Charles
Dedicated to fallen warriors and heroes, War Memorial square stands as a somber reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of battle. The square features monuments and plaques commemorating gods, demigods and humans who have distinguished themselves on the field of war. It serves as a place of reflection and remembrance for those touched by the harsh realities of conflict.
Alex
*"That'll be $21.30,"* The cashier said as the former Prince approached the counter.

Corner stores were one of the few conventionalities that Hektor had grown fond of during his adjustment to the new age. It was open 24/7, had everything you could need food-wise, and was close enough to his place to where he never had to venture far. In this case, he had come for his new favorite snack - Doritos Cool Ranch and an energy drink. The door chimed on his way out with the plastic bag hanging off his two fingers while he walked down the streets of Olympian. It was near midnight yet the city was still so awake, the twinkling lights from the countless skyscrapers acting as smaller stars while the sky above only had a few visible, completely overshadowed by the moon. 

The sounds of cars passing by, people chattering, and music coming from the shops that were still open at this hour made it so there was no quiet. It always felt like there was nothing that could stall Olympian from continuing to stay this way, even after the disasters the war was bringing to the innocents around. Then, everything changed with an inhuman, ear-splitting shriek that filled the air, followed by a rush of black mass taking over the sky. The bright lights of the buildings were swallowed by darkness, making the sounds of screeching cars followed by a booming crash, people screaming, and the guttural sounds of something in the distance coming closer washed those unaware with fear. For the hero, it pulled him into flight-or-fight mode, though with him, it always ended up in a fight. 
_ _

The first grotesque creature emerged into his line of sight, running in a way that was uneven, fast, and unpredictable manner. Hektor's body moved before his brain could formulate a plan, his hand reaching for the man that it was coming after before pulling him behind him with a strength that almost threw him back. "Run!" He shouted as his hand balled into a fist and pulled it to his side before punching into the jaw of the beast with an uppercut, a sickening crack being heard as it was thrown back to skid across the sidewalk before its body hit the lightpost. What was this? He had never seen anything like this, let alone knew any stories that could give him an idea of what these things were. 

The number of them grew as the night went on, Hektor was forced to pass by the bodies of those who had been fatally attacked by these beasts while trying to help those who were still alive and seeking shelter. It must have been the Fates that granted him the blessing of being in the Ares' sector at the time of the outbreak. He had come across a broken-into blacksmith's shop and found a sturdy enough blade to "Borrow" Before continuing on his task to help the citizens, but also for his own survival. The fight had eventually led him into the War Memorial Square, allowing an open enough space to draw the creatures into but allowing him to use his championed abilities without the worry of any mortals getting in the way. 

He swung his blade, cutting through what he could only assume was their version of flesh and bone. Each one around him dropped one by one, but it seemed endless with how they continued to just come. If it weren't for the fact he was both a demigod and had the aid of Zelus behind him, there was no doubt that he would have fallen victim to this apocalyptic-like situation like many others he saw on the street. 
_ _

Whoever had done this, was it a part of the war? An attack from one side? But why to this degree? Even while on the offense, these thoughts bounced in his mind. By the time he had taken out the last one, he spun the blade in his hand as he carefully scoured the area. His appearance had become haggard; his brown curls were matted against his forehead, his shirt had been torn at the side with a cut from one of the creatures, and sweat and grime covering him in patches. His chest moved with each labored breath, but he stayed quiet while his blue irises flickered around the area. It was in the distance that he spotted another man fighting off the beasts himself, valiantly so and with a fervor that showed Hektor that the man was a fighter - no - *A warrior*. Those with a trained eye, or even without, could see how impressive it was. He was no normal human, that much was clear.

