"Ah speaking of... Ares, late per usual. Come brother, join us,” said Apollo. 

Ares approached the assembly of his siblings, unable to mask the dread in his eyes.

“Ares? What is it?" Apollo stood, waving away his nymph companion.

"Ares what has you shaken? Speak!" Zeus commanded.

The God of War looked at each of his family members with hollow gazes. His fear unleashed, it spread throughout the garden of which they called their meeting. Hermes approached, wisely withholding his speed to closer inspect Ares. Ares was known to have no patience for inquiry. No patience for those who tried to steal what he held most dear. His secrets. Yet today, he knew he would need to tell his most dangerous secret yet. He walked over to a marble table where two phoenixes were nested on the ground below. He poured himself a goblet of rosewine and recalled his awakening. A day that he would never forget, a day that marked his death.  He took a sip, then began.

...................................................................................

“For eons, the Greek pantheon led all aspects of man's life through guidance and influence. After the first two thousand years of mankind's existence, father Zeus granted Prometheus a retrial. The convicted Titan was able to make his case for how fire had advanced mankind, and how they had remained in a balanced coexistence with the rest of earth’s creatures.  The humans had become smarter and learned new advanced methods to better their lives. This prosperity and natural balance flourished for millennia.  After the retrial of Prometheus, Zeus kindly reduced his sentence and mankind remained in this prosperous state that Prometheus spoke of. These homo sapiens, a necessary species to the world of life that we gods had created.”

“So it’s the humans you fear brother?  Are you ill?  You’ve been taking Gorgon's blood again haven’t you?” asked Athena.

“Quiet sister.  I am not finished.”

“With haste Ares!” yelled Hera.

“Yes mother.  As you all know, after a time of this peaceful existence for the entire world, and confident that stability would remain, we decided to take a nap at the whim of one of father’s godly companions from that other realm he never let us travel to. He called it... the 'Olympian sleep'... and none of us had a choice.”

......................................................................

“Awakening thousands of years later, the world as we knew it was not the same. With each of you scattered throughout Olympus, it was I that first awoke. Being the God of War, I first felt a tug at my soul and instantly felt an escalation pulse on earth. Upon my approach, I saw the bright flashes over the land that man called... Hiroshima. The colorful flames sent death and destruction in waves that I had never seen before. I drew so much power from it; and combined with the Olympian Sleep, my strength had never seen such heights. I reveled in it.  I became bloodthirsty.  Yet, I was infuriated by it. I could not comprehend what magic it was, so I decided to investigate the carnage wrought before me. I went out to kill the forces responsible. There was no war without me! Even the thought of it would be punishable by death unless I allowed it. Tracing the attack from a distant land the natives called America, I followed the war trail up the chain of command. A web of sorts, one that I was not familiar with on the surface... but at its root... at its core... it was only one thing to me. One thing I knew well. That was war.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Are you getting to the point Ares?,” the cyclops games are starting soon.

“This concerns us all.  So hold your tongue or I will rip it out and eat it Hermes.”

“It took me hours to locate the leader they called Harry Truman.  Bursting into what the humans called the oval office, I left a trail of bodies behind me.  Hades, you should be expecting an influx of souls soon.”

Hades nodded.

“Being the first son of Olympus, I knew politics very well.  The humans are not so different from us I learned.  It made their agencies all the more easy to infiltrate.”

The audience grew restless.

“I then confronted this king of America, whom they called the United States President. A shrill, man with glasses, staring at a painting on his wall.  He turned to me, and when I looked into his eyes I sensed something wasn’t right.  He, a mere mortal, not in shock, or awe, or anything.  His eyes showed only… joy.”

‘I see you've awakened. Welcome back,’ he said to me as he took a sip of his whiskey, denying me the respect of offering a drink.

‘You've been expecting me?’ I asked.

‘Of course. For quite some time now,’ he said back to me.

“Confused, I decided I had given this mortal enough of a gift to even acknowledge my existence before killing him.  A death so exquisite he would utter my name for all eternity, remembering who the true master of warfare was.  I sent my shadow axe pulsating with flame hurtling towards the old man. A burst of light filled the room as I removed my helm. When the smoke cleared, the man that stood before him remained, yet he was different.  Younger, more… familiar…”

‘But how?’ I thought. With smoke and steam rising from him, he walked back over to his royal desk… with a limp.”

Apollo rose, his glass of rosewine falling from his hand, crashing on the ground.  The peacocks scattered, and gusts of winds began to stir the trees.

“You lie Ares,” he said.

“I have lied many times in my life.  To mortal and god alike.  Today, no lie falls from these lips.  He smiled at me, this new man arisen from burnt flesh and charred bone.  I never knew the feeling of shock until that day.  He looked me in my eye and said, ‘Expecting this? Tsk, tsk Ares. I've been planning it....’

Ares looked around the assembly once more.

"After he died during the Trojan War, I made a deal with Hades. I bought him in secret and made him my warslave for centuries... many, many centuries... One night, aided by Hephaestus, that traitorous wretch, he escaped my cells. Now he seeks revenge.  On all of us."

"After who died?" Hera asked.

The gods began to gather closer, staring at Ares, fearful of the emotional stench emanating off of him. Scared that it might consume them, but they needed to hear. Zeus moved toward his son.

"Ares, please if this is a game I will send you to Tart-"

The gods of Olympus were now feeling something they haven’t felt since the war against the Titans.

The sun vanished behind thick clouds of rain and lightning as Helios departed in haste, the others felt the fear spreading.

"He's alive father, and he’s more powerful than ever.  He wields the fleece of Jason, he’s acquired the head of the gorgon and he’s recruited allies with the help of that bastard of your one-eyed friend!”

Zeus took his son by the shoulders.  “Ares, what are you saying?  What have you done?”

The gods fell silent. Ares looked at his father in a way that made him feel more mortal than god.

"Who Ares?  Speak!" 

In all his years, in all of his eons in existence, Zeus never thought he would live to see the day his son, the God of War, would shed a tear.

"Ares… tell me.  Who's alive?"

"The son of Peleus, the smiter of Troy, the demi-god who defied Apollo… we know him well… it’s Achilles, and he demands blood.”