The last warlord

The Burden of the Gods

The instant the artifact claimed him, Adrian felt a flood of energy rush through his body—a torrent of ancient, divine power that seemed to tear at the very fabric of his being. It wasn’t just strength. It was rage, grief, and the unrelenting pull of the war that had once been his life. His body convulsed with the force of it, his muscles aching as though they were being stretched and reshaped. His vision blurred, the room spinning as if the world itself were unraveling around him.

In the darkness of the abandoned church, the Guardian’s words echoed in his mind: “Once you take what is offered, there is no turning back.”

Adrian gritted his teeth and fought to stay grounded, but the surge of power only grew stronger, filling him with a maddening, intoxicating energy. The shadows in the corners of the room deepened, stretching like living things, as though the war that had once raged in his soul was coming back to life.

His hands shook, and his heart raced. It wasn’t just the power coursing through him. It was the memories—the wars, the battles, the endless killing—returning in waves, each more overwhelming than the last. He could see the faces of fallen warriors, hear the screams of the dying, and feel the weight of countless lives lost under his command.

This is what you wanted, the voice of the Guardian said from the darkness. The power of a god, but also the price. You are not simply Adrian anymore. You are a part of something ancient—a force of destruction and war.

Adrian staggered, his vision sharp and then hazy again. The artifact had given him power, but it had also bound him to something far older and darker than he could comprehend. He wasn’t just fighting for his place in the world—he was battling something far more insidious: the gods he once was, the wars they fought, and the curse of eternal conflict that came with it.

“NO!” he screamed, clutching his head, trying to block out the voices of the fallen warriors that echoed in his mind. The sounds of steel clashing, of shields breaking, and of the cries of the dying swirled around him, drowning out all other thought. “I don’t want this!”

But it was too late.

Adrian felt the ground tremble beneath his feet, and his body shifted uncontrollably as the power began to take root within him. His vision cleared briefly, and he saw the ruins of the church around him—a sacred space long forgotten by mortals, now defiled by the very essence of his godhood. The walls cracked as though the building itself were groaning under the weight of what was happening.

A sharp, painful clarity pierced through his mind. The artifacts weren’t just objects of power; they were anchors to the ancient wars. And Adrian had just become a part of them.

You’re not ready for this, the Guardian’s voice rang out again, this time clearer than before. No one is. The artifact demands more than you can give, and it will take what it needs, regardless of your desires. You may call yourself a god, but you’ve forgotten the cost of wielding that power. Blood is always demanded—your own, and the blood of those who follow you.

The power surged again, and for a moment, Adrian thought he might collapse under its weight. His mind reeled, and his body trembled as images of war—ancient, brutal—flashed through his vision. He was no longer simply a man on the streets, struggling to survive. He was now something far darker, something that had been asleep for centuries and was now awakening within him.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind him. Adrian turned sharply to see the Guardian standing in the doorway, his glowing red eyes fixed on him.

“You’ve made your choice,” the Guardian said softly, his tone almost pitying. “And now, you must live with the consequences.”

Adrian’s heart pounded. “What do you mean? This power is mine! I can control it. I will control it!”

The Guardian shook his head slowly. “You think you can control this power? You will be nothing more than a vessel for it, Adrian. A vessel for war. You will fight. You will kill. And when you’re finished, you will destroy everything around you, because that’s what gods of war do.”

Adrian’s vision darkened again, the air thick with a pressure that felt as though the very world was closing in on him. He clenched his fists, and for the first time, he felt the urge to tear something apart. To fight. To prove that he wasn’t just a victim of his own power.

“You think I can’t handle it?” Adrian spat, his eyes wild. “I’ve lived in hell. I’ve fought my whole life for a chance at something more. You think I’m afraid of the blood I’ll spill?”

The Guardian’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something resembling sorrow in them. “You will regret this. And you won’t be the only one who suffers. The gods have always demanded sacrifice, Adrian. Even you cannot escape that.”

A surge of power cracked through the air, and the room shook once again. The walls groaned as if they were about to collapse. The artifact in Adrian’s hand pulsed with a dark energy that seemed to hum in tune with the destruction around him.

Adrian looked down at the artifact, now glowing with an otherworldly light. He felt the overwhelming weight of its promise—the power it offered, and the cost it demanded.

He could feel his power growing, his body swelling with strength and aggression. His senses sharpened, the world around him coming into focus with unbearable clarity. But with it, the hunger began to rise, an unquenchable thirst for more—more power, more blood, more chaos.

“Adrian…” The Guardian’s voice was distant now, fading as though he were already withdrawing. “You’ve already taken the first step. But the war you awaken will not be kind. It will break you. It will break everything.”

And with that, the shadows in the room closed in around him, the Guardian’s presence fading, leaving Adrian alone with the artifact and the unbearable weight of the war that was now his to command.

Adrian could feel the shifting tides of fate. The price was steep, but there was no turning back. His world had changed, and so had he.

The gods of war had returned. And so had their price.