Horns blared across the high walls of Atus, stirring the men posted along its battlements to stand at the ready. One such soldier, Elius, stood atop his watchtower vantage point, looking out to see the cause of the warning now. The eagle-eyed man spotted them at once, breaching the treeline. Even from such a distance, it was hard not to see them with the bright crimson eyes blazoned onto their shields. He'd become quite familiar with the sight these past few days of battle.

Stretching far across the treeline, these warriors made for quite the intimidating sight. They stood at the ready, lined in formation. From just a quick headcount, Elius could tell this fighting force had numbered far greater than the last two that had attempted to take the city. Fearsome as these invaders appeared to be though, they did not worry the man.

Elius stood with bow in hand, eagerly awaiting his chance to rain down upon them. But his chances never came. In both previous engagements, the invaders had been repelled handily, not so much as reaching within firing range for the walls of Atus. They were broken in the field, and the reason why was clear. Sheer numbers.

Just beneath those massive city walls, stood the greatest military might ever assembled in these lands. The grand army of Atus, a fighting force without end it seemed. Their might had been split into two bulwarks against this enemy invasion. One was stationed just under the city walls, and the other, composed of their greatest warriors, was ready to meet any force out in the open field.

They thirsted for a third victory it would seem. Elius heard how their spears pounded the earth in resounding unison, hoping to goad the enemy out to another swift defeat. He couldn't help but smile at that, resolute in his army's might, and proud at their bravery. And yet, in the back of his mind, a dread lingered. He recalled several nights ago, and the terrible scene within the city itself.

"Fools the lot of you!" Elius could still hear the old man's shrill call from that night before in his head. The greying fool had been perched up on some crates, barking down to passersby in the crowded city square. "You've not seen her with your own eyes as I have!" With each moment the crowd grew, many trying to shout the raving lunatic down.

"We must bow to her wishes." Elius remembered the old man pleading so fiercely. Even now the desperation in his voice was so intensely clear. "If we forsake our gods for her, the Goddess may be merciful!" Abandon the gods? This plea had only stirred the crowd into a frenzy. They'd begun to throw whatever they could at the old fool, hoping to knock him off his perch. "We just have to-" The old man was cut off by the city guards finally pushing through the now raucous crowd and dragging him away. Elius remembered that final warning most of all.

"The Crimson Goddess will be upon us soon! She'll-," a swift strike to the temple put an end to the ravings, but the old man's message had been delivered. Not that Elius had known what to make of it. Exactly whom had he meant? A Crimson Goddess? It sounded laughable. It was laughable, he thought.

No goddess had shown themselves in those following days, only this army, brandishing their crimson sigils. Gods be good, it was blasphemy what the old man had called out. And yet, a pervasive seed had been planted in the back of Elius' mind, blossoming into the smallest of lingering doubts for him. What if the old man was right? He'd push the thought down every time, and yet, invariably it would return.

Luckily, a commotion out on the field distracted Elius from such thoughts. The invaders appeared to be making their move. The Atian army had not ceased their pounding; their spears still struck the earth in an intimidating display. Even with far greater numbers, the enemy had remained much more cautious than before, not rushing headlong into attack. Elius wondered what those troops were thinking, seeing the brilliant gold of Atus shining in such a formation, knowing that twice now they had failed to break the line. All across the walls cheers were let up hoping to embolden their fellow soldiers out in the field. 

They marched forward still, now locking their shields. The invaders inched closer and closer, not making any plan of attack clear. Gripping his bow tightly, Elius studied them. What were they thinking?

The enemy attacked suddenly, a volley of arrows let loose from within their formation. The Atian forces turtled immediately, covering themselves from the piercing downpour. The enemy advance slowed to a crawl after. They loosened volleys here and there, merely prodding the Atian forces, trying to keep them on their toes perhaps. Elius wasn't entirely sure what to make of this tact. The invaders either wanted to goad the Atian forces over to their positions, or to distract them for some unknown reason. There was no chance of his army leaving their positions, and it would be nearly impossible to flank around that vast front line. If either was their plan, then they were bigger fools than he'd thought.

Watching them continue their haphazard volleys, Elius wished he could have given them a taste of their own tactics. If only he could fire upon them from his watchtower, he would have loosened arrow after arrow upon them. But he would have to remain content with simply watching the Atian front lines rip them to shreds. It seemed it would happen soon enough.

