The man-sized Ares next to me fell into a coughing fit. He hawked a wad of bloody phlegm onto the marble floor. Odd that a god would hack like that, and his color seemed to be fading, the bronze-hue giving way to gray. The giant-sized Ares in the vision wasn’t doing so hot either. A deep gash marked his arm, and an arrow protruded from a thigh as big as a tree trunk. He and his Amazons retreated into the temple. But in the vision, the hulking statue in the central room didn’t have the sigil marking inscribed on the breastplate.

I watched, transfixed, as woman after woman was cut down by ax, sword, blade, talon, arrow, claw, and fangs until all that was left was Ares and three warriors.

One moved like lightning and smoke, twirling, flashing, and dancing through the assembled monsters until she was little more than a blur. Her sword seemed to be everywhere at once, and she hurled javelins from a quiver on her back even as she fought. The second changed shape at will. One moment she was a gigantic bear, ripping off a snake’s head; the next, she flung herself into the air, shifting into an eagle only to claw out the eye of a cyclops. She landed on the ground in the form of a lion, ready to devour a harpy.

The last one, goggles on her face, held a crossbow—but not the run of the mill crossbow. No, this one was covered in gears and cogs, and it had a feeder filled with quarrels on a string. Holy shit, it was basically a machine gun feeding belt. As she fired one bolt, another one rolled into place, and she’d fire the next one. She peppered monsters even as she and her sisters were pushed into the center of the temple, their backs up against and the spear-throwing statue at the center.

Then Hades strode forward, his face blank under his helmet, no skin, no mouth, no eyes, no ears. The god of death had pale skin oozing maggots and puss. He was naked, except for a loin-cloth, the helmet, and his white cloak. His limbs were long and gaunt as though he hadn’t eaten a good meal in years. In one hand, the faceless god carried a formidable club—built from the thigh bone of some monster and covered with barbed spikes. In the other, he held a rusted shield with razor-sharp edges.

Looking at the shield, I was suddenly thrilled the corpsmen had insisted on that last tetanus booster.

Hades lurched into action, burying the spiked bone club into the shapeshifter’s skull, one-shotting her with ease. Then he flung his shield like a giant Frisbee, decapitating the women firing the deadly automatic crossbow. The last one tried to speed past him, and maneuver to his flank, but Hade’s was impossibly fast. He drove the cruel yellow nails on his right foot into her legs, knocking her down. Then, before she could get away, he casually crushed her skull underfoot as he walked toward Ares.

Suddenly, the confident war god was alone, cut and bleeding in front of the statue.

“Uncle,” the giant Ares whispered with a grimace, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his weapon. “I see you have come to fight me. But I will win. You may have killed the old gods, but I will kill you.”

“You cannot kill death,” Hades replied, his voice didn’t come from his mouth, but bled from the air all around us. It was like some primal force of nature broadcasted from a different reality. “Even war will die before the universe decays. You are as mortal as the humans.”

“Perhaps,” Ares said, squaring his shoulders. “But in strange eons, even death may die. But as long as there is will, there will be war.” With a final, inarticulate battle-cry, Ares spun and marked his statue with the magic sigil. At the same time, the light coalesced around his chest, creating the diamond.

The power of the sigil erupted through the temple, battering the Amazonian corpses, and smashing into Hades like a tractor trailer of raw force. The light seemed to seep into Hade’s pale skin, dissolving him bit by bit from reality. Likewise, the flesh of the remaining monsters melted from their bones and only skeletons fell to the temple floor.

Ares had done it. He’d used the magic sigil on his statue to seal the rift.

“So,” I said. “You won. You sacrificed yourself and all your Amazons, no more orgies for anyone, but you won. I don’t see the problem here.”

Ares sneered at me, chin raised. “Watch, you fool. Watch and know.”

