The crystal chandeliers seemed to hold their breath as Sarah Moon stood before Marcus, her dark eyes burning with an intensity that made the air itself crackle with tension. Every supernatural being in the ballroom leaned forward, sensing they were about to witness something that would reshape the power dynamics of their entire world.
Sarah's voice rang out clear and confident, carrying across the silent ballroom like a royal decree.
"Marcus, I want you to be my partner."
The words hit the crowd like a lightning strike. Gasps echoed through the opulent space as supernatural elites struggled to process what they had just heard. Crystal glasses slipped from nerveless fingers, shattering against the marble floor in a symphony of disbelief.
"Did she just—?"
"Sarah Moon... proposing to him?"
"This can't be real!"
"The most powerful woman in New York just—"
Diana Sterling felt the world tilt beneath her feet. Her ice-blue eyes went wide with shock and something that might have been panic. Sarah Moon—CEO of Moon Enterprises, the woman who makes deals worth billions, who commands respect from supernatural councils across continents—is confessing to Marcus?
The man she had dismissed as worthless garbage was now being courted by someone who made Diana look like a small-town mayor trying to impress a queen.
"This is impossible," Diana whispered, her voice cracking with disbelief. "He's nobody! He's nothing!"
But even as the words left her mouth, doubt gnawed at her confidence like acid.
The wealthy young men who had spent the evening mocking Marcus now stared at him with expressions of pure, venomous jealousy.
"How is this happening?" a man in a diamond-studded watch hissed. "I've been trying to get Sarah Moon's attention for three years!"
"This street rat just walked in and she's throwing herself at him?" another snarled. "What kind of sick joke is this?"
"He must have some kind of supernatural charm or mind control!" a third suggested desperately. "There's no other explanation!"
Becoming Sarah's partner would mean more than wealth, the thought rippled through the crowd like wildfire. It would mean influence that rivals the supernatural council itself. Power beyond imagination.
Every single person in that ballroom understood they were watching someone ascend to heights they could never reach.
Then Marcus did something that defied all logic and expectation.
He remained perfectly calm, studying Sarah's beautiful face with the same detached interest he might show a mildly curious painting. When he spoke, his voice carried no excitement, no gratitude, no overwhelming joy.
"I cannot give you an answer right now. Let us discuss this later."
The silence that followed was so complete that people could hear their own heartbeats thundering in their ears.
"WHAT?!" someone screamed from the back of the crowd.
"Did he just... turn her down?"
"He's refusing Sarah Moon?!"
"Has he completely lost his mind?!"
Alexander Cross, still nursing his wounded pride and bleeding lip, stared at Marcus as if he were watching someone commit suicide in slow motion. "You absolute idiot! Do you have any idea what you just did?!"
"Sarah Moon doesn't make offers twice!" a woman shrieked. "You just threw away the chance of a lifetime!"
"He must be brain damaged from all that poverty!" another guest added with cruel laughter. "Too stupid to recognize a miracle when it hits him in the face!"
But Sarah Moon surprised them all again.
Instead of anger or wounded pride, her lips curved into a smile that was equal parts amused and intrigued. Her dark eyes sparkled with something that might have been respect.
"Very well," Sarah said, her voice carrying the confident patience of someone who had never been denied anything she truly wanted. "I shall await your decision."
The crowd's shock reached new heights.
"She's... waiting for him?"
"Sarah Moon is waiting for some nobody to make up his mind?"
"This has to be a dream. This has to be some kind of supernatural hallucination!"
Diana felt something cold and bitter rising in her throat. He refused her. He actually refused the most powerful woman in New York. And she's... she's willing to wait?
For the first time since this nightmare began, Diana wondered if she had made the most catastrophic mistake of her life.
Marcus turned toward the ballroom exit with the same casual indifference he had shown all evening. "The celebration was... interesting. But I have other matters to attend to."