The Trojan was ready to trek forward and assist him until he spotted one of the more humanoid-looking beings rushing him at a terrifying speed. He was able to block it using his blade and bringing his arm behind it to keep steady, his feet skidding on the ground from the force alone. Its teeth snapped at him whilst his own gritted. His foot came to quickly swipe under the creature's feet, bringing it to the ground before his blade came down point-forward into its face, pushing it down with a grunt, its body that had been struggling before coming to a still with its demise. He dropped down to one knee as he panted before he felt an immense force come from the direction of the warrior he had spotted a few moments prior.
Monica
Exahustion sank into Alexios's bones as the battle raged on. Hours passed as he fought the horde through the city, saving those that he could and avenging those who fell. Allies came and went, getting lost in the darkness when they were separated by packs of the undead. The only man that was able to stand his ground as good as Alexios was the one who had ridden in on his horse - something that felt like it had been hours before. He must have been a demigod because he seemed just as sturdy and powerful, able to withstand the attack better than everyone else. 

The problem was that they didn't seem to be getting very far with the two of them and whatever allies they picked up along the way. They needed something bigger - something more powerful to take out larger portions of the undead mob, and Alexios knew exactly how to achieve it; he just needed to get them away from the city. 

Every moment spent fighting the zombies was spent backing up toward the outskirts of the city, aiming for the War Memorial where he was hoping no innocent bystanders were trying to take refuge. 

By the time he reached the stepping stones of the first monument, he was looking worse for wear. Clothes ripped and torn where the undead managed to claw his skin, movements becoming tired and sluggish. Even with superhuman strength and stamina, the non-stop fighting was taking its toll. Too much longer and Alexios wouldn't be able to use his power like he wanted.

The first step of his plan had worked; he managed to act the part of bait and get the majority of the herd to follow him. There were still a few human fighters in the area, but he had some distance on them, so they would be safe from his attack so long as they stayed put. He circled around the statue he fought beside, occasionally clanging his sword against the sculpture to create loud noises and attract more of the undead. He wanted to pull as many in as possible before going for such a large attack. 

Eventually, the horde was packed tight around him, all reaching for him, clawing, scratching, biting. That's when he finally made his move. 

He clenched his fists around the sword handle, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The zombies closed in around him and he felt their gangly fingers grip and tug. Gritting his teeth, Alexios sent a burst of invisible energy out in all directions. The force sent the zombies stumbling back, and just as they regained their footing and began ambling toward him again, the signs of his attack began to show. Their bodies, already rotten, were beginning to decay at an alarming rate. Pieces crumbled off of their bodies, whatever skin that was left became more sunken in. Eventually, many of them dropped without being able to support their own weight anymore.

The decay spread throughout the entire horde and they fell one by one until the last one was nothing but dust crumbling. Only one of the zombies got a last good strike in, his clawed fingers digging into Alexio's shoulder before rotting too much to do any further damage. Alexios shouted in pain before yanking back and stumbling into the statue of Perseus he had been fighting around. His breaths came out in deep gulps, his body feeling extremely heavy as it took on mortality with a struggle. It wouldn't last long, as once the blight wore off, so would his mortality, but that didn't make it any less of a problem. He was vulnerable.

He let himself sink into it, remaining there as he caught his breath and held his hand across the fresh wound.
Alex
Goosebumps formed and ran up his arms as if his body was warning him that something was coming but it didn't know what. It wasn't until he felt the invisible force wash over with a chill that made a shudder run down his spine from the darkness of the blight alone that his attention came to the fighter, watching the group of zombie-like creatures that had surrounded him start to slowly decay and fall apart. One by one from the epicenter out, they slowly fell, the guttural sounds lessening as they were destroyed. The Trojan's eyes widened, his hands having unconsciously gripped the hilt of his blade at the sight until his knuckles were white. 

It was both impressive and terrifying seeing this invisible force at work, but it had given him the answer to the question he had earlier. *A demigod*, just like Hektor. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, enough to make him bend over and heave, no doubt from the effect of his ability. One hand kept himself steady on the ground while he bit back the vomit that was rising, forcing himself to swallow before slowly rising to his feet. The darkness above was still prevalent and there was no doubt that there were more of these beasts that would find their way to the square, continuing to create mayhem. 
_ _

He could see the signs of stress in the stranger's form and his feet took him to where he was, the sound of crunching under his boot being heard as he stepped over the bones and decaying forms of the undead. As he got closer, he noticed he was just as worn out, if not even more than he was from the fight. His eyes spotted the injury on his shoulder that was bleeding. As he came closer, he raised his left hand which was free in a manner that said that he wasn't a danger. "You fought well, if not for you, they would have found their way to harming more that haven't taken shelter." His tone showed his respect for his ability. It was clear most of the fight was out of the man, and to be frank, Hektor was reaching a point where even he needed to rest. It was hard to imagine that he had spent hours upon hours on the battlefield yet all that endurance was something that he didn't find himself having in his second life. 

