THE GOD OF WAR'S RETURN: ADRIAN'S SECOND CHANCE

A Deal with the Unknown

Adrian’s body felt like it was sinking.

The cold stone floor faded beneath him. The pain in his side dulled, replaced by something more strange, a weightless, floating feeling. His vision blurred into blackness.

Then, a voice.

“Do you wish to change your fate?”

It was neither male nor female. It was deep yet soft, like the wind whispering through trees.

Adrian’s breath hitched. He should be dead. He had felt the dagger pierce him, the warmth of his own blood spilling onto the ground. Yet he was still here.

The darkness around him shifted, forming faint shapes, shadowy figures that raced at the edges of sight, as though watching.

“Do you wish to change your fate?”

The voice came again. Stronger this time. Closer.

Adrian’s fingers twitched. His body felt sluggish, heavy. He tried to speak, but his throat was dry, his tongue useless.

Was this a dream? Or something else?

He forced himself to think. If he was dead, there should be nothing. No pain. No awareness. But here he was, alive, thinking, feeling.

Killian’s smirk flashed in his mind.

Seraphina’s dagger.

The betrayal.

His chest tightened with anger.

He clenched his fists.

“Yes.”

The shadows rippled.

A figure emerged from the darkness, tall and cloaked in something that shifted like smoke or mist. Its face was hidden, but its glowing silver eyes burned into him with unnatural intensity.

“Then we have a deal.”

Pain rushed back.

A sharp, agonizing pull dragged Adrian out of the darkness. His lungs burned as air tore into him. His body jerked, cold, aching, alive.

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on rough ground, the sky above him dark with rolling clouds. Rain poured, soaking his clothes until they clung to his skin. His breaths came in heavy, ragged gasps.

For a moment, he just lay there, his mind spinning.

He touched his side. The wound was gone.

No blood. No pain. As if it had never happened.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Adrian pushed himself up, his arms shaking with the effort. Where was he?

His surroundings were nothing but endless ruins: crumbled stone, broken pillars, shattered buildings overrun by thick vines. The air smelled of damp earth and something older, something that seemed to hum beneath the surface.

He staggered to his feet.

This was not the palace. Not the great hall where he had fallen.

This was somewhere ancient. Forgotten.

“A gift has been given.”

The voice again.

Adrian turned sharply, scanning the ruins. No one stood there.

“But a price must be paid.”

The air grew colder.

Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Who are you?”

The voice echoed through the ruins, surrounding him.

“One who has waited.”

A gust of wind swept through, carrying whispers, faint and endless, countless voices speaking at once in tones that made his skin tingle.

Adrian’s muscles tensed.

“You were wronged. Betrayed. Stolen from.”

The words cut deep. His hands curled into fists.

“Do you wish for power?”

A slow exhale left his lips.

He thought of Killian, his smug face, his easy laughter as he forced a knife into his back.

He thought of Seraphina, her empty apology, her cold eyes.

He thought of his warriors, men he trusted, who had abandoned him in seconds.

His blood boiled.

“Yes,” he growled.

A low hum vibrated in the air. The ruins seemed to tremble. Something unseen stirred, vast and waiting.

“Then power you shall have.”

A blazing pain tore through Adrian’s body, like fire racing inside his veins. He gritted his teeth, his vision flashing white as the agony consumed him.

When it passed, he staggered but did not fall.

Something felt different. Heavier. Stronger.

His breathing was steady, his heartbeat slower. Controlled. Powerful.

He looked down at his hands. His fingers curled, and a faint pulse of energy flashed beneath his skin, as though light had been buried in his blood.

Whatever had just happened, he was no longer the same.

Adrian stood there for a long moment, letting the rain wash over him.

His mind was clear.

His anger was steady.

He had been given a second chance.

Not just to live.

To take back everything that was stolen.

Killian thought he was dead.

Seraphina thought she had won.

His warriors believed they had chosen the stronger leader.

They were all wrong.

Adrian exhaled slowly, raising his gaze to the stormy sky.

“They took my throne.”

“They took my life.”

“Now, I will take everything from them.”

Lightning flashed.

The war for vengeance had begun.