Because the war had only just begun.Ares stood with the weight of it pressing into his spine, heavier than any armor he had ever worn. The square behind him moved like a living beast, hundreds of bodies carrying wood, iron, broken stone, stacking it into barricades that would never stop tanks but would slow boots, force choke points, buy time. Time was blood. Time was life.The torches hissed in the damp night air, smoke clinging low. Somewhere, a woman sang under her breath while hammering nails into a board. Not a song of joy - one of endurance. A melody to keep her hands steady.Reyes returned with maps stolen from the old council chambers. He unrolled them across a crate, pinning corners with stones. His finger jabbed hard. “They’ll strike at dawn. Here, here, maybe both. They’ll want to break the square before it becomes a symbol.”Hawk leaned in, voice harsh. “Let them come. I’ve been starving for a fight since the day they called us traitors.”Ares studied the lines, silent. H

And Ares charged into the teeth of it.The street swallowed him whole. Gunfire stitched the walls, chewing through plaster, kicking stone dust into the night air. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. His boots slammed against broken asphalt, each stride a hammer-beat in the chaos. The Resistance fighters behind him tried to follow, but the sheer force of the barrage pushed most of them down, pressed them flat.Ares didn’t flatten. He leaned into it.A round ripped past his cheek, so close it felt like a finger of fire brushing skin. Another slammed into the cracked road beside him, chipping up shards that cut his knuckles. His chest heaved, lungs dragging in air that smelled of metal, of burning oil, of bodies that hadn’t cooled yet. He kept moving.A scream tore out from his left - one of the young fighters, no older than Elijah. Ares’s head snapped that way but his body didn’t stop. He couldn’t. To stop now meant being buried. The scream cut off too fast. Ares tasted blood in his mouth that wa

Chapter 128 – Shadows of Old BrothersAnd neither was he.The words echoed inside him like a wound that refused to close. Ares didn’t lie down. Couldn’t. His body screamed for rest, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. The room was dark, but not silent - Elijah’s soft breathing. Mira’s faint shift against the wall. Every sound carried. Too sharp. Too close.Sleep should’ve been mercy. Instead it was another battlefield. Memories charging at him from all sides. He’d fought worse than this, yet the quiet always cut deepest.“You’re awake.” Mira’s voice. Not guessing. Knowing.“So are you,” he muttered back.She hugged her knees, head tilted toward him, her face half-shadow. “Do you ever think it stops?”A pause. He frowned. “What stops?”“All of it. Not the blood, not the fights. The way people stare. Like you’re not flesh. Just iron. Like you’re something built to kill.”Her words landed harder than she knew. He turned, studied her. In the dark, her eyes carried no armor. Just weariness. Hope

Only blood.The words lingered like smoke in Ares’s chest as the crowd broke apart. Whispers trailed into the alleys, running ahead of him like fire through dry grass. By morning, the whole city would be waiting at the river.Mira stayed close, one hand always near her blade. Elijah’s small grip clung to his father’s coat.They walked the quiet streets, shadows long, torches guttering in the wind. Behind shuttered windows, eyes watched. No one dared speak. Not to him. Not tonight.When they reached the safehouse, Elijah was half-asleep. Ares lifted him gently, carried him inside, laid him down on the cot. The boy curled instantly, breathing deep. For him, the storm hadn’t fully arrived yet.Mira shut the door, leaning back against it. She studied Ares in silence. His face was stone, but his shoulders - broad as they were -looked heavier than ever.“You don’t have to do this,” she said.“Yes,” he answered, without looking up.“It’s a trap,” she pressed. “He wants to bleed you out in fr

The duel had only begun.Steel slammed. Sparks leapt. The sound cracked through the dawn.Kael swung hard, too hard. He wanted to break bone, wanted to end this fast. His face was twisted, blood already streaked from an old scar torn open.Ares met every strike. His blade was steady, arms burning, breath even but heavy. He didn’t give Kael the satisfaction of faltering.“You’re slower,” Kael hissed.“You’re desperate,” Ares answered, low.The crowd pressed in. No one spoke loud. Just whispers. Just eyes wide. It wasn’t just a fight. It was history bleeding out in front of them.Kael struck again, wild. Ares blocked, pushed him back. Their boots dug trenches in the damp ground.“You should’ve stayed down in the dirt that day,” Kael growled. “Should’ve rotted with me.”Ares’s jaw locked tight. “I chose Elijah.”The boy’s name hit like a blade. Whispers rolled through the crowd -the son… the boy… his son.Kael’s laugh was broken, bitter. “Weakness. That’s all he gave you.”Ares shoved fo