At last, the two masses of humanity would clash out on the field once again. The enemy set into a full forward march towards the defenders. Their gait picked up steadily until they were charging full speed. Each army let up a final battle cry before that terrible collision. Elius could hear the sounds of battle all the way back from his station atop the city walls. Shields scraped against one another, spears punctured their targets, and swords left their sheaths for the up close and ugly fighting. It appeared to be chaos down there. The enemy forces fought with a ferocity they had not shown before. A bloodlust that betrayed their questionable tactics only moments ago. Yet, the Atian forces held firm.

Even as the bodies began to pile up, the fighting raged on with neither side giving an inch. Simple math appeared to be on the Atian's side again though. Elius had noted that even with this newfound animalistic edge in the invaders, once more, sheer manpower would make the difference. Seeing his forces hold firm, he prayed to the gods that this would soon be over, and that hopefully, this would be the last of the skirmishes. Elius did not yet realize his prayer would soon be answered.

As the bloodshed continued down below, Elius found himself distracted by a curious sensation. It was nearly imperceptible, but he swore beneath his feet he'd felt something off.

Thud…

What was that? He wondered. The next that struck was much stronger than the previous. The impenetrable walls of Atus shivered slightly a moment, causing a murmur to spread amongst those manning it.

Thud…

Another, even stronger than the last, reverberated across the battlefield. Elius' gaze was drawn beyond it though, all the way to the treeline which was shaken by this mysterious tremor. The sky above it darkened as massive swarms took wing and let out all manner of calls. The birds perched within those mighty trees were fleeing from whatever had caused this shock. It was an ill omen.

One more shook the land as Elius looked back down to the battlefield. He could hardly believe what he saw there now. The invaders had simply ceased their fighting. Instead, they laid down their weapons, and kneeled. The Atian soldiers had hardly known how to respond, simply staring down at their enemies with the same bewilderment Elius was. They'd felt the tremors as well though, unsure just what to make of them.

Far beyond the treeline, a shape started to form on the horizon. Elius squinted, trying to make sense of it. It seemed familiar, strikingly so… She's coming… The old man's voice played out in his head as his heart dropped soon after.

The dull thuds resounded even louder now, not just the tremors themselves, but the terrible sounds that accompanied them. A sickening crunch and creaking bore into Elius' ears currently. Looking out into the massive forest, he put it together. Something was cutting a path straight through it, felling hundreds of trees and trampling them into mulch with every step forward.

Even as the citizens could not see what he was, they let their fear be known. Cries erupted throughout the city streets behind him, growing louder every moment.

Thud.

Despite spotting the figure as they were miles off, that last impact had still caught him off guard. The shock staggered him all the way back in his watchtower; he could only imagine how it must have felt to the men out in the field. Regaining his composure, Elius could see the Atian ranks broken, picking themselves up from the ground in a daze. He couldn't help but shift his gaze up after, seeing now in such frightening clarity what had been the cause of this shock. There at the edge of the battlefield, the Crimson Goddess towered over all.

The treads of her sandals alone were taller than the mighty walls on which Elius stood. Atop them were immense toes that stood mightier still. Beyond that, his eyes went up, and up, and up, past the greaves adorning her all powerful, and earth shattering legs. He saw that the goddess' garb was dark with a fine crimson inlay that accentuated her deific physique. When his neck was craned back as far as physically possible, Elius was confronted with the most bone-chilling sight of all, though.

The Crimson Goddess glared down on the field, her head adorned in a great helm topped with a blood red plume. Through eye holes blackened in shadow, the goddess cast her gaze down at the armies at her feet. Men shivered as those two black pits swept over them, somehow knowing that she could see them beyond the abyssal darkness that shrouded her eyes. That wasn't the only haunting vision of her helm though. Its half face mask was sculpted in such a manner to mimic her features in cold, unfeeling metal. Golem like, it created a stoic visage that would have been completely emotionless if not for the slight frown etched across her mouth then.

"Failures…" her voice boomed. Overpowering all, it was tinged with a clear displeasure that did not bode well. Although, it sounded almost as if that displeasure was addressed towards her own troops.

Without warning, her sandaled foot rose from the earth and began to hover forward. The Atian forces out on the field had thrown down their weapons and bolted at this, fearing that she would bring it down upon them. Men screamed as they rushed back towards the city, hoping to avoid this terrible impact. Not the invaders though. Elius saw that even with the goddess stepping forward, they had not moved an inch. Still they bowed to her, almost appearing to welcome their end.

