Ancient Greece, 2500 B.C.
The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed across the vast open field, mingling with war cries, the crack of splintering spears, and the heavy thud of bodies collapsing onto the earth. Beneath the golden light of the setting sun, the horizon seemed to burn in shades of red and orange, as if the sky itself were bearing witness to the brutality of the battle.
The wind carried the metallic scent of blood and the dust stirred by the footsteps of thousands of warriors. The grass, once green, was now stained with dark trails, trampled beneath sandals, boots, and hooves.
Two colossal armies clashed with relentless fury.
On one side stood men from the many city-states and villages of primitive Greece, fighting shoulder to shoulder with creatures that could hardly be called human. Among them were beings with thick skin and curved horns, their massive bodies resembling bulls—true colossi of muscle and rage. Others bore green or grayish scales, with narrow, elongated eyes, like lizards walking upright.
Despite the grotesque differences in their forms, all of them wore armor marked with the same symbol: an ancient emblem engraved in dark metal, depicting a serpent coiled around a blade.
It was the mark of a dark alliance.
On the other side of the field advanced an army no less fearsome.
Thousands of warriors marched in perfect formation, their round shields forming a solid wall of bronze and reinforced leather. Their spears projected forward like a forest of deadly points.
They were not mere soldiers.
They were
Amazons.
Women trained for war since childhood, raised in the image and likeness of three of the Great Goddesses of Olympus. Every movement they made was disciplined, precise—almost choreographed like a sacred ritual. Their ornate helmets gleamed beneath the dying sun, and their armor, though elegant, was built to withstand the most brutal blows.
Their formation advanced slowly, pushing the enemy back step by step.
Spears pierced flesh.
Shields crushed faces.
Swords flashed before plunging into throats.
The ground grew redder with every passing moment.
High atop a rocky rise, where the wind blew colder and the scent of blood arrived only as a distant whisper, stood the ruins of an ancient temple. Broken columns lay scattered across the stone floor, some still standing, crooked and cracked by time. Decapitated statues of forgotten gods watched the scene in silence, like witnesses to a cruel fate.
His presence seemed to distort the very air around him. He was tall, imposing, with a body as perfect as a living sculpture. His muscles were defined as though carved from marble, yet there was something deeply unsettling about him.
His long platinum hair danced in the wind like strands of silver, while his eyes burned with a supernatural fire—two living embers filled with violent pleasure.
He wore a magnificent suit of armor, forged from darkened steel with deep black details, as if it had been tempered in the very blood of war. At the center of the breastplate was engraved the same symbol borne by the soldiers fighting below—the serpent coiled around a blade.
The mark of eternal war.
The blade of a sword passed within inches of his neck.
He leaned his body backward at the last instant, feeling the wind of the strike slice through the air before his throat.
Then he laughed.
A low laugh at first… which soon grew louder, almost euphoric.
"Hippolyta!!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a disturbing joy.
"What a wonderful moment we are living in!"
He spun his own sword in a lazy motion, his eyes burning with excitement.
"Of all the conflicts I have ever fed upon… none has given me such pleasure as this one!"
Before him stood Hippolyta.
The queen of the Amazons breathed heavily, keeping her sword raised between them.
She was as imposing as the god himself.
Her dark hair was partially tied behind her head, but several strands had escaped during the battle and now whipped in the wind. Her face was marked with dust and small cuts, yet her eyes remained steady—hard as iron.
Her armor was like that of the other Amazons, with the addition of the crown upon her head.
The polished metal reflected the sunset in golden hues, while a short cloak of dark fabric moved behind her.
She did not look intimidated.
But she was furious.
"You call this pleasure, Ares?" she said, her voice low but filled with contempt.
"Thousands are dying down there… all because of your hunger."
Ares slowly opened his arms, as if absorbing something invisible.
And in a way… he was.
An unseen breeze seemed to flow from the battlefield toward him. Something that only a god could feel.
The energy of war.
Every scream.
Every wound.
Every death.
All of it fed his essence.
He closed his eyes for a moment, smiling.
"Ah… you feel it too, don't you?" he murmured. "The smell of battle… the taste of violence…"
Then he opened his eyes again.
"You Amazons are fascinating creatures."
He began to walk slowly among the broken columns, circling Hippolyta like a curious predator.
"Trained for war… yet preaching peace."
"Created to kill… yet trying to avoid conflict."
He tilted his head slightly.