The man's gaze moved away from him briefly to look around to see if there was anywhere they could hide out for just a few minutes. Right now, they were out in the moment in the middle of the square. All it took was one zombie spotting them for another horde to come. "We need to leave, we can't stay out here in the open. More will find their way their way here and with that shoulder," He glanced at the injury, his lips pressing into a thin line. It was nothing fatal, but there was no way he would continue to fight properly if it continued to bleed in the way it was doing now. If he allowed him to come closer, he'd bend his knees some so he could get him off from leaning against the statue. He continued, "Let me help you, you're in no position to be left on your own."
_ _

He spotted near the back entrance the columned building that was hidden well enough to give them coverage from view before looking back at Alexios. There were still distant screams in the distance, enough to make him internally grimace. There was still so much fighting left and who knew how long this would last. It could be days, depending on if the gods were to intervene. "What is your name?"
Monica
For the moment, he was in the clear. Alexios's breaths were heavy as he looked around at the damage he caused. Piles of undead bodies lie crumbled in pieces, but as far as he could see, no one *Alive* Had been injured. In fact, hardly anyone alive was in the area except for one other man who was hunched over and heaving. Alexios winced at the sound, realizing he must have been caught in the crossfire of his blight, though had he been a normal human, he would have been on his hands and knees puking his guts out due to the level of power Alexios had fired off. 

Trying to stand on his own, Alexios quickly realized how much he had over-extended himself when black dots danced around his vision. He slid right back down before unconsciousness could take him, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision. He must have taken longer to compose himself than he thought becuase he blinked and suddenly the stranger was in front of him. 

Alexios flinched, hand reaching for his sword which he had discarded at his side. He gripped the handle, but realized soon after that the stranger wasn't one of the undead and he was being complimentary. His grip loosened, though he was sure he wouldn't have been able to lift his sword in his current state, anyway. 

"You . . . You weren't so bad yourself," Alexios said, deeply breathing the words in and out.

He didn't recognize the man as any god. While Alexios had not met all of them, he had spent time studying their faces and learning who was who - especially now that he was in a war against them. It was a relief to find out he was fighting alongside someone more human. 

As the stranger looked around the area, Alexios did the same - searching for dangers lurking behind crypts or sneaking up from the cobblestone road leading into the memorial. He couldn't see much past the immediate area with the darkness the way it was, but it was reassuring that he didn't hear the haunting sounds of the undead scraping their feet along the ground or hissing out unneeded breaths. 

Alexios didn't have the energy to protest the help he was offered. He let it happen, the stranger helping him to his feet and holding onto him as they moved. He found himself leaning heavier into the man than he meant to, though he fought the urge to go completely limp. He forced strength into his limbs, walking alongside the stranger with quick, but careful steps. His body screamed at him, but he met the pain with minor grunts and no complaints. 

"Thank you," He said as they made their way to a small building not too far from their position. "Conner. And yours?"
Alex
Seeing him guarded was expected but once he saw the man recognize that he wasn't another monster and relax some, he allowed his guard to be let down some too. The last thing he needed was a mortal taking him out after spending all day fighting these things. Then again, he looked so worn down that fighting seemed near impossible but what did he know? The possibilities of what a demigod could do were endless and unpredictable, just as the move he witnessed. He could still feel his stomach turning from the effect. The returned compliment gained a half-smile from the hero, "It is not as if we had any choice other than good, or else we would end up food for their stomachs." His voice was gruff, weary from the exhaustion despite the adrenaline rush that was still taking its course. 

