“I’m sorry, but… my boyfriend doesn’t want me to see you anymore.” His voice turned to ash in his throat, choking down an all too familiar feeling as his best friend ended their friendship. There weren’t any tears. How could there be? It was only a matter of time before she left him behind too. It happened so many times now. He was too weak, too frail. Men saw him as disgusting. Women saw him as a cute novelty until a bigger stronger man convinced them to leave him behind.
That’s what led him to stare in the mirror, a sink full of hair as he desperately tried to shed the unsightly form he’d had for so long. Not that it helped. Even looking the part, it was made quite obvious much too quickly that he was still the same. Weak and unlovable. That was until the mist appeared.
“You seem like a competent young man,” the man said. “You seem to be down on your luck, but I could help with that,” he offered. “Your magic is capable, but hardly exemplary. But with the right… nudge, you could become a force to be reckoned with.” His smile was unnerving, but the power in his hand seemed too tantalizing to ignore. A chance to be someone, anyone, other than the weak loser of a man he was. “All you’ll need to do is follow my lead.” The man may have been creepy and made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t say no. After all, as his own father told him, you must do whatever you can to take power for others to respect you. Exploit them for your own gain. It was a mentality that he’d despised. Yet, he’d long since lost the will to resist the revulsion. And so, he took the god’s hand.
He’d felt unusual ever since, overtaken by the buzz of power tingling through him. His apprehensions and concerns hadn’t gone away, but the buzz crowded them out. The shouts of anguish and lament were quieted by the thrill. A part of him begged him to stop, but the draw of the facade, which the power helped him forge, pushed them aside, leaving the whimpers at the edge of his mind. He knew they were useless to him now and allowed them to be thrown away, discarded and forgotten. After all, he was respected now. He had power now.
Sure, the grumblings of his men were far from tasteful. The way they spoke was something he’d taken issue with, especially how they spoke of women. However, when he went to speak up and keep his men in order, the god simply placed his hand on his shoulder. “No one likes a kill joy. Let them have their fun.” The man he was before would’ve been disgusted to hear that. The man who’d empathized with all the women he cared about and was close too would say how wrong that was. He wasn’t that man now. The power helped abate the objections in his mind. They were quieted and pruned away. And in their place a steady voice began to grow.
“Women don’t respect men that let others walk over them,” the voice whispered. “You must be bold and strong,” it said. “People follow those who are strong!” it declared. “If you want something, take it!” it yelled. “And if anyone stands in your way, CRUSH THEM!” it roared.
And yet, even as he began to recite the words he once hated, even as he began to believe the voice's wisdom, something tried to push back. An ache in his mind that simply wouldn’t go away. It was particularly pronounced when he’d visit the god’s prize, a woman turned mermaid. He wasn’t quite sure of the events that led to her capture. He’d largely tuned out from such meetings. In fact, his attention span had gotten worse and worse. One of the complaints he actually had of being a leader was the needing to listen to things he had no input on. He simply no longer cared, that worrisome side of him long since being cast aside, both for his subordinates and for the mermaid herself. Perhaps the ceaseless grumbles of his men were to blame for his headache, their obnoxious questions did lead to many sleepless nights. Yet there was a plea at the back of his mind to reconsider, that the problem was something different. It grew more intense as he stared at the mermaid, as if begging him to stop and help her. Surely no one deserved to be in a-
“Some people simply exist to benefit others,” the god’s words echoed in his mind. “Taking what you deserve is the only way people will understand. It is the only way to maintain power.” The power’s grip grew ever tighter. Each day he arrived to monitor her, and he felt that ache. The push and pull had grown nauseating.
“We need to observe her and that power she has.” It’s not right. She’s a person. You know that! “A person doesn’t have a fish tail. It’s in her better interest anyway, it’s not like she can swim through town.” But imprisoning her isn’t right! “She needs our protection!” But she never got a choice. “A choice!? Like all the women you treated kindly and chose to leave you behind!?” But that’s not her fault… “And you’ll never get anywhere as long as you keep putting others before yourself! She should be thankful we want to look after her!” B-but, that’s… “Why would a weak creature like her exist anyway if not to be our prize!” N-no… “She, no, the world, exists to serve us!" P-please... "They exist to serve ME!"
He could only cackle and laugh as the mania consumed him. Power had no need for such feeble emotions. His power had no space for such useless concerns. He had a hunger to be sated, and it would be sated.
