Tournament of the Reborn (Eng)

Omniscient Narrator

In a forgotten corner of the cosmos, where the echoes of ancient battles still linger in the air and the shadows of fallen gods fade with the centuries, the Greek god of war waited. For many, immortality was a gift; for him, a curse. Too long without feeling the roar of combat, without the broken cries of the fallen, without the relentless beat of war.

The blow of his fist against the marble table broke the silence. The metallic echo slid down the columns, like an omen that traveled to every corner of his dwelling.

Ares - (contained frustration)

“Immortality weighs heavily. It consumes. I need war. Adrenaline. Blood. A tournament where it can flow again.

Omniscient Narrator - (in Ares’ mind)

There, deep within his thoughts, the battlefield was already ablaze. Blood flowed like dark rivers, voices of victory and agony intertwined in a single roar, and steel, relentless, found flesh with cold certainty. It was a spectacle older than the gods themselves... a symphony forged in chaos and glory.

Omniscient Narrator

With determination, he crossed the realms until he reached Asgard, where the dwelling place of the Father of All stood. In front of the golden gates, a deep caw cut through the air. Two winged sentinels watched him, as if the warning that precedes judgment were written in their eyes.

Huginn - (solemn and thoughtful tone)

Caw, caw! (paused) The god of war seeks an audience with the Allfather... What new echo of blood does he bring?

Muninn - (biting sarcasm)

“Caw, caw!” (mocking) “Surely another of his senseless plans. He never tires of bringing death.”

Odin - (imposing calm)

“Bring him in. I will hear what he has to say.”

Omniscient Narrator

Ares crossed the threshold of the great hall. His mere presence made the air tense, as if the very roof of Asgard were bending to contain it. He bowed his head slightly; it was not a gesture of submission, but mutual recognition between those who know the value of war.

Ares - (cold determination)

“Odin, I propose this: a tournament with the best warriors of all ages. I will bring them back. They will fight to the death.”

Huginn - (grave, meditating on fate)

“Bring back the dead on a whim of blood? Fate is written in every battle, but not everyone understands its weight.”

Muninn - (cynical disdain, with suppressed laughter)

“Honor, glory... nonsense. In the end, all that matters is who is still standing.”

Odin - (calculated curiosity)

“A tournament, you say. Interesting... But tell me, what are you really after?”

Ares - (relentless ambition)

“Glory. I will prove who is the strongest in all of history.

Odin - (firm authority)

“Silence.” (His voice boomed through the hall.) “I will grant you an audience in the divine hall, god of war. But remember: I am not only the god of war, but also of wisdom. The consequences of your actions should not be taken lightly.”

Omniscient Narrator

He turned on his heels and walked away without looking back. His footsteps echoed in the corridors like drums announcing an inescapable fate. Between the columns, a shadow slipped by with the speed of a dangerous thought. Then, a low laughbarely a whisperbroke the silence. It was not the laughter of joy... but the kind that always precedes intrigue and ruin.

Omniscient Narrator

Loki emerged from the shadows with a crooked half-smile, the same one that had tinged the hallway just seconds before.

Loki - (with grim irony, tilting his head with feigned curiosity)

“Ares... what a singular surprise to find you here. Do you really think that old man of endless silences can give you more than he appears to? (a brief, venomous smile crosses his face) Come on, enlighten me. Maybe I’ll keep your secret... or maybe I’ll twist it, if it’s entertaining enough. You know, I like to play with the truth until it no longer recognizes itself in the mirror.

Omniscient Narrator

His eyes hardened, cold as the freshly tempered edge of a sword. When he spoke, his voice was not words... it was impact: a blow that needed no echo to leave its mark.

Ares - (contempt and contained threat)

“What I plan is none of your concern, Loki. Shut your mouth if you don’t want me to rip out your tongue with my own hands. What I discuss with Odin is a matter for gods... not for snakes with forked tongues. Get out of here before I pierce your chest with my spear.

Omniscient Narrator

Before Loki could reply, the air thickened, heavy like the sky before a storm. Firm footsteps echoed in the hallway, each one carrying the authority of a thousand victories. A broad shadow, haloed by a harsh light, fell over them, announcing the presence of one who needs no introduction.

Thor - (restrained threat, voice deep as thunder)

“What are you doing here? And you, Ares... a Greek god in Asgard talking about a tournament to the death with resurrected humans. I didn’t think your thirst for blood would go this far... or that you would turn to my father to satisfy it.

Listen to me carefully: if you cross a line, I will confront you. And when that moment comes... there will be no redemption for you.