Sarah fell into step beside him, her midnight gown flowing like liquid shadow. Her smile never wavered, as if walking away from a room full of New York's supernatural elite was the most natural thing in the world.
"Shall we go somewhere more private to continue our conversation?" Sarah asked, her voice carrying implications that made several men in the crowd whimper with envy.
Victor Moon let out a bark of delighted laughter, clearly pleased with how the evening had unfolded. "Sarah always did have excellent taste in men!"
Jake Moon shook his head in amazement. "I've never seen anyone handle her like that. Impressive."
The entire Moon family treated Marcus's casual dismissal as if it were the most natural response in the world—as if they expected nothing less from someone of his caliber.
As the group reached the ballroom doors, Marcus felt another surge of memories crash through his consciousness like a tidal wave. Standing before armies that stretched beyond the horizon, supernatural beings from dozens of dimensions kneeling in acknowledgment of his authority. The weight of divine power that had once been his to command. The title that had struck fear into the hearts of gods and demons alike: Marcus, the God of War.
The memories were coming faster now, triggered by each confrontation, each display of the power he was only beginning to remember.
The ballroom doors closed behind them with a soft click that sounded like thunder in the oppressive silence.
Diana stood frozen in the center of the emptying ballroom, her face pale with the dawning realization of what she had lost. Compared to Sarah Moon's effortless confidence and power, Diana felt like a child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes.
What have I done? The question tortured her with its simplicity. What have I thrown away?
Alexander Cross stumbled over to her, his face still swollen from Marcus's casual humiliation. "Diana, don't let this get to you. He's still a fraud, and Sarah's just been deceived like everyone else."
His voice cracked with desperate conviction. "The Cross family has connections throughout the supernatural underworld. We'll expose him for what he really is. We'll crush him and show everyone that—"
"Shut up, Alexander," Diana whispered, her voice hollow with defeat.
The remaining guests began filing out of the ballroom, their conversations a mixture of shock, speculation, and fear.
"Did you see how the Moons treated him?"
"Like he was more important than they are."
"What if he really is someone powerful? What if we've all made a terrible mistake?"
"The Sterlings are finished. Completely finished."
As the last of the crowd departed, Diana Sterling stood alone in her family's ballroom, surrounded by the shattered remnants of her certainty. The man she had dismissed as worthless had just walked away with the most coveted woman in New York—and somehow, that felt like the least shocking thing that had happened tonight.
Who is Marcus Steele? The question echoed in the empty ballroom like a prayer to gods who might not be listening.
Outside, Marcus walked into the New York night with Sarah Moon at his side and the weight of returning memories pressing against his consciousness like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.
Soon, very soon, the God of War would fully awaken.

Latest Chapter
Diana’s New Reality
Diana remained silent. She was unable to. The white sheet covering her grandfather's face billowed slightly in the breeze as his body was pushed into the chilly storage room, and she remained motionless. "Deceased: Authorized Personnel Only" was prominently displayed on the door. However, it might as well have said "No Going Back to Diana.” The nurse by the entrance was interrupted by the two men wheeling the gurney. She hardly heard them. Her gaze was focused on the lone bare hand that was visible through the sheet; it was creased, recognizable, and still. She had once been lifted when she fell by the same hand. When she questioned why the moon never slept, it was the same hand that proudly gestured to the stars. It simply rested now. Like it didn't have anything else to do on this planet. Before she heard the last hollow thud of the doors locking, she turned before they closed.After a few minutes, Diana left the hospital in silence, refusing to answer the nurses' attempts to
The Room after