But then the mermaid would begin to sing. And for a brief moment, the storm of confidence would pause. In that space, in that momentary gap, those feelings would return, their feeble voiceless pleas reduced to an insentient ache. It made him want to cry. The power didn’t like that. “Do not let her drag you back into weakness!” it yelled. The rage let out a cackle, words he’d never once thought swarming out of his mouth. And then after the mermaid escaped with the help of those magical girls, his next mission came, in what felt like a blink of an eye.
Suddenly, he had to take his men and capture a woman who had the audacity to go after men. “The world is only worsened by uppity women like that,” the god assured him. The power inclined him to agree. “She will simply become a danger in the world we seek to make. But if we show her the error of her ways, perhaps we could get some use out of her.”
The mission was an unmitigated disaster. From the agitation he got from his men to the sound defeat of them and him. And he almost paid for it with his life. Yet somehow that wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t even that his power had failed him again. It was that he couldn’t fault the witch in the first place. Her decisions made all too much sense. They were the same after all. He had taken power to get what he wanted, recognition and respect. She’d taken power to get revenge against her aggressors.
...but they weren’t the same. He’d compromised everything he’d believed in for what he wanted. She compromised the very thing he’d needed for so long, respect and recognition. She was willing to be a contemptible pariah for what she believed in, and he’d thrown his beliefs away for that same thing she abandoned. And more than that, the pain she felt, the passion that drove her, he knew what all of it felt like, once upon a time. He’d always resonated with the misgivings of the women around him, even now, as the one she was blaming, he couldn’t find fault. Along the way, he’d become the very thing he’d once seen as despicable. He had no choice but to agree with her logic, even if he was the one in the wrong, even if there was a nagging that there was some implicit wrongness about the situation. An inkling that perhaps under different circumstances, he’d be fighting alongside her, fighting to support the women he’d seen hurt so many times.
“Why am I trying to stop her?” Was the first question that he couldn’t answer. One became two as he questioned, “why are all of our targets women?” Then “why does he treat her like that?” More and more had risen over the months. “What was the point of all of this? Why did I do this?” Then finally, he was left with a simple inescapable question. “Why am I even here?”
He ran away again. The god's boon failing once again. In the face of a goddess this time. A goddess of justice. One of absolute resolve, staring him down with confidence and certainty. He couldn't help but waver, again, in the face of such an insurmountable opponent. Another in a growing list of defeats, defeats he was promised he'd never suffer again. And yet he did. Time and again. He had become so tired. The voice that had driven him so far had become so hollow. Its barking demands had become nothing but more noise he had to tune out.
“Is your mind on vacation again, Gunther?” the god asked. Gunther sighed.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“That’s dangerous,” the god laughed. “Leave the thinking to us.”
“O-okay…” Gunther answered as the car came to a halt. “Are you sure this is the place?” he asked as he got out of a white and black vehicle. Even now it was unsettling to him to be driving a police car when he was anything but an enforcer of the law.
“Indeed it is,” Zeus confirmed as he exited his side of the car. It was still a little jarring to consider that this man who looked like a playboy billionaire was actually the king of the Greek gods. All depictions of Zeus made him out to be bigger and far older. He had a smaller and younger form now, one which suited the old lech well as it got him in the good graces of the growing collection of infatuated women who now seemed to worship him. It was strange that they seemed so willing though. He recalled a number of myths implying the women he got with were less than willing. Maybe it was a shift in values though. Who could say? “Gunther, I know that I strike your fancy, but we have things to do.”
“I’m not gay,” Gunther grumbled in protest.
“I never said you weren’t into the more fair of us,” Zeus chuckled. “But it’s not hard to see how you eye me.”
“Can we get on with this?” Gunther sighed, desperate for the conversation to end.
“Ah, yes, certainly.”
“Still, this dump is it?” Gunther asked, eyeing the ruined industrial building. Sure, it was conveniently in the middle of nowhere, but it was clearly beaten up by something.
“Ah, right, you can’t see beyond it, can you? Allow me,” Zeus snapped his fingers, a jolt of electricity arcing upon Gunther. His eyes tingled for a moment as the building seemed to transform into a regal looking manor of sorts, but it had an earthy vibe to it. Strange vines grew around it, which was even stranger considering they were still in the desert. “Before you ask, one of our new allies is quite versed in illusions. Now onward.” Zeus directed his aid forward, approaching the main entrance.
“Halt!” a gruff woman’s voice declared. An armor clad woman emerged from the awning and glared at the pair. She leapt down and approached them, her dark braided hair trailing behind her.
“Is there an issue?” Zeus asked with a bemused grin. The woman stopped and stared at him, her icy blue eyes digging into him. She pulled out her sword and pointed it at him.
