The clash began in the heavens, at the grand coliseum. Not with the roar of battle but with silence. The silence was so heavy that it pressed down on every god and mortal who dared to watch.
The Reaper stood on the ground, his dark robes unmoving despite the winds that circled the arena. Before him, Eros, the god of love, was seen kneeling. His face was pale, and his eyes were more or less dead as if he accepted the outcome. The ethereal golden fluid—ichor (god's blood) was flowing out of the cuts from his body, from top to bottom, and his hands were on his knees, unable to raise them.
Above them, Zeus, the King of Gods, sat on his golden throne. His voice, deep and thunderous, shattered the silence.
"Azrael!" Zeus bellowed, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne as if he were going to break out of anger. "You cannot kill the god of love! His death will ripple across the universe. Your mistake will curse every mortal."
