GOD OF WAR REBORN

The Brother who Betrayed him

The spear fell like lightning.

Tharos caught it. Bare-handed.

His boots skidded across the cracked stone as the impact sent a shockwave tearing through the clearing. Red sparks rained around him like burning rain, his muscles screamed, tendons stretched, but he held the spear in place.

Varik’s eyes widened, not with surprise. But with memory, with recognition and with something dangerously close to fear.

“You shouldn’t have been able to stop that,” Varik muttered.

Tharos tightened his grip, burning pain slicing across his palms where divine metal seared into flesh. “You shouldn’t have tried to kill me.”

Varik twisted the spear, the weapon burned hotter, pushing him back. Tharos gritted his teeth, holding the weapon with both hands now.

Lyra sprinted up the slope. “Tharos! Move!”

Varik didn’t even look her way. A flick of his wrist sent a pulse of red light exploding outward.

It hit Lyra like a hammer.

She flew backward, crashing into a cluster of rocks. Dust exploded around her body, she didn’t get up.

Tharos’s rage snapped.

He roared and shoved the spear aside, forcing Varik back several steps. The ground cracked beneath them both.

Varik steadied himself, jaw tense.

“You’ve grown strong,” he said quietly. “Too strong, too fast.”

Tharos advanced.

Varik didn’t retreat. Not yet.

He lowered the spear slightly, not in surrender, but like someone preparing to talk instead of kill.

“Tharos,” he said. “Listen to me”

“No.” Tharos’s voice dripped with fury. “You come out of the mountain like a storm. You attack me, you throw Lyra around like a toy and now you want to talk?”

Varik’s jaw clenched, conflicted shadows crossing his face.

“I had to test you,” Varik said.

“Bullshit,” Tharos snapped.

“You don’t understand what your return means.”

“Then explain.” Tharos stepped forward, fists tight. “Explain why a god I fought beside… now wants me dead.”

Varik’s expression twisted painfully like someone being torn in two.

“One day,” he said, “…you’ll remember.”

Tharos growled and lunged.

Varik raised the spear, it clashed against Tharos’s fist with a burst of red light that shook the cliffside. Sparks burned through Tharos’s knuckles, but he didn’t stop.

Their fight became fast, so fast for any mortal to follow.

Tharos swung, Varik blocked, Varik thrust, Tharos sidestepped. 

Stone shattered beneath their feet with every movement.

Varik kicked off the ground, spinning mid-air, spear slicing toward Tharos’s throat. Tharos ducked and slammed his elbow into Varik’s ribs.

Varik grunted, staggered.

Tharos smirked. “Not as strong as you thought.”

Varik’s eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. “Not as weak as you were meant to be.”

He charged again. The spear swept low, humming with power. Tharos jumped over it and punched down from above.

Varik disappeared.

Only for a blink.

He reappeared behind Tharos, elbow slamming into his spine. Tharos stumbled forward on one knee, breath punched out of him.

Varik’s voice was low. “You’ve always underestimated me.”

Tharos rose slowly, muscles trembling, not from weakness, but from something deeper.

Memory, flashes of how, Varik laughing beside him, fighting beside him and even kneeling beside him as he bled out. Varik holding him down.

Tharos blinked hard.

The memory vanished before he could fully grasp it.

Varik noticed.

His expression shifted sharply. “You’re remembering.”

Tharos said nothing.

Varik stepped closer, spear lowered. “Tharos… we don’t have to be enemies.”

“You attacked me.”

“To test you.” His voice cracked slightly. “To see how much of the old you survived.”

“That’s not a test,” Tharos said coldly. “That’s betrayal.”

Varik’s face twisted. “You don’t understand. I didn’t want to be part of what happened to you. I—”

“Then why did you hold me down?” Tharos snapped.

Varik froze. And Tharos knew, even without full memory. He knew.

Varik swallowed, eyes dropping for the first time. “You weren’t supposed to remember that.”

Tharos took a single step forward.

Varik took half a step back.

Lyra groaned somewhere behind them, regaining consciousness.

Tharos didn’t look at her.

He kept his eyes locked on the god he once trusted.

Varik lifted the spear again, but slower this time, hands shaking.

“Tharos,” he said softly. “You think things are simple. You think there was loyalty and betrayal and nothing in between. But you’re wrong.”

“Then tell me what happened,” Tharos demanded.

Varik hesitated.

Then something snapped in his expression.

Fear.

“Telling you would kill us both,” Varik whispered. “You’re not ready to know.”

Tharos clenched his fists. “I’ll decide what I’m ready to know.”

Varik’s gaze hardened. “You were always stubborn.”

“And you were always a coward.”

Varik flinched.

And then his face changed.

Not angry. Not furious.

Hurt.

Real, painful hurt.

“You think I wanted any of this?” Varik spat. “You think I wanted to be the one standing there when they—”

He cut himself off.

Too late.

Tharos stepped forward. “When they, what?”

Varik looked away.

Danger signs shot through Tharos’s bones.

“Varik,” he growled. “Tell me what happened.”

Varik took another step back.