“Who are you?”
“Come now my dear. I’m here to see your liege. Although, I wouldn’t mind showing a young valkyrie such as yourself a more… satisfying relationship.”
“Ugh,” the woman groaned. “Is this how sister felt watching your advances? It’s rather crass to hit on your own daughter, you know.”
“Daughter?” Zeus repeated. “Ah, so this is your new form, Aphrodite?”
“Gag me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Comparing me to that brat is an insult. At least mistake me for Artemis.”
“That would be quite humorous, wouldn’t it,” Zeus chuckled. “But that naive girl despised me before, and I doubt reincarnating with these uppity toys would do anything but encourage her rebelliousness. That said, who else could you be?”
“Seriously?” The woman grumbled as she crossed her arms.
“Ah, do give me a break, Ares. I hadn’t expected you of all people to choose a woman for your new form.”
The woman blushed. “How did you arrive at...”
“Well for one, you’re far more aggressive than Dionysus or your other brothers ever could be. I can very much feel the bloodlust of war falling off you, although it seems much more tame than before.”
“And what makes you think I’m not Athena?”
“Well, he did fight that broad back in Tempe,” Gunther stated, a strange tension filling his voice as he insulted the goddess. The woman glared at him.
“Don’t malign the mortal,” Zeus stated calmly. “He tells the truth. I had the discourtesy of meeting her earlier.”
“So, sister has sided against us as well?” the woman sighed. “Fine, you win. I’m Ares. Do you want a cookie?”
“Oh my, I hadn’t realized you’d become so motherly in your new form.” Zeus grinned. Ares shivered.
“Fucking stop that!” she protested. “Me being a woman doesn’t mean… Even if I do some baking, that’s not...”
“Ah, you’ve certainly become much cuter and easier to fluster, haven’t you?” he chuckled as the goddess pouted. “I must say being a woman suits you far better than being that crazed boy back then. Although you do still reek of your more brutish attitudes.”
“Just shut up and come with me,” Ares grumbled before falling silent.
“You sure do like making fun of your kids, don’t you Mr. Z?” Gunther observed as they followed the agitated war goddess inside.
“Oh, hardly. I tell the truth. In her previous incarnation she earned quite the negative reputation for being a headstrong warmonger. It seems this new form has tempered her some. Ironic that being a woman would make her more logical.”
“Fuck you too, Dad,” Ares grumbled.
As the pair bickered, Gunther noticed a shadowy figure to the side. Cloaked within was a feminine shape with two long pointed ears. She quietly eyed the group as they proceeded down the hallway, a frown on her face. Gunther raised his hand, about to call out to her when she flinched and ducked behind the pillar beside her, her body obscured by more encroaching shadows.
“What are you looking at?” Zeus asked, Gunther snapping his gaze back to the god.
“There’s a girl over there.”
“A girl?” Ares questioned. “You mean the beast?”
“Beast? No, look over…” He turned to look back. “Huh?” There, in the girl’s place stood a large shadowy beast which growled at them.
“Careful, it’s dangerous,” Ares said, stepping in front of him. “Shoo!” she shouted, the beast growling as it retreated into the shadows.
“That thing… it can turn into a girl?”
“Huh?” Ares frowned. “Of course it can’t. It’s just a monster that the old bastard caught.”
“Are you sure?” Gunther said in a hushed tone. “She looked so scared.”
Ares ruffled his hair, a gentle look on her face. “You know, you get kinda cute when you worry.” Gunther’s breath hitched as Ares looked at him with a kind look in her eyes. “It’s okay. You probably just saw one of the old bastard’s illusions.” She frowned. “He… can be pretty mean-spirited with them.”
“Aww, are you going to make him a pretty little cake and read him a bed time story?” Zeus snickered. Ares glared at him. “Such a womanly side of you.”
“Still can’t just leave people alone,” Ares quietly grumbled to herself just loudly enough for Gunther to overhear.
“What was that?”
“I said, fuck you Dad.”
“That is no way to speak of your forebearer, young warmonger,” a gravely voice scolded the war goddess. The three emerged in a forested room, graced by mysterious dappled light. At its center sat a wizened old man, his eyes brimming with knowledge and foresight. He gripped his spear, emanating an air of power while his loose grip implied his relaxed nature. “A dutiful son should listen to the wisdom of their predecessors.”
“I’m a woman,” Ares grumbled to herself.
“Regardless of the form you adopt now, your core remains the same.” Ares grimaced as she heard those words.
