Ascension of the Fallen

Vacation in the Pit

AN: I know I said don't expect quick updates, but here's a little treat. 

Vacation in the Pit

Ascension of the Fallen: Chapter 2

Many eons later

Perseus walked through the toxic, barren landscape of the Pit. The normally monster infested pit was strangely devoid of hostile beings who wanted to kill the former king of Olympus. Normally, he'd have hordes of monsters rushing at him, trying to extract their pitiful revenge. Monsters were not a logical group of beings; naturally they wanted vengeance but a god in Tartarus, although severely weakened, was still a god. Perseus looked around the barren landscape; there were brown plains for miles. No plants, no animals.

Tartarus was quiet, far too quiet.

The Pit was typically filled with thousands upon thousands of monsters, coupled with more than a few powerful Titans, thirsting for Perseus' blood; after all, Perseus had made more than a few enemies during his reign. No monsters did mean that the god of time could rest; after all, he wasn't one to take a gift horse in the mouth.

The god of time stopped at the banks of the River Phlegethon, bending down to drink the vile substance. Vile and disgusting it may be, but it was what kept him alive. Even for gods, the Pit was purely toxic. He spluttered and coughed violently as the amazing drink went down his throat. The god resisted the urge to throw up and forced the substance down. His strength and energy were restored, as his cuts were healed from the Phlegethon water. Perseus leaped across the Phlegethon, reaching the other side. One did not want to fall in the river; that would have been disastrous. Perseus trudged onwards, seeking to find the doors of death.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the distance.

Perseus squinted; it was hard for one to see through the thick, orange haze that was covering the plains. Perseus drew a celestial bronze sword; his trusty blade was lost when those dishonorable Olympians overthrew him. He needed to obtain his symbol of power to wage war on them.

The god shook his head; no point in focusing on the past. Justice would be served soon. He would bide his time wisely.

The six-foot four god looked at the figure; it was fast approaching.

The features of the figure gradually became clearer as the person- or thing - approached. The first thing the god noticed was that the figure was significantly taller than himself. The figure wore pitch black armor, with a spear in hand. The armored figure radiated the power of an immortal; simply put, the massive frame coupled with the armor and spear was intimidating. But Perseus had stood up to the Crooked One himself. The god remained unfazed, as he watched the figure come closer. A couple of yards away, the figure stopped. It was clear that this was Pallas, the titan of warcraft. Pallas was nothing short of intimidating, radiating intelligence and strength.

Perseus immediately raised his sword, racking his mind for more information on the titan. The god couldn't recall any appearances of the titan in the titan war... maybe he was friendly?

The titan's dark eyes scanned the god, before narrowing.

Pallas raised his dark spear, yelling, "Watch your head!", before promptly hurling the spear with immense velocity straight at Perseus' head.

Perseus' eyes widened, before ducking and rolling out of the way.

The spear had lodged itself in the head of an overly large drakon, which promptly disintegrated.

Perseus watched the spear return to the titan's hand, before examining the titan's face, which was weary with exhaustion and covered with sweat and grime. Pallas sat down on the barren ground, patting the ground next to him.