A soft grunt left Hektor's lips as he helped him up to his feet, letting out a muttered, "Attaboy," Before allowing him to put his weight on him. He took care of the injured shoulder but knew they had to move swiftly to make sure they weren't sighted by any zombie that may have been missed or hidden away from their sight. The smell of the creatures was awful, the rotting factor of Connor's ability making the Trojan's nose wrinkle in protest as they moved over the bodies and towards the small building where they could find safety. 
_ _

Blue eyes looked to the demigod at his question, "Hektor." He returned. "No need to thank me. Any good person would have done the same. Trying times are when we've gotta stick together the most, right?" He looked ahead, a pant pushing through his lips as they went up the steps that led to the building before his hand moved to lean his blade against the wall to open the door, but paused for a moment, looking at Connor. "If anything comes out, swing at it with whatever you've got left in you." There was no guarantee it was empty and that was a risk he was willing to take. Gripping the knob, he twisted it and creaked open the door to hear anything before swinging it open, allowing the door to hit the wall. 

A relieved sigh left through his nose as it was revealed to be empty. Good, this would be a safe enough spot until they were rested enough to move again, or at least he saw Connor well enough to move. He wasn't going to abandon the guy, not when he was in this state. Easing him inside, they moved through the dark before his leg hit a chair, almost making him stumble with a hushed, "Fuck." Before he managed to steady himself. "Here, sit down." He told him, aiding him into the chair. He would move to grab his blade from the outside and come to shut the door, leaving them within the safety of the small confined space. 
_ _

He patted the wall, looking for a switch before feeling his fingers brush by one and flicking it upwards. The light above flickered on and off before it gave a dim light that was enough to illuminate the room. He set the blade down on the small table that was near the chair he sat Connor on. "Have you been fighting out there this whole time?" He asked as he took in his appearance fully. He looked like shit, which was to be expected considering. He figured he probably looked in a similar state himself. But that shoulder of his is what caught his attention. 

He started to open up the metal lockers that were in the room, no doubt this was more of a security checkpoint that was abandoned due to the chaos. There were personal items that he rummaged through until he could find anything. He would set what he found down on the table: Two water bottles, scotch tape, a rag that smelled clean enough to be used, a small bottle of JD, and a shirt that was folded up in one of the backpacks. He dragged the other chair so he was seated facing the injured shoulder. "Take off your shirt." He realized that sounded more demanding than he meant it to be before adding on, "Let me take care of that shoulder while you tell me how you learned to fight like that." From his talks with Nemesis and Zelus, he knew that the only way this man would have been able to gain something as inhumane as that is if he were championed - just as he was.
Monica
Alexios wasn't comfortable with receiving help - something that had been ingrained in him because of his father. Matthew Donnelly was an independent man who lost his parents at a young age and had to take care of himself and his younger siblings just as he reached the age of adulthood. He was a perfect example of what Alexios strived to be - responsible, respectable, and trustworthy. People looked to him for answers, for help, for leadership, but not the other way around. But just because one wasn't used to being helped didn't mean he never received it. 

As Hektor helped him up and took on most of his weight, Alexios felt that twinge of helplessness that he couldn't stand. He had to bite his tongue and force his own body into submission to allow himself to be half-carried to safety. 

"Unfortunately, it seems like the only time people stick together," He said, though his comment was lost in the darkness as they made it to the entrance of the building. He nodded to Hektor at the direction he was given, eyes locking onto the door as he readied himself for anything that might have come out when it opened. He took on a bit more of his own weight again, bracing himself for an attack, but when the door swung open and nothing came out, he relaxed again. 

They rummaged around in the dark for a moment, announcing their presence with a couple of bumps and possibly new bruises, before Hektor found them a good spot to rest. Alexios sank down into a seat and leaned his back against the wall with a sigh, closing his eyes to rest for a moment as Hektor closed the door. He only opened them again when the lights came on, illuminating the inside of the building to reveal exactly where they were.

"Hard to tell how long," He said as he ran his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. "Ever since they showed up at Ares Heights . . . So at least a few hours." He didn't realize that a "Few" Hours was closer to ten. "You?" 

He watched Hektor search through several lockers in the security room, and suddenly realized why he and his new acquaintance might have been getting along so well. Everything Hektor did was something that Alexios would have done were their roles reversed. Everything down to rummaging through unknown areas to find useful tools to help. 