She brought her foot down in the middle of the force; thousands were wiped away unmercifully in a moment. That single step had decimated much of her forces. Her own men… Failures she had called them, crushing so many of the wretches down into the earth like nothing. The unflinching expression she wore made it clear just how little she thought of what she'd just done.

"I'll take the siege from here," the goddess said down to the survivors at her feet, before stepping past them. It was almost as if she had crushed her own men underfoot simply because they were in the way. In any case, the goddess had clearly shifted her focus from them to the fleeing Atian soldiers now.

Elius watched on in horror at the whole frantic scene. The sound her foot made as it cut through the air and rushed overhead was deafening. Shadow enveloped thousands before another terrible crash right into the middle of that mass of humanity.

Entire legions were crushed beneath her immense tread. The shockwave of its impact tore through many more, knocking them to the ground as they fought to escape. He could see so many bodies flung as if they were nothing, sent into the air alongside cascading chunks of earth. The fissures snaking around her step swallowed even more. The loss of life was already staggering, and that was before she brought her other foot to rest besides this one. Even more troops were crushed, but the goddess did not finish there.

Dragging her sandal to the right, the goddess tore through the earth, smearing countless men into a canyon of her own making. The poor souls had only been afforded a mere glimpse of the unforgiving tread before it bulldozed them into oblivion. 

Elius turned pale watching this all, shaken not only by the tremors, but the sights he'd witnessed. More than half of the Atian forces out in the field had been completely decimated with those simple acts. Some still struggled to rise up to their feet and flee. The goddess would have none of that.

As their lungs burned with ragged breathing, they could see her foot passing overhead. All around them the bodies of friend and foe alike rained down from her sole. She was toying with them, cutting off their escape by simply lifting her foot mere inches forward before bringing it down. They were stopped in their tracks seeing the wall that was the heel of her sandal cut off their escape. The goddess wasted no time after. She scraped her sandal backwards, wiping out hundreds of the escapees with it, before turning her gaze forward.

The furthest escapees were beginning to make contact with the second bulwark of soldiers. They'd not yet broken rank themselves, commanded to hold position despite the living calamity coming their way. Elius could hear soldiers all along the walls pleading for their commanders to order the gates open, hoping to bring their forces out there back in a full retreat. That was a foolish hope on their parts, he knew. What good would hiding behind this wall be against a goddess like her? None, he thought seeing her peer down upon this  unbroken line of warriors at her feet.

She stood there staring at them for what felt an eternity. He saw some men break rank and make a run for it, but the rest held. Perhaps they were quaking in their boots, but they still stood their ground against this war goddess.

"I must admit," the goddess finally spoke again, "you are brave little ones." She chuckled at the sight of them all standing firm. The goddess' laugh resonated low in the pit of Elius' stomach, before she continued. "For that, I'll make it quick."

Before Elius could even question what she had meant by that, he looked up to see a peculiar sight from behind her great helm. Within the black pits, a light began to emerge. With a crimson hue, he could see the goddess' eyes now. They began to shine bright, the intensity of that glow increasing each moment. After long, they shined so brilliantly that Elius needed to look away, almost as if he were staring into twin suns.

It was as he shielded his eyes, that Elius heard a sound like none other before. A hellish screech that sounded of metal scraping against metal and a deafening thunderclap that followed soon after. Hundreds of men vanished in an instant as Elius was nearly blinded in his watchtower. He looked down to where they were, only to find a blackened and smoldering pit carved into the earth. The men in closest proximity to it flailed intensely, cooked alive in their armor. She was charging up a second blast when Elius finally put it together.

The goddess' mere gaze was death, an intense beam of light shot out from it. The entire surrounding area was bathed in a crimson hue, as she vaporized entire legions with a glare. Elius began to sweat profusely as the air itself became heated from the focused energy. When she was finally finished, fused layers of superheated earth was all that was left where the soldiers once stood. Aside from some stragglers that were too few in number for her to notice, the entirety of the Atian forces out in the field had been annihilated.

It had ceased being a battle when the goddess appeared, he realized. It was an extermination for her. With hardly any effort she had destroyed the greatest military might in these lands. The only thing standing between her and the city of Atus now, was the wall that Elius stood upon.

