God of War

TWENTY-SIX

“YOU CHOSE WELL, my daughter,” Zeus said, as together they watched the scrying pool display the slow descent of the Architect’s throne pillar.

“Ares chose, I refined,” Athena said, unwilling to take her eyes from the image of Kratos until the Spartan and Pandora’s Box reached the entrance level of the temple. “My brother did not understand what he had in Kratos.”

“And so he blunted his best weapon.”

“A weapon that is now deadlier than Ares could ever have forged,” Athena said. They watched the progress of her mortal as he looked around the temple atop the mountain behind Athens. “A question, my lord. Is this the result of your planning?”

He turned from her to point.

“Father…” she began again, but the King of Olympus simply nodded toward the scrying pool, where the throne pillar still descended on its steady pace through the innumerable floors of the temple.

“Your Spartan has nearly reached the temple’s antechamber,” he said. “Is there anything you want to tell him before he goes outside?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Once he brings the box out of the temple, events might begin to unfold swiftly.”

Athena saw that the descending pillar had now reached the antechamber itself, extending downward through the ceiling until it broke through the floor below and continued to sink. The earthquakes this triggered began to shake the whole temple, as well as the mountains above and below it. Chunks of masonry burst outward from the mechanical stresses, and boulders began to rain down upon Cronos’s head.

She willed herself from Olympus to the antechamber of the Temple of Pandora, where she stood, waiting invisibly, while the throne pillar ground its way down to reveal Kratos and Pandora’s Box.

The Spartan appeared unusually pensive as he put his shoulder to the box and began to shove it toward the immense outer doors of the temple. At his touch, a great spray of crackling energy erupted from the giant gemstones.

Athena gathered the sizzling lightning into a semblance of her face. “Kratos, your quest is at an end. You are the first mortal to ever reach Pandora’s Box. There is still time to save Athens. You must bring the box back to my city and use it to kill Ares.”

Kratos lifted his eyes to meet hers, and she noted how meeting the challenges required to free Pandora’s Box had changed him. Bloodlust had been tempered with thoughtfulness. Mercy was beyond his pale, but he had been forged into a more potent weapon, one that would surprise Ares. “Return to Athens, Kratos,” she said. “Return and save my city.”

As she willed herself back to Olympus, Athena heard Kratos’s grunt as he began pushing the ponderous box.

She rematerialized before the throne of Zeus.

Zeus, to her surprise, was still there, still watching the scrying pool. “He’s opening the doors. Watch,” he said, “here it comes.”

“Father, I must transport Kratos and Pandora’s Box back to-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But, Father, even to lower the box from Cronos’s back-”

“I said,” Zeus snapped, “don’t worry about it.”

“With every passing second, more of my city burns!”

Zeus gestured down at the images in the reflecting pool. “Watch.”

As Kratos pushed Pandora’s Box out from the temple into the morning sun of the Desert of Lost Souls for the first time in a thousand years…

Zeus gestured, and the scene in the pool changed.

Athens lay in flames. Ares strode through the streets, stamping fleeing Athenians, laughing as his sword slashed whole neighborhoods to rubble and hammer blows squashed houses flat. His evil laughter echoed from the mountains to the harbor.

As the God of War lifted a fist to smash another building, he paused, fist upraised, and turned to the east as though an invisible hand had tapped him on the shoulder.

“So, little Spartan, you’ve recovered Zeus’s precious box.” The flames of Ares’s hair blazed like the sun. His eyes burned with a fury not to be contained, and his entire body shook as anger fed his muscles. “You will not live to see it opened!”

Ares reached down to snap off one of the great marble columns of the Parthenon. The god hefted it as though the column were no more than a child’s toy spear but one with a deadly, jagged point. He ran four ground-shaking steps and hurled his prodigious javelin, which streaked upward into the sky so fast it vanished with a thunderclap.

Ares turned back to his task of destruction, a sneer on his face. He did not even bother to watch his weapon strike.

“Good-bye, Spartan. You will rot in the depths of Hades for all eternity.”

His laughter pealed over the ruins of Athens like the doom horn of Hades himself.

“Father, stop him-”

“Athena,” Zeus interrupted sharply, “your plans are at an end. There is only one more thing for you to do until this is all over.”

Athena lowered her head, worrying about Kratos’s fate and that of her city. “And what is that, Father?”

“Watch.”