"It's a delicious contradiction."
Hippolyta tightened her grip on the sword.
"We are warriors because the world needs protectors."
"Not monsters like you!"
Ares let out a small laugh.
"Monster?"
He pointed his sword toward the battlefield below, where his soldiers fought like beasts.
"Look at them!"
The valley was drowned in chaos.
"They were born to fight and to destroy."
Then he turned his eyes back to her.
"I merely accelerate the inevitable."
Hippolyta suddenly advanced.
Her sword cut through the air in a swift strike, forcing Ares to block with his own blade. The impact echoed through the ruins like a metallic thunderclap.
The two separated again.
"You don't spread war out of necessity," she said, her voice steady.
"You do it because it makes you feel good!"
Ares' smile widened.
"I won't deny it. On top of everything else, I enjoy all of this very much."
He tilted his head to the side, almost like a satisfied teacher.
"Every conflict… every empire that falls… every battle fought…"
His eyes burned again with intensity.
"All of it makes me stronger."
He raised his sword again.
"And you, Amazons…"
His gaze turned cold.
"Are a problem."
Hippolyta narrowed her eyes.
"Because we fight when it's necessary…"
"No." — Ares interrupted her.
He took a step forward.
"Because you also know how to negotiate."
The wind blew through the ruins.
"You end wars before they can grow."
"You convince kings to retreat."
"You forge alliances."
He pointed the blade directly at her heart.
"You reduce my food."
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
Then Hippolyta replied:
"So that's why."
Ares did not answer.
She tightened her grip on the sword even more.
"This war… these monsters… all of this…"
Her gaze hardened further.
"It was all just to destroy my people."
Ares smiled again.
A slow smile.
Cruel.
"Not only that."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You're forgetting something, Hippolyta."
For a moment… her expression changed.
Just for an instant.
But Ares noticed.
And he laughed.
"Ah… yes."
His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"Our little… miracle."
The wind blew harder across the ruins.
And Hippolyta's gaze hardened completely.
Ares rested his sword on his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Tell me…" he said calmly.
"What did you think of our son?"
The question hung in the air among the ruins, carried by the wind that blew through the broken columns of the ancient temple.
But the answer did not come immediately.
Because at that very moment, down on the battlefield, something caught both of their attention.
A thunderous crash echoed through the war cries.
Three Amazons were hurled into the air like rag dolls, their bodies spinning before crashing onto the blood-soaked earth. Shields shattered. Spears rolled across the reddened grass.
At the center of that small massacre stood a single warrior.
He wore armor very similar to that of Ares—dark bronze with black veins running through the metal—but less ornate, more brutal in its simplicity. Even so, it was clearly superior to the armor of ordinary soldiers.
It had been made for someone special.
For someone powerful.
The warrior slowly lifted his head.
He was young.
His hair had the same platinum shade as the god of war's, long enough to fall over his shoulders. His body possessed the same physical perfection—defined muscles, a confident posture, almost arrogant.
But the face…
The face carried something crueler.
A crooked smile, full of malice and violent pleasure.
It was the kind of smile that seemed to enjoy this.
In one hand he held a long sword, still dripping with blood. In the other, a heavy war mace, its metal already warped from crushing armor and bones again and again.
He lazily spun the mace.
Another Amazon charged at him with a battle cry.
Daemos simply stepped to the side.
His sword came down in a clean arc.
The warrior fell before she even realized the strike had landed.
Blood sprayed into the air.
The young demigod laughed.
"You fight well…" he murmured, almost disappointed.
"But not well enough."
He advanced again, striking with the mace.
An Amazon tried to block with her shield.
The impact crushed the metal as if it were clay.
She fell lifeless.
Daemos took a deep breath, his eyes shining with excitement.
He reveled in it.
Each blow seemed to feed something inside him.
Each death… a satisfaction.
Up above, in the ruins, Hippolyta watched in silence.
Her face was rigid.
Hard.
But her eyes… her eyes carried something deeper.
Something close to pain.
Ares noticed.
And his smile grew wider.
"Magnificent, don't you think?" he said, with an almost paternal tone.
"Look at him… the way he moves… the strength… the joy of battle…"
He opened his arms as if presenting a masterpiece.
"Daemos is everything I could have wished for."
Hippolyta slowly turned her gaze toward the god of war.
"He is an abomination."
Ares laughed.
"Ah, Hippolyta…"
Before he could continue, she attacked.