The goddess looked down upon the city with the faintest hint of a grin etched onto her lips. His heart beat rapidly waiting to see just what she would do now. He felt the end come as her leg stirred and she took a step forward. Her foot was so low, Elius feared that it would crash into the wall itself and take him with it. That didn’t happen though. What did was perhaps far worse.

Another watchtower down the wall was obliterated as the toe of her sandal flew directly into it. Sheets of rubble launched directly into the city, but that was merely the beginning. Right in front of him, Elius was afforded an up close view of it all. Her foot glided past in what almost appeared to be slow motion. He could see in such grisly detail the bodies from the fields that remained stuck to it, strewn all across her vast sole. The air her sandal displaced sounded like a vortex and threatened to pull him off his perch. He held onto the battlement for dear life, as everything swirled around him, not wanting to get sucked up into that gale. Others were not so lucky. Dozens of men were flung screaming off of the wall as her foot continued to pass overhead.

He was given a reprieve when it finally passed, but only for the briefest of moments, before the awful realization. The high walls of Atus had meant nothing to this goddess. she’d simply stepped over them as if they were nothing. They were nothing, Elius realized watching her foot now. The cries let up from the city below as her sandal sailed over them all were haunting. The streets had become congested with citizens all trying to scratch and claw their way out in some vain hope of escape. To the bitter end they fought all as her foot lowered.

The wailing was silenced at once and replaced by a thunderous impact so loud, Elius felt his ears all but burst. This close, the shockwave flung him backwards against a wall within his tower. He reeled on the ground, feeling as though several bones had been shattered from the collision. It was the least of his worries though. He could feel the entire structure shudder around him. Outside, he swore the walls threatened to crumble all around him. Besides some bricks shaken out of place, his tower had thankfully held; he would need to get out quickly though.

Stumbling to his feet, Elius rushed out of the watchtower as swiftly as his trembling legs could carry him. While descending the stairs to the wall proper, a shadow quickly passed by. He looked up to see her other foot rushing deeper into the city. The tremor of that step sent the man nearly toppling down the stairs headfirst. It was sheer luck that he had not broken his neck in the tumble. A wave of pain shot through him, his mind finally registering how battered he’d become in these last few moments. But he couldn’t quit. He had to fight! He had to do something.

Feeling the earth shaken again as her nearest foot lifted up in front of him snuffed out the flame within Elius though. Seeing all the debris, all the bodies, falling from her sandal tread, it all started to truly dawn on him. More screams in the distance were silenced as her foot rested on countless more lives. 

He looked down off the wall at the footprint she'd left so near. A perfect outline of her presence there only moments ago. Everything within the crater had been crushed so thoroughly beneath her immense weight that he could hardly believe it had once been a vibrant city street. One step had destroyed the entire surrounding area. He could see his fellow citizens lying motionless or trying to dig themselves out from the debris. All of it from one step…

Elius wondered a moment if that old man still drew breath somewhere in the city now. If he did, was he laughing himself silly? He'd warned them all of her, and they'd been too foolish to listen.

In the distance the blinding red flash from earlier returned. The goddess let loose a blast into the city now. The grand market was awash in crimson as the crackling red energy of her vision tore it apart. The entire area was aflame in a moment, the goddess merely chuckling at her handiwork. She did not cease the attack there. Entire roadways full of citizens were glassed, as she dragged the beam through the streets with explosive results. It travelled all the way to the grand temple. Elius saw the building burst immediately at first contact with the searing energy.

Afforded this full view of his once proud city's destruction, Elius fell to his knees, well and truly defeated. The man didn't know what else to do. He'd done nothing in the battles themselves, and done less than nothing in whatever this was. He threw himself down and prayed: prayed that this would all be over soon, that no harm would befall him, and that somehow his city would not be completely destroyed. He hoped that those prayers would be answered, not by the useless gods in that temple of ash and soot. No, he prayed to her, the one true Goddess, watching as she meted out her wrath.

As the first rays of dawn shone across the grand city of Politheia, a commotion had already arisen within. The often bustling streets of the city were cleared of all obstruction, allowing a large procession to march by. Through the front entrance way, entire legions filed out to the verdant fields that surrounded the vast city. Commanders barked orders, directing thousands of men out onto those grassy plains. In line after line and column after column, the troops assembled into formation before turning towards their true destination. Onward the army marched, now towards the grand service platform.

