GOD OF WAR: THE SYSTEM OF VENGEANCE

Chapter 7 - Glow of power

By evening, Damon had walked fifteen miles through the city, avoiding main streets and security cameras. His stomach felt like it was eating itself, and his clothes were starting to smell like the alleys he'd been hiding in.

He ducked into a McDonald's bathroom, staring at his reflection under harsh fluorescent lights.

The healing was still happening—bruises fading to yellow, cuts sealing themselves. But he looked like hell warmed over.

"Okay," he said to the empty bathroom. "Time for some answers."

[QUERY ACKNOWLEDGED.]

"I need somewhere to sleep. Food. Basic human necessities." He felt ridiculous talking to a voice in his head, but what choice did he have? "Don't systems usually provide resources? Money? Equipment?"

[UNCLEAR REQUEST. PLEASE SPECIFY DESIRED ASSISTANCE.]

"Money! I need money!" He kept his voice low, but frustration leaked through. "Every game I've ever played, every story I've read—the magical system gives the hero resources. Where's my starter pack?"

[REVIEWING STANDARD PROTOCOL...]

[ACCESSING EMERGENCY FUNDS...]

[ERROR: AMOUNT REQUESTED NOT SPECIFIED.]

Damon rubbed his temples. "How much can you give me?"

[MAXIMUM EMERGENCY ALLOCATION: $1,000,000 USD.]

"A million?" His voice cracked. "You can just... give me a million dollars?"

[CORRECTION: MAXIMUM RECOMMENDED INITIAL ALLOCATION: $100,000. LARGER AMOUNTS ATTRACT UNWANTED ATTENTION.]

"You're worried about attracting attention?

You just made me slap someone across a room!"

[POINT TAKEN. TRANSFERRING $100,000 TO SECURE ACCOUNT.]

His phone buzzed—somehow the cracked screen still worked. A banking app notification showed a deposit that made his eyes water. One hundred thousand dollars from

"Anonymous Benefactor LLC."

"This is real money? Not Monopoly money?"

[CURRENCY VERIFICATION: AUTHENTIC. SOURCE: BLACKWOOD FAMILY OFFSHORE ACCOUNTS.]

"You're stealing from my own family?"

[CORRECTION: RETRIEVING FUNDS THAT WERE STOLEN FROM YOU. CONSIDER IT BACK PAY.]

Despite everything, Damon almost smiled.

"You're stealing my uncle's money to fund my revenge against my uncle."

[POETIC JUSTICE SUBROUTINE ACTIVATED.]

"Did you just make a joke?"

[HUMOR PROTOCOLS... UNCERTAIN. FOCUSING ON MISSION PARAMETERS.]

An hour later, Damon stood in the marble lobby of the Meridian Grand—the same building where Adrian lived, but thirty floors below the penthouse.

The night manager barely glanced at his torn clothes when the

black American Express card cleared.

"Imperial Suite. Thirty-second floor." The key card felt like salvation in his hand. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Smith."

The elevator ride felt endless. When the doors opened to reveal a suite larger than most apartments, Damon just stood there for a moment, overwhelmed.

Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city lights. A king-sized bed dominated one wall, while a marble bathroom the size of his old office waited beyond frosted glass doors.

"Fifteen thousand a night," he said to the empty room. "For one night, I'm spending more than some people make in a year."

[WEALTH IS A TOOL. USE IT WISELY.]

The hot shower was a religious experience. As steaming water washed away two days of grime and humiliation, Damon felt something shifting inside him. The heat was still there,

but controlled now. Purposeful.

When he stepped out and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he froze.

The changes were subtle but unmistakable.

His shoulders looked broader. His chest more defined. Even his posture had shifted—straighter, more confident.

"How is this possible?"

[CELLULAR REGENERATION INCLUDES OPTIMIZATION. YOUR BODY IS BEING RESTORED TO ITS IDEAL STATE.]

He touched a scar on his shoulder from a childhood accident—a white line he'd carried for twenty years. As his finger traced the mark, it faded completely.

"You're rewriting my DNA."

[UNLOCKING DORMANT POTENTIAL. THE BLOODLINE OF ARES CARRIES CERTAIN... ADVANTAGES.]

By midnight, every old injury had vanished.

The broken nose from prep school boxing. The appendectomy scar. Even a birthmark on his wrist had disappeared like it never existed.

Damon woke to sunlight streaming through silk curtains and the unfamiliar sensation of feeling completely healthy. No aches. No

stiffness. He felt like he could run a marathon.

[TRANSFORMATION: 47% COMPLETE.]

[NEW QUEST AVAILABLE.]

"Already?" He stretched, muscles moving with fluid precision. "What now?"