“Come now, no need to frown,” Zeus said with a smirk, barely hiding his laughter at the goddess’s shaming. “Although that form may be far more fitting of your pathetic nature, you still have plenty of time to make up for it.”
“I would ask you not to demean the female form so lightly, my ally,” the old man stated.
“Ah, apologies, Odin, I had forgotten your fondness for their… nimble nature.”
“I would not be so critical of their capabilities. Last I heard, you were shamed by a pack of girls just a matter of months ago,” Odin observed.
“Ah, a mere humorous tryst to test a potential ally’s allegiance, that is all, I assure you. It simply showed that the Babylonian bitch was far less dedicated to the task than she seemed to be,” Zeus explained. “Those girls were nothing more than a simple fascination I distracted myself with.”
“Oh, sure, it’s that and not getting shown up by your beloved golden girl?” Ares commented bitterly.
“Ares, now is not the time for your petty sibling spat,” Odin chided her, Ares crossing her arms and pouting as she relented the issue. “That said, my trusted ally, I would like to take this moment to rectify a misunderstanding you seem to hold.”
“Oh, and what is that?” Zeus asked.
“You are not the only one who recalls those bygone days. There is no reason to play coy with the nature of those girls. I recognize the stench of the prime succubus, just as you undoubtedly did.”
“Heh, I suppose you would, great Alfather. Your wisdom once again leaves me in amazement. Then again, as you said, her scent is… obvious.”
“Ugh… Can you not sound like a creep for five minutes?” Ares grumbled as she crossed her arms.
“Come now, where’d your sense of humor go?”
“You’re confused. That was my patience, and it died with my past self.”
“Still attempting to cling to the delusions of your vessel, boy?” Odin asked. Ares tightened the grip on her arm as she scowled. “No matter what you tell yourself, you’re nothing but a muscle of violence. Don’t forget that.”
“Hey, isn’t that a bit harsh? She...” Gunther started to ask, summoning the ire of Odin’s eye. “I… apologize for talking out of turn.” He grasped his arm as if gripping an injury.
“As I was saying. Zeus…” Odin continued, Gunther tuning out, not wanting to push his luck again.
“Hey, thanks for that,” Ares said, suddenly appearing beside him, and giving him a small smile. “I figured you’d be a creep since Dad found you. Nice to know I was wrong.”
“I didn’t really do anything…” Gunther mumbled. Ares watched him carefully for a moment, watching the shy way he rubbed his arm, recalling the young version of herself doing the same and smiled softly.
“You’re kinda cute aren’t ya?” she chuckled quietly, causing his cheeks to brighten. "You really don't seem like the type who should be here."
"I..." he tried to protest, but was unable to deny her assessment. "I... was trying to find strength, but I guess it really didn't work."
"I don't know about that," Ares chuckled softly. "Something tells me there's a strength in you that you haven't figured out yet." Gunther looked at her confusedly. "Call it a hunch."
“Hmm…” Zeus eyed the pair quietly as the two awkwardly spoke to each other for the moment.
“Your power’s hold seems to be waning,” Odin noted with a hush.
“Strange, I thought he seemed fine before.”
“As I warned you with Tiamat. That power is only effective as long as long as the power appeals to them. Once shaken, and the allure discarded, its hold begins to unravel.”
“So, he has ceased to see the value of my boon then? A shame,” Zeus sighed.
“Worry not, the time to wash our hands of that risk is at hand.” Odin cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the other pair again. “Continuing on. We should discuss the succubus’s ploy.”
“Wait, you mean the magical girls?” Gunther questioned. “Those girls were a headache, sure, but are they that much of a problem?”
“Those girls, the Prism Girls as the demoness has chosen to title them, are no meager threat. She is undoubtedly seeking to empower them with divine might as we speak, and we very well may need the might of our newfound unison to teach them their rightful place. However, they are merely a distraction, not our true enemy,” Odin explained.
“True enemy, huh?” Ares grunted. “Would you like to finally tell me who our great adversary is now?”
“You truly don’t recall a thing,” Zeus chuckled. “Our enemy is the one who sought to purge us in the first place. That accursed God of the Heavens.”
“Another god? I suppose you must’ve killed each other, huh? I mean it’s not like there were any living gods before all this magic stuff started happening,” Gunther thought aloud.
“There were no gods on this side, no. Unfortunately he survived and continues his blasted reign on the other side.”
“Other side?” Gunther repeated.
“Father, what are you talking about?” Ares asked.
“My, my. You haven’t even questioned it, have you?” Zeus teased. He then began to smirk. “Where exactly do you think that mist came from to begin with?”