Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.

Author's Note: This is a series of oneshots featuring the death of the Olympians during the Titan War. A little depressing, but I had to write it. I will go through all of the Olympians, as well as any minor gods any of you guys ask for in reviews. A little incentive, hmm? Thanks for reading!

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Death of the Gods

Chapter I: Ares

~By Sa Rart~

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Ares ran, the heavy tread of his boots sinking deep into the swamps of Florida before he yanked them out again for another step. His breath came in deep gasps. Even the God of War got winded after running.

Behind him, Ares could hear the lusty howls of the hellhounds and spawns; he could hear the pounding, earth-shaking footsteps of the Laistragonians. But his acute senses could also pick up five other beings; Coeius, Phoibe, Krios, Hyperion, and Thea. Five Titans, all after him.

In a way, it was flattering, how much they had put together to defeat him. As the god of war, Ares grew more and more powerful as the war reached its climax; at one point, his powers had even surpassed those of Zeus himself. The power had started to peter out a little lately, but it was still at the peak of its force. Even so, he was more powerful than he had even been since World War I.

But in his heart, Ares knew the power of the Titans. His strength had grown over the past six thousand years; the Titans' had been building for thousands of millennia, since the reign of Gaia and Ouranos. Even while imprisoned, their strength had grown. And five of them would be too much, even for him.

Hyperion and Thea were married, and were two of the most powerful Titans in existence. Hyperion ruled over Tartarus, and even now, with his realm buried under miles of rock after Gaia collapsed it, he retained his powers of chaos. He had the ability to warp matter and consciousness beyond recognition. Nobody knew exactly what his wife could do, beyond summoning light and Stymphilian birds, but all the legends agreed it was powerful. Hyperion's true form was that of an armored warrior in full body armor; none of him was visible but his eyes, hands, and face. He generally took the form of a twenty-foot tall Greek warrior with tan skin and a mighty broadsword. Thea's form was that of a silvery-blonde-haired woman with pure white skin, swathed in a green cloak, and her engineered form was a photocopy of that.

Krios had been the Titan of the sky after Ouranos's downfall, and his true form was that of an immense man with leathery gray skin, huge batlike wings, and immense claws that resembled a pair of swords fused with a scorpion's pincers. They were sharper than metal, and felt no pain when struck. He dressed in a gray loincloth that was impossible to tell apart from his skin. Although he appeared as a handsome Caucasian man during most days, he wore a guise of his true form during battle.

Coeius and Phoibe ruled together over the dead, whose forms resembled flickering specters, dead white in color but for their flaming eyes. They wore guises of pale-skinned, immensely tall humans, and fought with axes made of bone. But for their hair, they were difficult to tell apart. They were of medium power – for Titans, at least.

Stymphilian birds were ahead of him, formed into an impassable wall of metal and bird flesh. Ares summoned a burst of fire and burnt them to charred carcasses and kept running.

But with a rustle of leathery skin and a blood-chilling cry, Krios swept from the sky in front of Ares, blocking his path. Ares, gritting his teeth, spun in a half-turn, half facing Krios and half facing the approaching horde of monsters.

Laistragonians sprang from a grove of mangrove trees, shouting war cries. Ares's immense sword swept through the air with breathtaking speed, spilling the giant's intestines onto the ground in a viscous, disgusting pile, where they disappeared along with the bodies. But the next wave, of hellhounds and spawn, were upon him. Fire burned in their eye sockets; Claws of Krios glinted at the spawn's paws. As one, they leapt.

Ares began to spin, feet moving in an intricate pattern of steps that increased his momentum with every revolution. Sword and the dagger that he clenched in his other hand sliced spawn and hound up with barely a pause, obliterating them easily.

But now metal feathers sprang from the sky, just as flaming bronze balls leapt from the hands of the Laistragonians. Twin specters appeared from the mangroves; Coeius and Phoibe. With them came a mob of undead mortals, howling as they charged.

Skeletal warriors from every age and time sprang from the ground and engaged them as Ares backed away, putting his back against a cluster of trees almost as tall as he was. The five Titans moved in, swamp and trees warping to jellylike pink goo as Hyperion triggered his powers. Ares prayed that the enchantments on his blades would protect his swords from it.