The next order from Hektor continued to put Alexios on edge, but only because he wasn't used to getting ordered around. Sighing, he slowly peeled off his already-torn shirt, mindful of the shoulder injury that was revealed to be as gross as it was painful. Teeth marks were indented into his flesh, blood still gushing from the fresh wound. He hissed when he accidentally grazed it, but bit back any other sounds as he tossed his shirt aside. 

"Mn . . . Personal trainer, mostly," He said - a half-truth, since he didn't care to lie unless he really had to. "Felt kind of necessary with the war going on." His body tensed up when Hektor pressed on a particularly sensitive spot on the wound, but he didn't complain too much. "I'm also a cop but they don't really train you to fight with swords there." Though the gun training came in handy with the zombies more so than the sword until he ran out of bullets. "What about you?" He paused, remembering how close Hektor had been when Alexios went nuclear with his power. "How are you feeling? Didn't mean for you to get caught in the crossfire during that final attack."
Alex
The Trojan understood the lack of comfort when it comes to accepting assistance. While Conner's was due to his experiences with his father, Hektor was shaped by both the duty as the crowned Prince and war general in his time in the war. However, he learned to rely on his men around him. While the two men were complete strangers to one another, Hektor couldn't ignore him. There was a sense of camaraderie that came with fighting off the common enemy and in this case, it happened to be the creatures that came from the dark. 

In the safety of the four walls, they were able to allow their guards to come down enough but not enough to get rid of the adrenaline that ran through his veins. Hektor was the one to ask the question, but when it was returned back to him, he honestly did not know how long he had been out there. He was going through the motions, his body on autopilot as he fought and helped. His muscles were screaming at him to rest, so he knew it had been more than just a couple of hours. "Same boat." He responded. "I came from Demeter's district. Time is hard to tell when there's no light." That was a few districts over but his movements led him to Ares Heights. 

As he sat down, he waited for Alexios to take off his shirt and he was able to see the full extent of his wound. He didn't know what those things were but surely it wouldn't be akin to those zombie movies where there was some infection outbreak, right? He had watched too many episodes of The Walking Dead, it was filling his mind with ridiculous scenarios that he quickly shrugged off as unreasonable. He pulled the chair closer before cracking open one of the bottles of water to pour at the wound, using the rag to dab at it as gently as he could. He knew well enough from his time of war that the best remedy to fixing a serious wound was conversation, a distraction from the pain that was inevitable from tending to a wound. 
_ _

Personal trainer made him glance at him, not out of doubt but more questioning of how a personal trainer became that skilled. It was when he mentioned being a cop that it made more sense. "Bullets run out, a sword can last for longer. It's a shame that the skill has been lost with time." He felt him tense under the touch as he cleaned off the wound, the blood continuing to seep but he could see the wound in its entirety now. It was bad, but it could heal with the proper aid. What he was doing was just a temporary fix and even then, who knew when he could get the proper help? 

He opened up the small JD bottle, "This'll sting." He warned before pouring it onto the wound. There was no antiseptic but this was the next best thing while he kept the towel pressed below the wound to catch some of the excess. When he asked the question of how he felt, the truth was that he felt like absolute shit. The blight he was caught in had still made him reel with nausea, his Adam's apple bobbing now and then as he forced whatever that wanted to come up down and his usually fair complexion pale. It could have been from injuries he sustained and the exhaustion, but it was most definitely also an effect of his powers. 

"I was... In the military." He didn't know how to tell a stranger that he was much older than he looked and from a completely different period. "Front lines of war. Whatever I picked up there seems to help me a little now." He shot him a glance at his concern or maybe it was just curiosity, "I feel a lot better than you probably do right now." He answered with the slightest upturn of his lip that disappeared as he went back to concentrating on the aid. "I'll be fine. I'm more used to this than you think." 
_ _

In a sick, twisted way his body felt more at home in this setting than he did in the mundanity of day-to-day life. His mind was numbed when it came to fighting, he didn't have to think about Achilles or what he lost the day he died. It was just methodical movements of killing, something his body remembered all too well. His brows furrowed, "You're a demigod, aren't you? Do you know why this is happening?" It was direct and an assumption, but a safe one.
Monica
Blue eyes darted from the window to Hektor and then back to the window, searching for a threat that was no longer there. Heel tapping quickly against the floor, Conner couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the calmness of the moment. His last attack was effective against the zombies, but it was only for the War Memorial area. He was sure there were plenty more to fight; he just needed to go search for them. Sitting still, even for such a short time, was making him stir-crazy when he knew there were people out there who needed help. He didn't resist, though, knowing that he was in no condition to jump right back into battle just yet. 