Her sword came fast, cutting through the air with violent force.
Ares blocked with his own blade.
The impact echoed through the ruins.
The two faced each other again, circling among the broken columns while their blades clashed again and again.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Hippolyta attacked with brutal precision—quick, direct strikes, without wasting a single movement.
Ares fought differently.
He savored the combat.
Blocking at the last second. Dodging by inches. Spinning his sword as if he were dancing.
Even so, his blows were powerful enough to crack stone when they missed their target.
The fight lasted several intense seconds.
Until Ares saw an opening.
He moved forward.
Twisted his body.
His blade knocked Hippolyta's sword aside while his free arm wrapped around hers.
In a swift motion, he immobilized her, pinning her against his own body.
Her sword fell onto the stone floor.
Ares laughed softly near her ear.
"I will never be able to repay the gift you gave me," he said with satisfaction.
"Daemos is a killing machine… just like me."
He lifted his eyes toward the battlefield below.
"And soon we will carry this violence beyond these lands."
His smile slowly spread.
"To all the kingdoms of men."
Hippolyta reacted immediately.
"I gave you nothing!"
Her voice echoed through the ruins.
"You forced your cursed seed into me! You made me carry that monster!"
Then she threw her head back with force.
CRACK.
Her forehead slammed into Ares's nose.
The god stepped back, surprised.
Hippolyta broke free from his hold.
She grabbed her sword from the ground in a swift motion.
"And I'm going to end this at the root!"
Ares wiped the blood from his nose, looking at her with something different in his eyes.
Something that… for an instant… resembled concern.
"No, Hippolyta!"
His voice came out louder.
"He is your blood as well!"
But she had already moved.
Hippolyta ran to the edge of the rocky rise.
And jumped.
The wind roared in her ears as she fell.
Then a sharp whistle cut through the air.
From the clouds, a white winged horse dived toward her.
She grabbed the reins with perfect precision and mounted the saddle in midair.
The animal spread its enormous wings.
And shot toward the battlefield.
Ares cursed.
He brought two fingers to his mouth and let out a deep whistle.
From the other side of the ruins, something gigantic answered.
A creature landed heavily among the broken columns.
A hybrid beast with the muscular body of a lion and the powerful wings of an eagle.
The god leapt onto its back.
"Stop, Hippolyta!" he shouted as the creature took flight.
But she was already descending like a bolt of lightning.
Down below, Daemos was finishing another fight.
He pulled his sword from the body of a fallen Amazon.
He took a deep breath.
Smiled.
Then a massive shadow covered the ground around him.
The young demigod lifted his eyes.
But he had no time to react.
The last thing he saw was his mother.
Descending from the sky.
Hippolyta's sword shone in the light of the setting sun.
The strike was clean.
Cold.
Precise.
The blade cut through his neck in a single motion.
For a moment… everything fell silent.
Daemos' head fell onto the blood-soaked earth.
It rolled a few inches.
And stopped.
Right at the feet of Ares, who had landed only a second too late.
The god of war stood still.
The battlefield seemed distant now.
His eyes slowly lowered to the head of his own son.
Daemos' cruel smile was still frozen on his face.
And for the first time that day…
Ares was not smiling.
Daemos' head rolled slowly before stopping in the blood-soaked earth.
The battlefield—which only moments before had roared with the chaos of war—now seemed strangely quieter around that spot.
Ares landed on the ground as his winged mount stirred dust and wind. For a few seconds, he simply stood there, staring.
At his son's head.
Then, slowly… he knelt.
His fingers—hands that had wielded weapons capable of destroying armies—touched Daemos' face with something unexpected.
Care.
He lifted the young demigod's head with both hands.
For a moment, the burning eyes of the god of war closed.
The expression on his face was strange.
Confused.
Something he had almost never felt in all his long immortal existence.
Ares had fathered many children over the centuries. Children of mortals, of goddesses, of nymphs. Many had lived. Many had died.
But he had never cared.
Never until now.
A new emotion formed within him.
Something that burned… but in a different way than war.
Pain.
His eyes opened again.
Now blazing like furnaces of living fire.
Ares slowly rose to his feet.
And then he roared.
"CURSE YOU!!"
His voice echoed across the battlefield like thunder.
He dropped Daemos' head, letting it fall back to the ground, and charged toward Hippolyta.
Each of his steps seemed to shake the earth.
Hippolyta did not retreat.