Ares waved his spear, and abruptly we were hoovering high above the crescent-shaped island of Lycastia once more. We stayed that way, loitering in the sky, while the sun rose and fell, rose and fell, a thousand times over, almost as if we were watching history on fast-forward. Animals scuttled through the forests, trees grew tall and died, only to be replaced by new trees. Vines crept over the walls of Amazonian city while the temple of Hades on the southern tip of the island was swallowed whole, entirely reclaimed by the vast jungle.

The sun continued to rise and set, over and over again. The mountains rose to their fullest heights but even then, time caught up with them. The stone began to crumble. Cracks opened in the earth. And from the cracks, came monsters. Only a trickle at first—like the steady drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet—but more and more came as the sun continued its madcap sprint across the sky. Soon, the spider-boars created their webs, and the snake-men hunted small animals that made their way to the island, while the harpies took to the sky.

Slowly, but surely, the underworld demons were making their way back out into the world.

“You screwed the pooch,” I muttered in a whisper. “You didn’t seal the rift.”

“I failed in the end,” Ares said. “But you?” He stole a look at me. “You will not. You will take on my mantle, Jacob Merely. You will wear the cloak and bear the shield and take on my helm. You will take my place as the god of war.”

“Me?” I asked incredulously, even though some part of me had known all along this was the natural conclusion. “Yeah, I’m flattered, but I sorta feel like you have the wrong guy for the job. I mean, I joined the Marines on a dare. I’m a pilot, not some Force Recon bubba. Dude, I’d way rather be eating pizza and playing video games than sleeping rough in the field. I’m smart, sure, but not god of war material.” I shook my head, lips pursed into a thin line.

“Even so,” Ares said. “Behold.”

I watched as my plane appeared streaking through the sky, breaking through the invisible barrier with my engine smoking. “You made it through the barrier I erected to seal Hades off from the world. And despite your objections and your puny stature, you somehow made it to this place.” I watched myself battle through the harpies, past the naga, and through the spider-boars. “Surely, this is a sign of the blessing of the Fates. Lachesis has chosen you, Jacob Merely.” Ares waved his spear and we were back inside the temple, next to his giant-sized corpse amidst the dust and bones of his Amazons and the hordes of Hades.

“Hades sleeps still. But your arrival, perhaps ordained by gods unknown, has damaged the sigil even further. In three weeks’ time, Hades will awake, and he will come here to destroy the statue and the sigil. This will open the third rift wide and spill his armies across your world. Without the gods to stop Hades, you humans will be easy prey. Then Hades will not just rule the underworld, he will hold dominion over the sky as well as the sea. You, Jacob Merely, must prevent that from happening.”

My palms were slick with sweat, and my mouth was suddenly dry. I wanted to protest. I wanted to dash out of there, run down the stairs to the western beach, then swim until I hit Cyprus. Instead, I gulped and asked, “but you’re up and about. Why can’t you just rebuild your Amazonian army and stop Hades? Seems like you’re already pretty good at being the god of war.”

Ares offered me a sad, lopsided smile. “No, what you see is a mere shadow of my strength. Already it is failing. You noticed my coughing. My time is almost done, and I have but one task left. I must pass on the blessing and the curse of my power to another. To you. And then teach you how to create my Amazonian army.”

I took a second to think about what he was asking and what the stakes were. I imagined an army of serpent-tailed naga, armed with M16s, raiding Kabul or taking out Istanbul. I thought of New York City being overwhelmed by harpies. Or what if the gorgons, with their snakes for hair, traveled through Paris turning everyone to stone? And from what I’d seen of Hades, not even a nuke was going to take him out. His arrival would be the end of humanity. Even at their best, the gods had never much liked humans. And with one on the rampage, it could mean the end of the world.

I had no choice. I was the wrong guy for the job, but I was also the only guy for the job. If I didn’t take on the mantle of the war god, the world would die, and that would be on my head. Dammit. The first rule in the Marine Corps was never volunteer for anything, and here I was about to commit a cardinal sin and volunteer for an eternal firewatch post. “Fine,” I muttered, folding my arms across my chest. “Give me your mojo, Ares.”

