Return of the God of war: Chaos awaits

Chapter 2

Amid the ruins of crushed stone and fractured concrete, one guard still stood.

Barely.

His body trembled uncontrollably, not just from pain but from something far worse, terror that had sunk deep into his bones. Blood streaked down his temple, dust clung to his uniform, and one of his boots was buried beneath rubble he no longer had the strength to move.

His chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked breaths.

“Who… who is that man?”

The thought echoed again and again in his mind, louder than the ringing in his ears.

He watched as the helicopter shrank into the darkened sky, its sound fading until only silence remained. A kind of unnatural silence that was heavy and oppressive,  like the air itself was afraid to move.

His shaking hands clenched into fists, then loosened again, fingers refusing to obey him.

He looked around slowly.  Nothing was left.

No pillars. No walls. No soldiers screaming orders or laughing in mockery.

Only destruction.

Bodies lay crushed into the earth, twisted beyond recognition. What had once been a fortified compound was now flattened into a graveyard of stone and blood.

His throat tightened.

“I must report to Commander Shaw…” he whispered hoarsely, forcing the words past his dry lips. “Lest he has no idea of what played tonight.”

Grimacing, he dragged himself free from the rubble, his breath hitching sharply as pain exploded through his leg. One knee was clearly dislocated, hanging at an unnatural angle, but fear drowned out the agony.

Survival came first.

With a final look at the devastation behind him, he staggered toward the woods, half limping, half crawling, disappearing into the darkness like a hunted animal fleeing for its life.

★★★

The helicopter descended smoothly onto the rooftop of a luxurious estate, its blades slicing through the air with disciplined precision.

As the landing gear touched down, the doors opened.

Draven stepped out.

Instantly, a thousand soldiers snapped to attention, boots striking the ground in perfect unison. The sound echoed like thunder across the rooftop.

“Sir!”

Their voices merged into one.

Draven acknowledged them with nothing more than a brief nod, his expression still. His back was covered with blood,  but none of it slowed his stride.

One soldier stepped forward.

“Sir,” he said. His name was Kylen, Draven’s right-hand man.

Unlike the others, Kylen was lightly equipped. No excessive armor. No heavy weapons. Just efficiency and discipline carved into flesh.

Draven walked past him, heading straight for the mansion doors.

“Tell me,”

Kylen matched his pace. “Your former estate is scheduled for demolition. Reconstruction orders were signed personally by Veyron Malhotra.”

Draven stopped suddenly and the air shifted. His eyes darkened.

“Get the car ready,” he ordered.

Kylen hesitated. “We’ll handle it, sir. You should rest.”

Draven turned his head slightly. Just enough.

Kylen felt it instantly, that invisible pressure, that wordless command that gave no room for argument.

He knew better than to push further.

He bowed his head and withdrew, leaving Draven to his privacy.

 Draven’s fingers curled slowly at his sides.

“Veyron Malhotra,” he said quietly. “You’re a walking corpse,” he thundered, the words vibrating with restrained annihilation.

★★★

The tires screamed as Draven’s car skidded to a halt in front of his estate.

The gate loomed ahead, black, massive, and guarded.

Draven yanked the door open with a sharp, violent motion.

“Hey you!!” a huge man in a black suit barked, striding toward him aggressively.

Draven ignored his presence.

He walked to the gate….

BANG!!!

With one kick, the massive iron gate burst open, slamming violently against the walls, revealing the scene unfolding Inside.

Machines waited, bulldozers, caterpillars, tractors. Men in black moved about with casual confidence, ready to tear the place apart.

“Are you deaf?!” the man shouted, rushing after Draven.

His voice drew attention. Heads turned. Eyes locked on him as he walked calmly into the center of their operation.

Reaching them, he stopped.

“You want to join your ancestors?” One of the men said, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. From his stance and his confidence, it was obvious he was their leader.

Draven turned, his eyes fell on the lounge chair adjacent to where he stood. He walked over it and sat casually on a lounge chair..

“You have one choice,” he said evenly. “Take your toys out of here and live in one piece. Or act like bulls and….”

“Hahaha.”

The leader laughed loudly, mockingly. The other men joined in, their voices echoing into the night.

“Did he just threaten us?” the leader said, grinning as he looked around.

Draven smirked and crossed his legs.

“He must be a lunatic,” someone scoffed. “Look at him all covered in blood.”

Laughter erupted again.

“Fire the engines,” The leader ordered, still laughing loudly.

“What a fool!”

Instantly the machines roared to life.

The leader snapped his fingers, signalling the bulldozers to move forward.

Draven stood to his feet, kicking the chair aside.

The leader walked up to him, stopping inches from his face.

“Thank your stars I’m in a good mood,” he said. “Else I would have crushed your skull for your audacity.”

BOOM!!!

Draven stomped his right foot, the force shoke the ground.

A violent gust of wind exploded outward.

BOW!!!

The machines sparked violently. Smoke poured from their engines like dying breaths.

Instantly silence fell.

The leader turned slowly, taken aback.

“Huh?”

“What just happened?” The other men just couldn't register what had just happened.

“You son of bitch” The leader cursed.

He drove his fist toward Draven’s face with murderous force.

But Draven seized his fist before it landed. His grip tightened, crushing his bones.

CRACK!!!!

The leader screamed bitterly in pain.

“My hand!!!” he howled.

Draven released him. The arm dropped limply, swaying like a dead leaf, its bones crushed as if they had been nothing at all.

The other men staggered backward, stunned, struggling to process what they had just witnessed.

Draven's eyes darkened with a smirk curved at the coner of his lips “I warned you.”

“You son of a bitch,” the leader snarled as pain consumed him.

The other men froze, stunned and disoriented, struggling to comprehend what they had just seen.

The leader forced his head up, rage burning through the agony in his eyes.

“What are you fools staring at?” he roared. “Kill the bastard!!!”

The men surged forward, fists and boots slicing through the air in wild arcs.

Draven remained unmoved, their attacks passing him like meaningless shadows.

He seized three incoming fists at once, his grip unyielding, and slammed them together as if they weighed nothing.

BOOM!!!

Skulls collided.

Bone scattered.

Their heads burst open on impact, blood exploding outward and splashing across Draven’s face.

He released their lifeless hands, their bodies crumpled instantly. Draven calmly brushed fragments of flesh and blood from his chest as though wiping away dust.

The remaining men scrambled backward in terror, boots slipping, breaths hitching.

“What… what is this guy?” one of them whispered.