The constant beat of their footfalls as they marched was near thunderous. It only grew louder when the earth beneath them gave way to stone, as the legions ascended up the massive rampway of the platform. Reaching the top of the grand altar, the order to halt sounded off, leaving the troops to stand at attention. They stood in silence, awaiting their empress’ arrival. The Crimson Goddess of Politheia herself, Kara, would soon return from her conquests.

Patros was one such face in that veritable sea of thousands assembled. The young man stood ever attentive, waiting for that time when the goddess’ all powerful figure would breach the horizon. It would not be much longer, he just knew. Perhaps it was a gut feeling. That, or it was knots that formed in the young man's stomach as he stood in anticipation. In truth, there was a nervousness that struck him as he waited there. Patros had only recently been conscripted into the goddess' service corps, this day marking his first official assignment. His first day, and already he would come so terribly close to her, standing beneath her all mighty presence. When layed out such as that, perhaps nerves were to be expected.

He felt something just then, cutting off the swirling thoughts clouding his mind. Beneath his feet, the most miniscule of reverberations had travelled through the stone itself. A rhythm formed in the earth, one that grew stronger with each passing moment. Not a man there said a word, but they all knew exactly what that had meant. Sweat formed on Patros’ brow.

It was not long after those first tremors, that Patros looked upon the horizon and saw the statuesque vision of the Goddess herself coming towards them all. Even as she was so far off in the distance, he had already become swept up in total awe of her. Power was what she exuded. The Goddess’ imposing figure was one sculpted to a perfection that was only amplified by her sheer size. Standing thousands upon thousands of feet in height, her long, powerful legs swept through the air in strides so vast, she’d be upon them in no time.

Patros had thought the sound of the legion’s footfalls as they marched earlier had been thundering. That was, until he heard the resounding thud of each calamitous step she took. He watched now how each footfall sunk into the earth, cracking it and realized then how utterly foolish it was to describe mere mortals in such terms. There could have been thousands more of them marching, and their might would not have added up to even a fraction of hers.

As the Goddess approached, the magnitude of tremors she sent forth had become nigh unbearable, leaving Patros and the rest of the troops to make a concerted effort in remaining upright. He breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the command to kneel being called out, and not a moment too soon. She was nearly upon them. Every single man there threw themselves down on both knees, bowing their heads in reverence towards their great Goddess. Part of Patros had wanted to quickly peek up, and see if she had even acknowledged them there, but it wasn't his place.

The sounds of her movements this close were cacophonous, ringing all of their ears fiercely. Patros gritted his teeth, bearing the uncomfortable sensation. To add to what was already a harrowing experience, the grand altar began to shake even more violently than when the tremors had bombarded it only moments ago. The service platform felt as though it might crumble to dust as she gingerly (gingerly as a war goddess could that is) moved her sandaled feet into their positions. He swore he could feel the stone itself groan, setting his heart to beat rapidly. All of this from such a simple action as her sandal sliding against the stone.

With all the terrible noise blaring around him, Patros could no longer keep his head bowed low. He had to look up and see her now with his own eyes. Immediately upon raising his head, he felt a weight drop to the pit of his stomach. Seeing her immense feet to either side of him, his mind could hardly comprehend it. Perhaps this is why they bowed in reverence to her. To simply save them from such a sight. But Patros had stared up, and now he could no longer look away.

The depressions in the altar had only reached to the top of the sandal tread, leaving the young man to stare up at her prodigious toes which still completely towered over him. The tan monstrosities stood much taller than even the grandest of city walls, and were doubtless even more impregnable. Never had he been this close to her in all his life, to see in such frightening detail that which the most miniscule of ants might. The grooves of her toe prints, the texture of her sandals, it was all too vivid for the young man to truly take in.

Seeing this all, Patros imagined for a moment how nightmarish it would be to find himself in the field of battle against her. To see her step over thousands of lives at once, only to snuff them out a moment later. The thought chilled him, but the young man took solace in the fact that he needn't worry about such a fate. He lived to serve his Goddess after all.

His thoughts were interrupted by a mere twitch of her toes. Even that miniscule action had rumbled the altar, and was only a small preview of what would soon transpire. Patros could feel her weight shift, and hear how the tread of her sandals creaked as she lowered down to unclasp them. Reaching down from the heavens, her fingers stretched forth and deftly undid the straps holding her foot in place. The creaking from before returned, as she gently lifted her left foot out of the sandal. When it rose up high above, he could see in such stunning detail the spiral maze of grooves on the bottom of her sole, as well as the bits of earth that had become stuck to it during her walk.