Ares - (cold defiance)

“I won’t waste my time with you, Thor. I’m not interested in a duel right now. But if you get in my way, I will remove you without hesitation. This tournament is an ode to war. Even a warrior like you should understand that. Or am I wrong? (with disdain, turning his head toward Loki) I won’t waste any more time on you... or you, Loki.

Omniscient Narrator

The echo of those footsteps faded into the endless corridors of Asgard, until only the expectant silence engraved on the golden walls remained. The gates of the heavenly hall remained closed, relentless guardians of an irrevocable destiny. As he crossed them, the gloom receded before a solemn glow, and a grave, almost ritualistic murmur died away immediately.

Omniscient Narrator

Ares did not look back. The encounter with Loki and Thor remained vivid in his memory, not as a distraction, but as an omen. Opposition had taken root, and every word he uttered from now on would be a calculated move on the board of the gods. He breathed calmly, aware that what he was about to propose would alter the course of all pantheons.

Omniscient Narrator

The celestial hall oscillated between light and shadow, as if day and night were vying for dominance. Ares advanced with the steadiness of a soldier entering battle, without crown or scepter, but with the only insignia he needed: the authority of war itself. Above, Odin waited, motionless, his gaze fixed on the invisible threads of destiny. The air was thick, as if even the gods were holding their breath.

Ares - (firm, resonant voice, commanding authority)

“Gods, you have been summoned to hear my proposal. I bring something that will break the barriers of time, space, and death: a tournament where twenty mortal warriors, resurrected from the most glorious and bloody eras, will fight until only one remains standing. The blood spilled will be a tribute to the fallen... and to us, who gave them form.

Omniscient Narrator

For a moment, there was complete silence. Then, a voice cut through the air with the precision of a katana. Susanoo no Mikoto, arms crossed and his face marked by ancient boredom, spoke without emotion... like someone observing a river whose course he has traveled countless times.

Susanoo no Mikoto - (deep resignation)

“And why should I care? War is not the same anymore. Mortals now fear it. They no longer seek it as they once did; most avoid it.

There is no honor in this repetitive cycle of destruction. What do we gain by watching them kill each other?

Ares - (unwavering conviction)

“We will gain a reminder. This is what it means to be a true warrior. It is not carnage; it is supremacy. Mortals will remember who we are... and what we are capable of.

Omniscient Narrator

A murmur rippled through the crowd, like wind between columns. With measured steps, Shiva advanced. His presence was not thunderous, but rather like persistent embers burning without consuming themselves, radiating a restlessness that no mortal or god could ignore.

Shiva - (dangerous calm)

“Interesting... War is but a dance. Chaos is the pulse of the universe, destruction its prelude.

If they wish to fight, let them. Every death, every resurrection, is a beat in the eternal cycle.

In all destruction... there is creation.

Omniscient Narrator

Ra stood up. Light and judgment emanated from his figure, and each word descended with the accumulated weight of centuries, like decrees carved in stone.

Ra - (imposing serenity)

“Your idea is tempting, Ares, but the balance is fragile.

If this tournament takes place, it must have clear rules. Unbridled chaos only brings ruin.”

Omniscient Narrator

Amidst the conflicting positions, Odin spoke for the first time. His voice was low, but it carried the certainty of one who sees the end before others.

Odin - (restrained warning)

“Every war leaves scars... even on the gods. Let that not be forgotten.”

Omniscient Narrator

From Olympus, a new presence claimed its place. Hera advanced without fanfare, with the unshakeable authority of one who has ruled without yielding an inch of power.

Hera - (cold and calculating)

Ares, if Zeus learns of your plans, his wrath will be relentless.

Don’t jeopardize what we’ve built.

His will rules the Greek pantheon, and to defy it would be reckless.

Ares - (cutting contempt)

Don’t mention him, Hera. Zeus is out of the game. I am in charge now. This tournament is my decision. Even though he is your husband... his power no longer has a place here.

Omniscient Narrator

The hall was enveloped in a thick silence. It was not reverence... but the stillness that precedes inevitable conflict. Hera held Ares’ gaze, aware that they had just crossed a point of no return.

Omniscient Narrator

The room was enveloped in a thick silence. It was not reverence... but the stillness that precedes inevitable conflict. Hera held Ares’ gaze, aware that they had just crossed a point of no return.

Without a word, the god of war turned and left. His shadow, silhouetted in the doorway, remained like an omen. Because war... has never belonged only to mortals. And perhaps the time had come for the gods to remember what it truly means to fight.