Ascension

ch 46

The sky darkened, heavy with the omens of war. The gods had gathered, their presence filling the air with a palpable tension. On one side stood the allied forces of the Celtics, Aztecs, and Greeks. Their leaders, solemn yet resolute, prepared for the confrontation that would decide the fate of their worlds.

Celtic banners fluttered in the wind, emblazoned with symbols of power and protection. Leading the Celtic forces was their deity, a figure shrouded in mystery and revered for his wisdom and strength. Though they mourned the loss of Morrigan, the war goddess who had fallen to Ashur, their spirits were unyielding.

Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, hovered above the ground. His emerald feathers glistened under the dim light, and his eyes burned with the fire of a thousand suns. The Aztec god's presence was both awe-inspiring and fearsome. He whispered words of encouragement to the warriors below, his voice carrying the promise of divine support.

Beside him stood Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and warfare. Clad in gleaming armor, her grey eyes scanned the horizon with a strategic mind. Every detail of the battlefield was absorbed and analyzed. She had crafted intricate plans, knowing that this battle would require more than brute strength—it would need cunning and intellect.

Poseidon, the god of the sea, stood tall and imposing. His trident, the symbol of his dominion over the oceans, crackled with raw energy. The earth beneath him seemed to tremble, as if acknowledging his power. The Greek god's expression was one of grim determination; he was ready to unleash the fury of the seas upon their enemies.

Opposite them, the Sumerian gods had arrayed themselves in preparation. Sumer, the embodiment of their ancient civilization, led them with a regal bearing. His resolve was as unyielding as the ziggurats that dotted the Sumerian landscape. The gods of Sumer stood with him, their loyalty unwavering, prepared to defend their realm to the last.

As the armies faced each other, a moment of silence descended upon the battlefield. The calm before the storm was a breath held by the universe itself. Then, with a roar that shook the heavens, the battle began.

Quetzalcoatl surged forward, his serpentine form weaving through the air with astonishing speed. He unleashed torrents of wind and fire, his elemental fury directed at the heart of the Sumerian forces. The Sumerian gods retaliated with ancient magic, invoking the primal forces of earth and sky. The clash of elements created a spectacle of power and destruction.

Athena, her shield raised high, led a contingent of warriors into the fray. Her strategies unfolded with precision, each move calculated to exploit the weaknesses of their opponents. She faced Ninhursag, the Sumerian mother goddess of the mountains and earth. Their clash was a meeting of intellect and strength, each probing the other's defenses with a tactical genius that left the ground scorched and shattered.

Poseidon, wielding his trident, summoned waves of water that cascaded across the battlefield, sweeping away enemy ranks. Baal countered with torrents of his own, the waters clashing in a titanic struggle that sent shockwaves rippling through the land.

Above the chaos, the Celtic deity called upon the ancient powers of his people. His voice was a symphony of thunder and rage, and the ground erupted with the force of his command. The Celtic warriors, inspired by their leader's might, fought with a fervor that matched their divine allies.

Amidst the turmoil, the figure of Ashur, the Assyrian god of war, emerged, a symbol of relentless aggression. He engaged in a fierce duel with the Celtic deity, their blows resonating with the clash of civilizations. Basset, a warrior of unparalleled skill, moved like a shadow, striking at the heart of the Celtic lines. His speed and precision were unmatched, and it was clear why he had been pivotal in Morrigan's fall.