Thea gestured, and trees lifted their roots and transformed into immense humanoids of wood and leaf, brandishing sharpened wooden blades and clubs. In response, Ares sent a mental summons, and an immense tank burst out of the swamp, Phobos and Deimos upon it. They drew spears, and the war chariot engaged the tree-warriors, shifting from tank to chariot to motorcycle to plane and to helicopter; whichever was the most suited to the current combat.

Krios lunged from the skies, twin claws fastening upon Ares's sword as his clawlike feet dug into Ares's side. Gritting his teeth, the Black Warrior flung the Titan aside in a single twist of brute force, catapulting him into Phoibe, knocking her aside briefly. But her husband lunged, bone axe chopping viciously to cut into Ares's left hand. The dagger dropped as ichor dripped from the wound.

With a mighty roar, the God of War sprang forward, swinging his sword with unmatchable fury. It bit into Coeius's hip, then disengaged and knocked the axe from his hand. The sword then swung back and batted the immense axe forward, sending it flying into Krios's wing. The Titan roared, stepping back.

But Ares wasn't finished yet. He sidestepped Hyperion's swing, hurling a blast of fire to keep Thea back, then swung. The sword cleaved through Coeius's skull, and the Titan dropped like a stone. One down.

Phoibe had regained her feet, and howled with fury at her husband's killer. Ares lashed out with a barehanded backhand, sending her reeling backwards with a crushed windpipe, collapsing next to her husband.

Thea and Hyperion attacked in tangent, swinging swords in perfect unison at opposite sides of Ares's head. He ducked, letting their blades clash together, then jabbed with the point of his sword into Hyperion's armpit, biting through armor with ease. But Krios, who had been forgotten, swooped down, claws biting into Ares's shoulder and knee. He grunted in pain, dropping the sword as his nerves screamed in protest.

Phobos, his enemies dead, tossed his spear to his father, who caught it and braced it against his hip. But Thea pointed an arm, and an immense hand made of the mud and watery swamp, swung up, catching the war chariot and, with both brothers inside, squeezed, reducing both immortals and tank to a pile of crushed metal before melting back into the swamp.

Three Titans remained, against a wounded Ares. But both sides stayed fifty or so yards apart, taking a breather.

Ares leaned against a tree, tempted to flee. But he knew that the three Titans would just stalk him, finishing him off at will. But with his wounds, he could not fight as he had before. He was doomed.

Ares half-closed his eyes, wondering what he wished he had done. He wished that he could have made amends with Perseus Jackson, the greatest warrior of the age. With training, Ares could have made him the greatest fighter of all time. He wished that he had cared more, for his children and his lover, Aphrodite. He wished that he had built something up in his life, not just tore down everything.

And from these wasted wishes rose a sense of remorse and grief, greater than any he had ever experienced in the past. And from it, the Black Warrior, Ares, the God of War, Mars, drew power. In a single motion he scooped his sword up from the ground and lunged at the Titans.

The spear he swung with all his strength at Krios. The Titan jerked aside at the last moment, and instead of impaling him through his black heart, the spear pinned his huge wing to a tree, tearing through skin, muscle, and bone on its way. The huge Titan screamed in pain, writhing from side to side in agony.

And Ares, a blur of motion, swung the sword in a dazzling combination swiping Thea with such force that she tumbled off her feet, out of the fight for a brief moment. And in that moment, Ares leapt at Hyperion, stabbing him through to the heart. The mighty Titan of chaos shuddered and died.

The Black Warrior pulled his sword out and advanced on Thea, who drew her curved sword. With a quick blast of light, she briefly blinded him, and then cut a deep wound across his shin before smashing a knee into his groin. As he reeked backwards, she punched him full in the face, breaking his nose.

But Ares recover and summoned his own burst of flame before attacking with all his rapidly draining strength. He cut her across her cheek, her thigh, her arm, her chest, all shallow but long. Ichor streamed from her many wounds.

But just then, Krios, still flailing in agony, unconsciously smashed the edge of his wing into Ares's jaw. The brief distraction was all Thea needed. She lunged, blood and rage distorting her beautiful features, to slash the blade across his throat. Ichor bled out, in a constant stream.

"Die slowly," hissed Thea, fury written across every line in her body.

And Ares fell, landing with a colossal crash into the swamp. Some instinct caused him to bring his sword up across his chest, clasp his hands over it, then to give in to the pain and the abyss.

But for the first time in his long life, despite the incredible pain raging through his body, Ares was at peace.