“We can’t do this now,” he said. “You’re waking too fast and they felt your power when you killed the constructs. More are coming.”

“Let them come,” Tharos snarled.

Varik shook his head. “You don’t understand. If they arrive now, I can’t protect you. I won’t be able to stop what’s coming.”

Lyra finally dragged herself to her feet, wiped blood from her mouth, and raised her daggers.

“Protect?” she spat. “Is that what you call attacking us?”

Varik didn’t even look at her.

“All of this,” he said to Tharos, “is worse than you think. The pantheon isn’t united anymore. Half want you dead and the other half want you captured.”

“And you?” Tharos asked quietly. “What do you want?”

Silence.

Varik closed his eyes for one second.

A second too long.

Tharos saw everything in that silence.

Pain. Regret. Fear. Guilt.

And something else.

Something sharp.

Intent.

“Varik,” Tharos said, voice low, “you came here to kill me.”

Varik didn’t deny it.

He didn’t nod.

He simply opened his eyes, and the truth was there.

“I came here,” Varik whispered, “to stop you from reaching Elyndor.”

Tharos didn’t breathe. “Why?”

Varik’s voice cracked.

“Because you’ll burn it.”

The words hit like a blade.

Because Tharos knew, deep inside, they were true.

He didn’t know how. He didn’t know why.

But something in his bones whispered that if he reached the Divine Realm…

…he wouldn’t leave anything standing.

Lyra stepped beside Tharos. “Great. Another god talking in riddles.”

Varik’s expression tightened as he looked at her for the first time.

“You shouldn’t be near him,” Varik said coldly. “He’ll drag you into a war you can’t survive.”

Lyra lifted her chin. “Let me worry about that.”

Varik scoffed. “Mortals. Always so eager to die for someone they barely know.”

Lyra glared. “I’m not dying for him.”

Tharos glanced at her.

Lyra looked away quickly. “I’m just not letting him die. That’s all.”

Varik’s gaze sharpened. “You’re dangerous for him.”

“Good,” she snapped.

Varik stepped forward, spear tip dragging sparks across the stone.

“Tharos,” he said quietly. “Walk away from her. She’ll be the one that breaks you.”

Tharos’s jaw tightened. “She stays.”

Varik shook his head, disappointed. “Then so be it.”

He lifted the spear high and the air around them began to crackle with red lightning.

Tharos roared and charged.

Varik swung the spear downward.

But this time, Tharos was faster.

He grabbed the spear with both hands, twisted, and slammed Varik against the cliff wall. The impact split the stone in a spiderweb crack.

Varik coughed blood, stunned.

Tharos’s voice rumbled like thunder. “I’m done talking.”

Varik wiped blood from his mouth, eyes burning. “You always were.”

He kicked Tharos away and lunged.

But Tharos was ready.

He caught Varik’s wrist. Twisted. Pulled.

Varik flipped over his shoulder and crashed onto the ground, spear clattering away.

Tharos stomped on the shaft, snapping it in half.

Varik froze.

His breath hitched.

He stared at the broken weapon like Tharos had just ripped out a piece of his soul.

“That spear…” Varik whispered. “…you once gave it to me.”

Tharos blinked.

The memory hit him like a punch.

Standing on a battlefield of gold. Handing Varik the spear. Saying, “Fight beside me. Always.”

Tharos staggered.

Varik rose slowly, eyes dark with emotion.

“You don’t remember,” Varik said softly. “But I do.”

Tharos swallowed hard, chest tight.

Varik took a breath that shook. “I never wanted to be your enemy.”

“Then why—”

Varik cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“It’s too late.”

The air behind Varik suddenly changed.

A golden crack tore open in the sky.

A portal.

Divine energy spilled out like a tidal wave.

Lyra staggered back. “What the hell is that?”

Varik stepped toward the portal. “The others are coming.”

He looked at Tharos one last time.

Conflicted. Pained. Broken.

“Don’t follow me,” Varik whispered. “Not yet.”

Tharos took a step forward. “Varik—”

Varik slipped into the golden crack and vanished.

The portal snapped shut behind him, leaving the cliffs silent.

Lyra breathed hard. “Well… that was a mess.”

Tharos stood frozen.

Bleeding. Breathing hard. Heart racing.

Varik’s last words echoed in his mind.

Not yet.

The others are coming.

You’ll burn Elyndor.

A cold wind swept across the cliff.

Tharos finally whispered:

“…I won’t let him run forever.”

Lyra looked at him, eyes dark and steady. “Then we hunt him.”

Before Tharos could answer. The sky above them cracked open with another burst of golden light, not a portal, not a god.

Something worse.

Lyra grabbed his arm hard. “Tharos… what is that?!”

Tharos stared up, gut turning to stone.

He didn’t know.

But whatever it was, It wasn’t a friend. And it wasn’t alone.

The light expanded and dozens of shapes began falling through.

Clawing. Screaming. Descending.

Lyra’s breath hitched. “Oh, shit—”

Tharos stepped forward, fists clenching.

His eyes glowed faint gold.

“Then we fight.”