The god of war frowned. “What is mojo?”

“Your power,” I said, sighing. “Hit me. I’m ready.”

He slapped me. It stung like a mother fucker.

The god of war smiled. “I knew what you meant that time, but I couldn’t help myself. There is a problem, however. When you touched the godstone, you felt the full extent of my powers. The energy was too much for you, and the pain you experienced would’ve eventually driven you insane.”

“And you said I was mewling,” I complained. “The pain was terrible. So, how can you give me your power without it putting me on my ass?”

He nodded and grinned. It was not an entirely reassuring look. “Your past. While I was inside you—”

“That’s an unfortunate choice of words,” I said.

“While we were bonded,” he went on, ignoring me, “I saw how much you love games. Not manly games like dice or hunting or battle, but childish fantasy games where you build things and juggle experience points and create menus and matrices of powers and abilities. I believe you call them RPGs, as in role-playing games. Not brave enough to live a real life, eh, Jacob Merely?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped back, tired of being teased by the war god. I rounded on him, a snarl on my face. “I love role-playing and video games. Lots of people do. Gaming is a billion-dollar industry, asshole. I’m not alone. And dude, I’m a Marine fighter pilot, not a virgin, and I have a ton of friends. So back the hell off, Ares, with that bullying crap. I’m doing you the favor here, so keep pushing me, and I’ll walk away and let you deal with your own bullshit. And let me remind you, guy, you’re the one that messed this up, not me.”

Ares gripped my shoulder, fingers digging down. “Yes! That! There! That is your warrior spirit shining through. Maybe the Fates chose true, after all.” He grinned again. “Now back to these games of yours. We will use your love for gaming to ease you into my power.”

“Dude, you’re killing my shoulder,” I said, grimacing. Between my stinging face and his vice-grip, I’d forgotten about my wounds from the harpy attack.

“That is only a minor ache compared to what shall come.” He had the godstone in one hand, and before I could reply, he slammed it into my chest. For a time, I was lost in the white-hot pain. Everything was blinding agony.

And then, as quickly as it had come, it subsided.

Ares was gone, but his voice remained inside my head.

“I don’t have much time, my friend. But yes, I see you have a strategist’s mind. You will do well with the Amazon Warriors. Take the helmet from my corpse and place it on your head.”

I did as I was told. The bulky helmet weighed a ton, but I managed to get it up and over my shoulders. It slid onto my head and immediately shrank to fit me. I blinked through the eyeholes and felt my mouth fall open in shock as a semitranslucent video-game menu popped up in front of my face. What. The. Hell. Was this like an augmented reality thing? I didn’t know, but it was a helluva lot like pulling up the master menu in an MMO. I whistled softly, impressed.

I glanced through the options. There were five main categories to choose from, with multiple drop-down menus listed beneath each: MANAGE AMAZONS, MANAGE ISLAND, MANAGE FORGE, MANAGE ABILITIES, MANAGE INVENTORY. Wow. So admittedly, this whole situation was terrible and crazy, but this? Yeah, this was awesome! I felt like a little kid waking up on Christmas morning. The gamer in me rejoiced. Augmented Reality! Video Game World! Hells yeah.

And there was so much content to explore. Where to even start?

I immediately toggled over to my MANAGE ABILITIES, scanning the options. There was a Character Sheet and a Skill-Tree, just like in any RPG I’d ever played. I rubbed my hands together as I pulled up the interface. Immediately, an avatar of myself appeared on the left, spinning slowly in the air. I was an average looking guy of 5’8” with pale skin, hazel eyes, and dusty black hair trimmed into a neat crew cut. Not ugly, but certainly not a ten on the knock out scale. I was also just a little flabby around the middle—I probably could’ve used a few more pull-ups and a few less pizzas. My figure wore my same stained flight suit and bore all the same wounds my real body did.