[QUEST PARAMETERS LOADING...]

But before the screen could appear, his enhanced hearing picked up familiar voices in the hallway.

"—told you he was staying here. The credit card activity—"

"Are you sure it's safe? After what happened to Adrian?"

Claire and security guards. Here. Now.

Damon threw on the hotel robe and peered through the peephole. Claire stood outside with three men in black suits—serious muscle, not rent-a-cops.

"He's dangerous," she was saying.

"Completely unhinged. Adrian's still in the hospital."

[BATTLE SENSE ACTIVE. ANALYZING THREATS.]

Red outlines appeared around each guard.

Their weapons, their stance, their blind spots—everything laid out like a tactical briefing.

Guard One: Glock 19, ankle holster. Favors right side due to old shoulder injury. Guard Two: Expandable baton, confident but sloppy footwork. Guard Three: Taser, nervous, finger already on the trigger.

The knowledge was just... there. Like he'd studied these men for hours instead of seconds.

A knock echoed through the suite.

"Hotel security! Open up!"

Damon almost laughed. After everything—the public humiliation, the false accusations, the exile—Claire was still hunting him.

"One moment!" he called out, buying time.

[RECOMMENDATION: ELIMINATE THREATS.]

"I'm not killing anyone."

[CLARIFICATION: NEUTRALIZE, NOT ELIMINATE. SHOW MERCY IS WEAKNESS.]

"Sometimes mercy is strength."

[PHILOSOPHICAL DEBATE NOTED. HOWEVER, TACTICAL SITUATION REQUIRES IMMEDIATE ACTION.]

The door shook under heavy impacts. They weren't waiting for permission anymore.

Damon opened the door just as the first guard's boot connected with empty air. The man stumbled into the suite, off-balance and surprised.

"Gentlemen," Damon said calmly. "Can I help you?"

"You're under citizen's arrest," Claire pushed past the guards, imperious in her designer suit. "For assault on Adrian Blackwood."

She stopped short when she saw him.

"My God," she whispered.

Damon knew what she was seeing. The transformation wasn't complete, but it was obvious. His skin had a healthy glow. His frame had filled out. Even his hair looked thicker, more lustrous.

"You look..." she started, then caught herself. "Different."

"Clean living." He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Amazing what a good night's sleep can do."

The first guard moved to grab his arm. Damon sidestepped effortlessly, his enhanced reflexes making the man's movements look

sluggish.

"Sir, don't make this difficult."

"I'm not making anything difficult." Damon's voice remained perfectly calm. "You're

trespassing in my room."

Guard Two swung his baton at Damon's head.

The weapon never connected.

Damon caught the man's wrist mid-swing, fingers closing like a steel trap. A gentle squeeze, and the baton clattered to the floor.

"My wrist!" The guard dropped to his knees.

"You're breaking my wrist!"

"Sorry." Damon released him. "I don't know my own strength these days."

Guard Three raised his Taser, but Damon was already moving.

He crossed the space between them in two fluid steps, plucked the weapon from the man's hands, and tossed it out the window.

Thirty-two floors down.

"Oops."

The three guards looked at each other, then at Damon, then at the open window.

Professional security or not, they weren't stupid.

"Maybe we should call for backup," Guard One suggested.

"Good idea," Damon agreed. "You'll need it."

Claire stepped forward, chin raised defiantly.

"You can't intimidate me. I know who you really are."

"Do you?" Damon tilted his head. "Because I'm starting to think I never knew myself."

[TRANSFORMATION: 52% COMPLETE.]

[PHEROMONE ENHANCEMENT ACTIVE.]

Something shifted in Claire's expression. Her pupils dilated slightly. She took an

unconscious step closer.

"You're different," she said again, but this time her voice carried a different note. "How

are you different?"

The attraction was subtle but unmistakable. Whatever the system was doing to his body, it included more than just strength and healing.

"Claire." One of the guards tugged at her sleeve. "We should go."

She ignored him, eyes locked on Damon's face. "Your skin... it's actually glowing."

"Is it?" Damon moved closer, and she didn't

step back. "Funny how quickly things change."

"I... we should..." But she wasn't leaving.

The guard cleared his throat. "Ma'am? The police are waiting downstairs."

That broke the spell. Claire blinked, shaking her head like someone waking from a dream.

"Right. Yes." She backed toward the door. "This isn't over, Damon."

"No," he agreed, smiling that cold new smile. "It isn't."

As they retreated, Damon caught his reflection in the suite's window.

His eyes flashed red for just an instant—too quick for the security cameras to catch, but long enough for him to see.

The hunger was still growing.

This is just the beginning.