"Well. It hasn't been lost completely," Conner said, studying Hektor as he worked. Something about him was familiar, but he was struggling to figure out what it was. He spent so much time memorizing the likenesses of all of the gods, but he wasn't perfect, and not all of them looked like they used to. If Hektor was one of them, he wasn't one that Conner recognized easily. "Looks like you know how to use it well enough." 

He braced himself the moment Hektor warned him about the sting. He eyed the small bottle before deciding he needed something to bite onto, so he grabbed the remains of his shirt and bit down on the cloth. Just in time, too, because the alcohol was poured over the wound. He bit down and hissed, one hand shooting out to press against the wall as he resisted the urge to cry out. A few grunts escaped, but he was successfully distracted by the continuing conversation.

Being in the military explained a lot, but something about Hektor's words told him it wasn't the full story. They both had their secrets, and they didn't know each other well enough to need to divulge everything.

"Yeah, sorry about that," He said. Hektor was right to think he felt better than Conner did, as nausea was all he had to worry about. Conner was stuck with a lack of his usual godly healing and durability for a short period of time. He didn't comment on that part, though, just letting Hektor's comment linger in the air. 

He didn't confirm nor deny that he was a demigod - kind of hard when it was very obvious - but he didn't leave Hektor hanging completely. "It looks like Hades just joined the war," He said. "Not sure why, but something must have pissed him off enough to raise the dead."
Alex
The smallest huff of laughter pushed from his lips, though whether it was from amusement or simply from the irony of having to still use an old skill like swordsmanship was unknown. "You can call it a hobby. I never thought the first one I'd get would be having to break into a blacksmith's shop. I'm surprised it lasted this long honestly." The blade's edge was already starting to grow dull from its hours of use but then again, no one made swords to be used anymore and it was more likely a decorative piece. 

Grabbing the shirt, he tore it apart with ease, though carefully so it made a long enough cloth to wrap his shoulder with. "Don't apologize. You did what was the best course of action, a bystander being affected is the least of anyone's worries in that situation." He was lucky he got away with feeling sick, it could have been much worse considering how the beings crumbled and decayed within the proximity of his blight. Just thinking about how he could have ended up within range practically made a chill run down his spine. It was an awful way to die and awful demises is something he happened to be familiar with. 

Bringing one arm to gently hold his elbow, he slowly lifted up his arm. He knew it was going to be painful but he needed it at an angle so he could properly wrap his shoulder. "Hold it there, even if it hurts like a bitch." He gruffed as he brought the cloth to carefully wrap his shoulder, making it tight like a tourniquet but still allowing him some motion if another emergency were to occur. And considering how no one knew how long this darkness was going to last, it wasn't an if but *When*. 
_ _

His brows furrowed together at the mention of Hades. He knew the King of the Underworld all too well, he had spent countless of centuries within his domain in Elysium. "I thought he wasn't involved in this mess." He muttered. A tired sigh left him as he tied off the wound, the blood already staining the cloth red. Despite Hektor being sided with Poseidon, his dislike for war remained. He hated the needless bloodshed of innocents, those losing their loved ones in horrible ways, and the uncertainty of surviving to the next. That's exactly what war brought - the constant need to survive and that was no way to live. 