Hovering below my floating combat boots, stained with muck and blood, was a typical red Health Bar—currently, I was at 35/100. To the right of that was a brilliant gold bar, labeled Divine Essence Points, which was sitting at 10/10. To the right of my floating avatar was a character sheet, which wouldn’t have been out of place in most D and D campaigns or Online MMOs.

I gave it a once-over, not a hundred percent sure what all the stats did, then toggled down to my new Skill Trees. There were three of them—the Path of War, the Path of Miracles, the Path of the Builder.

Given the titles, it didn’t take my gamer brain all that long to figure out what each Tree was all about. One focused on melee prowess, another on badass spells, while the third concentrated on crafting. Nice. That meant there’d be lots of different game-play options.

“Yes,” Ares barked, drawing my attention away from the Skill Trees. “This will do nicely. We can use this format to slowly incorporate my powers into your consciousness. But you had better focus. The armies of Hades are waking even as their evil lord wakes and if they catch you at level one, you will be destroyed. Annihilated. You seem to have a passion for your games, but now your very life depends upon your obsessive gaming nature.”

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” I replied with a grin. “And my mom said all those weekends spent in front of a screen wouldn’t pay off.” The grin slowly slipped from my face, though. This was cool, sure, but it wasn’t just my life on the line. Everyone’s life was on the line here. “But it’s not just about me,” I said, “it’s about the whole world, right?”

“You are correct,” the War God said weakly. “At this level, you will need the helmet, but eventually you will be able to access the menu without it. Go to the ‘Create Amazon’ submenu, located in the MANAGE AMAZON tab.”

With a thought, I brought up the interface, scrolling over, then selecting the ‘Create Amazon’ option. A new screen appeared before me, listing the types of Amazons I could create using this new-found power. There were six main kinds of Amazons total, and each class had a small animated GIF next to it, showcasing the type. One shot bolts of lightning, another disappeared and reappeared in a blink. Another shifted into a bear, before transforming into an eagle. I took a moment to scan the list:

Amazon Class Specialities:

1. Elementalists: Elementalists can tap into the Divine Power of creation, harnessing the elements with deadly results.

· Flóga Mágissa, or Flame-Witches, wield the destructive elemental force of fire.

· Gi Mágissa, or Earth-Witches, tap into the heart of Great Mother Gaia to control the earth itself.

· Aéras Mágissa, or Air-Witches, harness the power of the wind and sky.

· Neró Mágissa, or Water-Witches, embrace the power of Poseidon to harness the water.

· Dasikí Mágissa, or Forest-Witches, can speak the language of the Forest.

2. Battle Wardens: The Battle Wardens make up the bulk of the Amazonian army. They can possess enhanced speed, strength, durability, or melee weapon mastery.

3. Beastiamancers: Beastiamancers have a special connection with the wild things of the forest; they can control the minds of animals, and ride into battle on giant beastly mounts, acting as heavy cavalry. High-level Beastiamancers can also shape-shift, taking on any animal form they desire.

4. Rune-Casters: These Amazons are predominately crafters and builders, with incredible strength, who utilize ancient Runecraft to build amazing weaponry. Though they are not front line-brawlers, Rune-Casters can use engineered ranged weapons with deadly efficiency.

· At level 3, Rune-Casters can specialize, choosing to pursue one of four different schools of engineering: Structural Architecture, Alchemy, Siege-Craft, or Invention.

5. Huntress: These are nimble, stealthy warriors who attack from the shadows. They use bows, spears, poison, and stealth to kill, and are amazingly fleet-footed.

6. Teleporters: These warriors can teleport through the air, phasing in and out of existence to get anywhere in the blink of an eye.

At level one, all of the Amazons had the similar abilities and attacks, but as they leveled up through combat, they would gain extra attribute and ability points, which I could divvy up as needed. Interestingly, I could use Essence Points to unlock their growing skills more quickly.

“Dude, this is totally like a video game,” I muttered, dismissing the screen.

