to help you open the gate to the Fallen Realm. And from what I know, that key was last seen in a human museum."
Ares took a slow sip of his drink.
"In the city the humans call 'Metropolis'."
***
Elsewhere, at an A.R.G.U.S. Stronghold.
A massive explosion shattered the night's tranquility without warning, and a blaze of fire soared into the sky. The cracking ground split open like a gaping maw, swallowing buildings whole.
From the rift emerged a colossal sharp claw.
Densely packed scales, glowing with a fiery red light, formed a suit of armor. A pair of deep, blazing eyes surfaced from the underground. A high brow bone formed curved horns, and a mane of flame extended from the top of its head down its back, burning furiously.
A giant, fire-breathing dragon, dozens of meters tall.
The base immediately sounded the alarm, and its turrets opened fire in response. The artillery fire struck the giant dragon, creating constant explosions of thick smoke and firelight as shrapnel flew in all directions. But the giant beast's body broke through the smoke screen, and it threw its head back with a deafening roar. The dense barrage might as well have been trying to scrub it clean; it couldn't even scratch its hide.
Its sharp claw easily sliced a building in half. With a single kick, it sent a heavy tank spinning like a powerfully struck soccer ball into the control tower. The tank tore through the control room with devastating force. The rooftop collapsed amidst a shower of electric sparks, and the operators coordinating the defense had no time to react before they were ground into meat paste by the screeching alarm.
Fighter jets took off, dropping two missiles from their weapon pylons as they dove. The fiery explosions licked at the beast's sturdy body, yet they were still completely ineffective. An uninformed observer might have thought they were giving it a steam bath.
On the contrary, the great dragon raised its head and opened its mouth. The firelight spread along the mane on its back, gathering in its mouth as if charging up. A scorching fireball erupted forth with incredible precision, instantly engulfing a fighter jet and causing it to explode in mid-air!
The flame giant beast was unstoppable. The entire A.R.G.U.S. facility crumbled before it like building blocks, and all its weapons were as useless as toys.
"Pennsylvania Base, please respond! Pennsylvania Base, please respond!"
At A.R.G.U.S. Headquarters, a communications officer turned around helplessly after repeated, unanswered calls. "Director, we've lost contact with the Pennsylvania Base. It might be... it might be..."
Amanda Waller, a dark-skinned, heavyset woman, stood behind him with her arms crossed, her face ashen.
"How long until reinforcements arrive?"
"The flight squadron is estimated to arrive within two minutes—"
Before he could finish, a loud "buzz" echoed through the base. All the displays and lights flickered and died, plunging everything into darkness.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know! The backup power isn't responding..."
Before he could say more, all the screens flickered back to life. At first, they were filled with static, like a snowy screen, but then words began to emerge from the chaos.
"You wanted war."
"You've got it."
Waller's eyes widened. "What the hell is going on?" she roared.
"We don't know!" an operator said uneasily. "All our equipment has been hijacked! Someone is sending us this... but this should be impossible..."
"It must be some kind of alien technology!"
But in less than a minute, the words on the screen vanished. The lights came on, and all equipment returned to normal.
An IT technician whispered to his colleague, "Are the aliens sending a declaration of war?"
"No, when did we ever say we wanted a war? Feels like we're being framed for something big..."
"Did you forget? The Director said we were entering a state of interstellar combat readiness."
"Huh? Wasn't the Director just shooting his mouth off? Crap, don't tell me the aliens heard him?"
The two technicians were whispering excitedly when they looked up and saw Amanda Waller staring at them with a dark expression.
Their hearts nearly stopped. They quickly shrank back to their stations and got busy.
Waller glared at them for a moment but had no mind to deal with them. Instead, she frowned deeply in thought.
It was happening again.
An alien or monster would descend from the sky without warning and attack A.R.G.U.S. After the attack, they would drop a few threatening lines about how "you asked for this."
This development... she felt like she'd seen it somewhere before.
Seriously, who the hell are these people? When did we ever declare war?
Are they crazy?
(end of chapter)