Unsure of what madness this was (or rather, which nameless, cowardly god tortured him now) Kratos did not allow himself to fear his surroundings.  He was the greatest of men and of gods.  He did not know fear.

He had demolished no less than twelve metal demons – yet no gods revealed themselves.  As ever, humans fled in meaningless circles around him, but he took no notice of their presence.  He did not bother to care for their strange garb or mannerisms.  Their tongue was garbled and seemed to comprise far too much of shrieking.

It seemed only logical that he must find the highest place to discover the truth of his surroundings.  The homes here were nothing like his memories – there were few buildings of stone, but there were many of metal and glass.  This glass was nothing like he had ever seen, perfectly clear and smooth – their handiwork nearly inhuman.

The largest were baffling to him – no human structure had ever been so mammoth before.  Despite the protests and pleas of the humans, he stormed onwards.  Many dove out of his way, still others attempted to stop him.  He did not bother to withdraw his blades to end them.  A well placed blow or kick had them crumpling at his feet.

They were pathetically weak.

The first room was enormous of its own accord – it could suit a temple.  It was light, clean, and had much space.  There were no stairs visible, and anger followed the realization.  Was this some trick?  If necessary – he would scale the outside of the building.  He jerked up as more of the humans screamed at him – and disregarded him.

What interested him was the small room of many doors.  Large groups of people left it – and then the doors would close – then more people would get out, yet none entered.  It was magic, to be sure – and this portal would return him to his rightful place in Olympus!

He stormed into the small room, as humans scattered from his path, some screaming.  One withdrew a strange black object and pointed it at him (as though it should frighten him).  Rather than waste the energy to move over and take it, he dropped one blade – flicking it in an absent, controlled movement.

He severed the arm of its holder in the single blow – and did not stop in his stride.  He flicked the blades back and they seared into his flesh – as always they did.  He sneered as they all fled him and the doors closed.  This room was clearly one that belonged to an oracle, or something similar.

The walls were all reflected, but the image was distended and fuzzy.  Kratos did not have now, nor had he ever, the patience to See more than that.  The doors closed behind him – and before him lay a panel of many symbols.  He watched it – but his interest was hardly piqued.  He had solved more pressing puzzles before.

He pressed a button, bracing himself for a reaction.  Instead, it merely glowed.  Pleased with his perceived success, the box lurched – then began to move.  He could feel it, though no movement was visibly obvious.

Several moments later, the doors shifted open again.  Kratos peered outside – they were not yet on the roof of this building.  A fairly tall, thin youth entered, staring at a black device he held.  Kratos thought, at first, that he had best destroy it, but could not help cold bemusement as the boy did not look up.  He walked into the oracle room and pressed a symbol on the far wall without even glancing at god that stood within feet of him.

When the box lurched again, Kratos shifted, wondering what the boy had done, and crossed his arms.  He nearly spoke aloud before – marveling – when he realized that the black square the boy held was glowing.  The shapes of people were visible and audible, though they also spoke in the same garbled tongue.

The boy must have been a powerful oracle to have such magic at his expense.

“Give me your device, boy,” he demanded finally.

He was obviously no warrior – Kratos could all but taste his fear at the simple words, watching his tanned skin go bloodless with fear.  Kratos laughed, the hilt of one blade.  Brown eyes slowly climbed up the bare, scarred chest until they meet his own – the face paled further.

He looked like a woman, Kratos thought mockingly, very amused.  Perhaps touched by Aphrodite – his structure was delicate and his features soft.  His eyes were slanted, but wide, and he fell back a half step, pressing back into the wall behind him.  His garb was alien – all in black – and Kratos wondered if this was common for his station.

He held out one hand – even the questioning gesture was threatening.  The answering expression was perplexed.  The boy did not understand.  The direct speech of a god, and he floundered.  Kratos laughed, the sound was cold and unamused and he his hand again, towards the diving box.

“Give,” he said pointedly.  Perhaps fewer words would be more understandable.  Obediently, the box was given to him, its texture not stone or clay – but something like glass.  Fearfully the boy edged towards the symbols on the wall.

Kratos snarled as a thin hand reached for a button, and slapped him away.  The Seer would undoubtedly have protections in his box, and Kratos did not want to be interrupted.  With a squeak, the boy fell back.  Assured that he was cowed, Kratos picked up the black square and stared into it.

There were people on the screen still – but they did not respond to his questions or his demands.  Growing angry again he shook the box, but it did not seem to affect them at all.  Perhaps they could only see their Seer.  He glanced up again at the boy – to see that he was at the panel again and had pushed a symbol.

Furious, Kratos moved and tore out the panel entirely throwing it across the small space.  Instantly, the Seer’s box shuddered and squealed – and stopped.  The doors did not open.  The boy fell back, utterly and visibly terrified, and he sank stiffly to the floor.  Sneering, Kratos picked him up by the front of his shirt, tearing him to his feet.