“I’m the god of war and chaos,” Ares said. “Don’t call me dude. Now, you don’t see the generals option, but you need to build the generals of your army. There will be three: Myrina, Asteria, and Phoebe. The first Battle-Warden you build will be Myrina—she will be your main commander in charge of all operations. The first Beastiamancer will be Asteria, and she will lead your shapeshifters and Elementalists. Finally, your chief Rune-Caster will be Phoebe. She is a jewel, and master of all Rune-Crafting specializations. They are unique among their kind, so treat them well …” His voice faded.

I removed the helmet to see if he was okay, and immediately knew he wasn’t. The god of war was hunched over, his skin ashen and gray, a grimace of pain was etched into the lines of his face.

“Ares, if this is too much … if you need to rest—”

He rounded on me, brow-furrowed, and roared to shut me up. “Mewling mortal! Of course, this is too much. I have clung to life for millennia in order to find a successor, and now I am using every last bit of my power to give you the tools to stop Hades from destroying the world! And I have to do it using your pathetic gaming system. These women, these Amazon warriors who I loved, they will be confused.” He grimaced and clutched at his gut with one hand. “If you hurt or mistreat them, I will come back from the dead and feed you my sword, Jacob Merely. I swear it on my power.”

I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I realized Ares was not only dying, he was also mourning the loss of ever seeing these three generals again. It was clear he had loved them deeply.

“I’ll take care of them,” I offered solemnly.

Ares grunted, nodded, and dropped down on a knee. His weapons clattered to the floor beside him. “Use the Hammer of Hephaestus, in the forge, to create your generals. Phoebe will help you to build more. She’ll be able to explain the system and understand your unique situation. Myrina”—he shook his head—“she will not. You will have to prove yourself to her, and that might be your most difficult task.

“As for Asteria, you will find her silly, but don’t mistake her casual temperaments for lack of character. Asteria is Myrina’s most loyal and capable assistant, and it is Asteria who will act as a teacher and liaison to the spellcasters. Asteria will love you, Jacob Merely. It is in her blood. In her bones. And, if you are a man at all, you will grow to love her in return, as you will love them all. In battle, your army will rally around you if you have the courage and the will.”

He gave me a long stare, sweat trickling down his forehead, his dark hair matted to his skull. “You cannot fail. You must lead them. You must become a true warrior in every sense of the word. You are now the god of war. Do not fail.” He let out a great shuddering breath, and his skin sloughed off, turning to dust, while his blood smoked away, revealing a skeleton made of glittering diamonds. A wave of pure, golden light surged out, slamming into my chest and hurling me back several steps.

For a second, the pain in my skull returned, but it soon faded along with the brilliant light. I glanced down and realized all of my wounds from the harpy were gone. Healed. I felt … great. Awake. Alive. Powerful. Once again, I was alone in the temple of Ares except for the glowing sigil on the statue and the corpse of the war god, now devoid of flesh. All that was left was a twenty-foot tall skeleton made of perfect gems. Well, if I saved the world and got off the island, I could sell the diamond bones for a fortune.

There was my retirement, all taken care of.

But did gods get to retire? I didn’t think so. I could worry about that later, though. For now, I had a job to do: create an army, save the world, and become the god of war. Me. Jacob Merely of Rockford, Illinois, who felt moderately guilty about shooting a harpy that wanted to eat me. I couldn’t help but think I’d be the worst war god ever.

The thought fled as I realized I’d even lost track of the godstone that had started this whole thing.

I glanced around, but nada. That puppy was gone. What the hell had happened to the thing? Giant, fist-sized diamonds didn’t just disappear—or maybe they did. What the heck did I know? But as I concentrated on the gem, my chest began to itch and an uncomfortable heat radiated into my muscles. I pulled back my blood-stained skivvy shirt and nearly passed out from shock. There, pulsing beneath my skin where my heart should’ve been, was the diamond. The godstone.

With a sick feeling, I dropped down onto my ass, feeling dazed as I tapped at the stone with one finger. I guess that answered the retirement question.