She raised her sword again.
There was no regret in her eyes.
Only determination.
If this was the price to end that cursed bloodline… she would pay it.
The two were about to collide again.
When the sky tore open.
"ENOUGH!!"
The voice fell upon the battlefield like a divine lightning strike.
The sound was so powerful it echoed through the surrounding mountains.
Everyone—humans, monsters, and Amazons alike—stopped fighting on instinct.
An intense light split the clouds.
A golden flash that covered the entire battlefield as if the sun itself had descended to the earth.
High above, surrounded by lightning and swirling clouds, a gigantic silhouette began to take shape.
An imposing figure.
The king of the gods.
Zeus.
Ares was only a few steps from Hippolyta when an invisible force crashed down upon him like the weight of a mountain.
His knees slammed against the ground.
He tried to stand.
His muscles tensed with immense force.
But it was useless.
The divine pressure kept him kneeling.
Hippolyta did not hesitate.
She advanced.
If Zeus had stopped Ares… then she would finish what she had started.
Her sword came down toward the neck of the god of war.
But the blade stopped in midair.
Frozen.
As if it had struck an invisible wall.
"I said enough!!"
Zeus' voice thundered again.
Lightning danced around his figure in the clouds.
"The life of my grandson has already been taken."
The word echoed heavily in the air.
"You will not take the life of my son, Hippolyta."
The eyes of the Amazon queen burned.
Pure fury.
She tried to push the sword forward again.
But the divine force was absolute.
"Do not interfere, Zeus!!" she shouted, her voice full of pain and rage.
She gestured around them.
The battlefield was covered in bodies.
Amazons.
Soldiers.
Monstrous creatures.
The price of war.
"Look around!" she continued.
"The blood of my sisters stains this land!"
She stared directly at the figure in the clouds.
"And all of this happened because of him!"
Her blade trembled against the invisible barrier.
"And I will not be denied my vengeance!!"
The lightning around Zeus grew stronger.
"Do not defy me, Hippolyta!"
His voice now carried the full authority of the father of the gods.
For a moment it seemed the sky itself might collapse.
But before the tension could explode…
Another presence appeared.
Gentle.
Serene.
A silver light emerged among the clouds beside Zeus.
And a new figure appeared.
Majestic.
Calm.
Hera.
She descended slowly from the sky until her feet touched the battlefield.
Her gaze moved across the scattered bodies.
Then to Ares.
Then to Hippolyta.
When she spoke, her voice was firm… but deeply calm.
"There has been enough bloodshed today."
The wind itself seemed to calm around her.
Zeus frowned.
Hippolyta still trembled with fury.
But Hera walked a few steps between them.
"My husband," she said, looking toward Zeus.
"If we continue like this, this field will not see only the deaths of mortals."
Then she turned to Hippolyta.
"And you, queen of the Amazons…"
Her eyes carried understanding.
"I know the pain of loss."
Hippolyta said nothing.
But her sword stopped trembling.
Hera spoke again, now with the tone of someone building a solution.
"Ares has committed a grave crime."
She looked at the god of war, still forced to his knees.
"He spread war among mortals to feed his own power."
Zeus remained silent for several seconds.
Thinking.
His pride was still there.
But so was wisdom.
Finally he spoke.
"Then he shall be punished."
Lightning descended from the sky.
Chains made of divine energy appeared in the air and wrapped themselves around Ares.
They tightened around his arms, legs, and torso.
The god of war roared as he felt something being torn out from within him.
His strength.
His power.
His divine essence.
The chains absorbed everything.
Except one thing.
His immortality.
Zeus raised his hand.
The chains dragged Ares into the sky, surrounded by lightning.
"He will live."
The voice of the king of the gods echoed.
"But he will be stripped of his divine gifts."
His exact fate remained unknown.
Then Zeus turned his attention to Hippolyta.
And to the surviving Amazons.
Hera placed a hand on his arm.
"My husband… they have suffered losses as well."
Zeus took a deep breath.
Then he spoke.
"Queen Hippolyta… your people will no longer fight wars among men."
He raised his hand toward the horizon.
The distant sea began to glow with divine energy.
"I grant the Amazons a new land."
An island rose from the waters as if it had always been there.
"A hidden island, beyond the reach of the world."
Hera added gently:
"A place where your people may live in peace."
Hippolyta looked toward the horizon.
Zeus finished:
"Its name shall be Themyscira."
Hera smiled