He the black square in his face, hoping the people would react to their Seer.  One shaking hand rose and he pressed a symbol on the box, and the group of people began to move.  Kratos grinned, the expression more bloodthirsty than amused.

“Good, Seer,” he applauded.  The boy attempted to smile back, though his expression was strained and still frightened.  “Tell me why the gods have brought me here,” he said.  “And perhaps I will let you live.”

He pressed the black square back into the shaking hands, and stood over the small form.  Though no understanding came to his eyes at the words, the boy numbly accepted the square – a Seeing Stone, perhaps?  It was oddly smooth, but far sturdier than glass.  He clearly understood the concept.

Though he trembled underneath Kratos’ towering form, he began to maneuver the people in response.  Kratos watched their progress with fascination and no small amount of annoyance.  They were damnedly slow – how was he supposed to find his answers waiting like this?

After several long moments watching their progress, the stone flashed white and black – then there was a monster within the stone, summoned before the Seer’s people.  Kratos bristled – was he to face more monsters before he would continue?

The young Seer glanced up at him and asked a question.  His words no more clear than before, Kratos chose just to glower down at him instead of formulating an answer.  The boy winced – but persevered.  He pushed a few fingers against his chest and made a rhythmic, meaningless sound at him.

Then did so again.  “Kyu-Hyun,” he said.  Then again.

Did the stupid boy think that Kratos cared for his name?  Instead, he chuckled lowly, and, almost dotingly, responded.  Seers were strange – perhaps it would give him more insight.  “Kratos,” he said in answer, proudly.  “God of War, God of Death.  Kratos.”

The boy blinked.  “Kratos?” he echoed – pronouncing it incorrectly, but, Kratos had no doubt, as closely as his native tongue would allow.  

After saying the name – the monster was defeated, and Kratos was proud – his mightiness knew no boundaries, after all.  “Onwards, Seer Kyu-hyun,” he demanded, watching avidly for his fate.

Nodding carefully, the Seer seemed to relax some, and he began pushing a new sequence of symbols.  Fascinated, Kratos watched on as minutes became hours, determined that they would divine his fate and he would return home.  Watched as every battle encountered was defeated.

The group on the Seeing stone followed these new directions and they were led to an elderly man.  He was built powerfully and lightning danced for him.  Kratos narrowed his eyes – when would Zeus learn?  He could not stop Kratos.

Nothing could stop Kratos.

They fought, and Seer Kyu-hyun guided them, and Kratos snarled directions at him, determined to improve his combat.  The Seeing stone reflected their movements – when they tore the god asunder, Kratos cheered aloud, a war call.  He picked up the Seer by both arms and lifted him into the air.

The fear returned – but a tentative smile followed, and he nodded.  They both looked over as the doors to the Seer’s box opened – and light spilled on them.  Kratos laughed mightily and he tore the doors completely open and stepped into the light – knowing that he would be victorious.

The moment his feet touched the floor – he dematerialized.  He stood atop a mountain – the city of Athens sprawled before him.  Beside him, Hermes looked amused – the god of many paths would be, though.  In a rare good mood not directly derived from murder – Kratos let him live.

For now.

He would immortalize his guide with the deeds that would follow.

He had a god to kill.

For the Great Seer, Kyu-hyun!

In another world altogether, Kyuhyun was hauled away by the head of security, told everything of the strange, enormous man’s approach, and battered with a thousand questions.  They checked and rechecked for any sign of injury on the young man – the worst he had endured was bruises around both biceps where he had been lifted and spun by the terrifying stranger.

“He wasn’t after me,” he assured them for the thousandth time, baffled, bewildered, and somehow exhilarated to be alive.  “He just liked my PSP.”

(a/n:  Okay:  Complete and utter silliness, to be honest.  Consider it twisting the GoW mythology a bit, somewhere caught after Gaea saved him, and before he finds the Sisters of Fate.  Consider Hermes a trickster who can play with the paths of any, mortal or god.  

There is no specific game in mind that Kyu’s playing, either.  Also, I had considered writing more in his point of view, but it belabored what’s a rather simple piece, so it’s been nixed pardoning the very ending bit.

I enjoyed writing this more than I probably should have, but hope that it will at least bring a few smiles out there.  And because (I hope!) not everyone who might read this will be led here from my blog, this was the result of me being consumed with boredom and feeling-terrible, begging my roommate/coworker/friend/fellow writer for a prompt.

Her response:  Yikes!  Kratos and Kyuhyun stuck in an elevator.

Well, check, check, and check, ma’am!

This is thoroughly unbeta’d, unedited, and off the cuff.  I love it, and hope that it brings a smile to you all out there.  Love you guys.  <3  Comments, and notations of laughter, requested!  Critique is always welcome, but (for this piece) will not be taken too seriously.

If you have a request, go friend me and comment in my blog about them!  Also, I love new friends!  Around finishing This Time of Night, and two new projects I’m working on, I’ll try to do them!  They’ll be mostly one-shots, and probably of a lighter tone (given my main piece is pretty dark).

Love, always!  Yours, Jiayun)