"I'm sure the Gods are doing their best to stop this. I doubt this is a part of anyone's plan." He found himself leaning back in his chair, using the excess of the shirt to wipe away the blood that stained his hands from cleaning his wound. "You know about the war. You must be involved." The mortals were unaware, simply assuming that the world was going to shit. Catastrophic natural disasters seemed unexplainable to all but those who were involved in some way. "Or, you are trying to keep yourself out of it, which would be the smartest thing anyone could do in this situation."
Monica
Physical pain was temporary, but emotional pain could last forever. That was one of the many lessons Conner learned when he became championed by Persephone. Joining the war and fighting back against the gods didn't heal what had been done to him or to Jessie or to the countless thousands of innocent people whose lives were destroyed in one way or another. The losses he suffered in his life were still felt years later, and he wondered if it was something he could ever recover from. Physical pain, however, was different. Injuries he sustained healed quickly. The pain he took on from healing others' wounds didn't last forever. He could handle the bite to his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he could handle the weight of the world. 

"Still. Had I known you were that close, I would have tried to lead them further away. We don't need anymore casualties today." He clenched his fists as his arm was lifted up, dutifully holding it in place as Hektor wrapped it tightly. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together in pain, but he didn't cry out. It was temporary. His quick healing would return within a few days and the pain would be a distant memory. 

"He wasn't," Conner added, staring out the window to the security room. Was that movement in the distance? "But that doesn't mean he'll stay out of it forever." He slowly lowered his arm, taking a deep breath as the pain settled into a dull throbbing. "The gods can't always help themselves, can they?" 

Once he was wrapped up, he stood from his seat to test the rest of his movement. His body was stiff, but he was rested just enough to get moving again. Getting back to the Champions' headquarters was going to be a challenge on foot, but he was sure he could make it with what little energy he had left in him.

"You put a lot of faith in the gods," Conner said as he slipped what was left of his shirt on over his bare chest. "But look around. What gods do you see out here helping *Us?*" It was clear he didn't mean to say him and Hektor specifically, but humanity as a whole. The undead had risen to attack the living, and there wasn't a peep from Olympus or the Sea. "I'm involved because I have no other choice. If you haven't picked a side yet, you should. I hope you choose the right one." 

The movement he saw earlier finally revealed itself to be another wave of the undead. Some wandered aimlessly, others stumbled straight to the building - attracted by the light. Conner picked up his sword again and moved toward the door. 

"We need to get out of here before they surround it and trap us in. You ready?"
Alex
"It's not worth sweating over a possible situation when it wasn't the outcome. I'm still here, aren't I?" Despite the gruffness in his tone, he meant it to have Alexios not worry over it. "No harm," He tightened the makeshift bandage before looking at his work, satisfied enough, "No foul." He finished. 

The God's war was a complicated one. He only knew what he was told and Nemesis was a part of the Underworld herself. How did she feel about this? "The Gods do what they want, just as they always have." He knew the God's intervention in war all too well, considering that they were one of the biggest catalysts within the Trojan War. Their interference, Paris' god-awful decision, and the ultimate end to his nation and his life, he felt a bitter taste on his tongue at the thought of his former life. 

He got himself up from the chair, though found himself pausing at Alexios' words. He could see how he believed so. In his time, they served the Gods and prayed to them for success, wealth, health, for the safety of their family and their nations. It came naturally to him to put his faith in them, but nowadays, he knew better. 
_ _

"I put faith in their nature. Hades' involvement doesn't serve any of the Gods that are not with him. They're self-serving and this," He looked to the window, the cloak of darkness still eminent, "...This doesn't serve them." The concept of *Us* Was an interesting one. He knew what he meant: What are the Gods doing to protect us mortals? Hektor had allowed his own goals to overshadow some of his mortals. He justified the cost of life so far to be the casualty of war. He knew how ugly it was first-hand, seeing the innocents slaughtered despite doing his best to avoid it. Even the most righteous man couldn't avoid such a thing. "There's always a choice, Conner. You've made yours, and so have I." 

What was the right choice? Was anything right when it came to a God's war? Or did it all come down to choosing the lesser evil? 

He turned his back to him to grab his blade. They couldn't stay in here forever and the momentary rest had done more for him than he would have expected. He looked to Conner, nodding as he saw his hand on the door. "Let's go." 
_ _

Little did they know that the light they had on in the small security room had attracted the creatures of the night, wanting to extinguish any light that they caught in their path. Beyond the door was something they both hadn't expected. After all, who would have thought that a swarm of them would have gathered as quickly as they did? As soon as the door opened, the horrors would have been unleashed on the two unsuspecting heroes.