It was suddenly too quiet in the room. Too still. With her fingers still gripping his hand as though she could hold on long enough to bring him back, Diana remained motionless. However, he had vanished. Additionally, a flat, piercing tone had long since replaced the heart monitor's continuous, sharp beep. It sounded louder than it ought to have. One that slashed through the silence like a terrible memory. She reached cautiously for the call button by the bed, her throat burning. Thumb shaking, she pressed it once. The nurse entered as the door softly opened a few seconds later. Before she even spoke, her look spoke all. The woman whispered, "Miss Sterling, I'm so sorry." "Want to have a little time before we... before we take him?" Diana remained silent. She was unable to. She gave a faint nod. After a moment of hesitation, the nurse approached the bed and covered his motionless face with a clean white sheet. Diana's fingers pressed into her coat sleeve as she observed the move
Dust, duty, and death
With a heavy thud, the shovel cut into the ground. Marcus let out a breath as he pressed the metal further into the ground, his muscles tensing with every motion, the ground damp and cold under his boots. His hands were already scorched, even though the grave wasn't very deep yet. He continued. A neglected clearing in the woods behind the old training house, where Chronos had once taught him how to carry a sword and how to hold his tongue was illuminated by the sun's drab rays as it had just begun to rise. Not a servant. Not a guard. Only Marcus. And the quiet. He stopped when the hole was sufficiently deep, the world still around him, the perspiration still clinging to his back beneath his shirt. He looked at the white linen-wrapped body next to him, respectfully and neatly tied. Chronos had detested luxury. "The loudest funerals are for the ones who didn't listen when they were alive," he had always said. Marcus gripped the edge of the grave and gulped hard. He whispered, "You
The Only Reason
Except the wall clock's gentle ticking and the occasional ruffle of the curtains the breeze pushed through the slightly cracked window, the room was still. Sarah's silk robe slid smoothly over her bare legs as she sat cross-legged on her spacious canopy bed. The beautiful rose-gold tone of the cloth complemented the soft colors of her bedroom, which included blush accents, ivory walls, and a delicate chandelier that threw warm light glints over her vintage vanity table and bookshelves. A velvet sleep mask lay on the bedside, forgotten, and her hair was unbound, cascading down her back in soft waves. She hadn't slept. Not at all. Not since Marcus's departure. Her eyes strayed to the unfinished teacup next to her bed. chilly. Similar to the quiet that had surrounded her all day. A lot had transpired. Too much. She detested the weight in her chest, the anticipation, the uncertainty, and the pain that accompanied comprehending how profoundly a person's absence could reverberate thro
For Her
As if they were weary of hearing, the candles flickered low, their flames slender and twitchy. The tiny subterranean room felt chilly, not only from a lack of heat but also from aging. The stone walls were wet with ancient wetness, and dust clung to the corners. Chalk was used to draw a circle of black runes on the floor, almost smeared by too many pacing feet. With his coat still on and the sleeves stretched past his forearms, Harrison sat by himself in the room, his creases as sharp as if he hadn't slept in days. His brown hair hung freely across his forehead, his shirt was half-buttoned, and his boots were dirty. He appeared to be a man who had lost the ability to sleep. The crystal, dark and slightly humming, was perched on an ancient marble pedestal in the center of the room. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw as he peered at it. He whispered, "I know you're still in there." His voice reverberated a little. They believe you posed a threat. that you were a thing that h
Don't Walk Away
She didn't knock. Sarah opened his door as soon as she got there; it was too loud and too quick, as if he might vanish if she waited another second. Half-hunched over his duffel bag, Marcus stood close to his bed. He had his back to her. The strap was gripped in one hand. The other lay on a shirt that he hadn't packed yet, folded. He paused at the sound of the door. He straightened slowly and glanced over his shoulder. They looked at each other. He seems unsurprised. She didn't appear composed. With a tighter voice than she intended, she questioned, "Are you leaving?" With a quiet sigh, he turned to look at her. "I intended to inform you." "When?" Her voice became piercing. "After you left my pillow with a note? Or should another maid have told me?” Marcus ran a hand down his face and looked away. “Sarah…” "No," she replied as she entered and closed the door. "No more silent departures. Stop acting like none of this is important.”He didn't answer. She examined the bag. Not ful
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