After, she rested her foot down and a dull thud resounded throughout the land. They could feel her weight shifting to the left foot now as she began to remove the other. With ease he saw how the other massive tan sole slipped from it's leather confines and quickly joined the other on the ground. The Goddess had completely removed her footwear now, and simply looked down upon them all. From his position, Patros could hardly see her amber eyes piercing down at them. He'd heard her though.

"Spotless," she commanded bluntly, before stepping over the altar altogether and thundering off towards Politheia. The Crimson Goddess was one of few words. Words which more often than not, had more closely resembled thunderclaps than speech. Even so, the legions had understood her command crystal clear. It was the reason the service corps was assembled out here after all. The Goddess' sandals would often require cleaning after her conquests.

The call to rise echoed across the platform. Once more the men stood at attention and awaited further orders. Cleaning a pair of sandals. It sounded so trivial when stated plainly, and yet, a massive undertaking such as this was anything but. The thousands of men there needed to be both divided into two groups and assigned a certain task to get it done. The combination of stringent organization and backbreaking labor would be the only way to please their goddess.

As assignments were called out, Patros couldn't help but catch himself staring up at the hulking sandals to either side of him. Despite being empty of their owner, they were still quite a magnificent site. These were not even the full length ones (only reaching up to her ankles), and yet, the straps still towered so high above them. He'd be on them soon he realized. What a strange thought. His day dreaming was cut short as he heard his group's assignment. Debris removal on the left sandal.

With the workers fully assigned now, they all jumped to grab their various equipment: barrels full of water, sponges for a thorough cleaning, and carts for the accumulated debris. Now they only needed to climb on the sandal itself to begin.

Despite the sandals being level with the service platform, a gap divided the men from their task. What was almost an imperceptible distance between the two edges for the Goddess, had been a much greater challenge to overcome for them. One that overlooked what would surely be a fatal drop off the edge. They had their way to overcome this though. Patros watched as the makeshift bridges that lined all along the platform were laid out now. They latched onto the material allowing access to their work site. Slowly but surely, the men crossed over and onto the sandal.

Once on the insole, the young man couldn't help but gawk at it all. There was hardly any time to stand idle, and yet, Patros required a moment to process everything. What he found himself on now wasn’t merely a piece of footwear anymore, but a landmass all it’s own. The fact that thousands of men had fit on its surface was mind boggling enough. He could look from toe to heel and see how far both stretched in either direction from him. Looking up, he could see how the sandal's straps stretched over in an otherworldly fashion, defying logic as they seemed to perilously hang over the workers. Despite their dizzying appearance, the great shadows they cast created a welcome respite from the rapidly rising sun.

Below, the "ground" Patros stood on was firm, but he could see clearly from this perspective how it had been shaped through use. The slight dips and curves in the insole made it quite obvious where her cosmic weight had often been distributed. The depression even her smallest of toes had carved out could likely fit hundreds alone, he realized. Patros truly felt as if he had wandered onto some completely alien world.

It was not just the visual spectacle that overwhelmed the young man's senses though. The sandals had almost seemed to have a climate all their own, one of intense humidity that bore down on the workers. The footwear still radiated with heat from their Goddess, making the air so heavy, it felt almost as if she were still wearing them now. Patros could already feel this air taking effect on him, making it harder for the young man to simply breathe. This would not be easy. Even so, men had already begun laboring all across the vast insole.

To start off his own task, Patros found himself with pickaxe in hand, breaking apart chunks of earth lodged into the material. These chunks would have been less than pebbles to the Goddess, but to the young man, they were boulders that needed to be broken into more manageable sizes for removal. Swinging the pick over his head, he made quick work of it. After, the smaller chunks were loaded up onto the carts and sent off for disposal. Catching his breath for a moment, Patros watched cartful after cartful wheeled off. The debris was dumped over the edge of the Goddess' sandal, plummeting down the chasm between it and the altar. They would have to clear it from there as well once she removed her sandals, but that would have been a much easier undertaking. At least it made the disposal relatively quick he thought, before being berated to get back to work.

After Patros’ company would clear a section of debris and move on, the deep cleaning crew would immediately get to work where they had been. On hands and knees, they scrubbed the sole vigorously. The Goddess herself had commanded that her sandals be spotless, and these men did not intend to disappoint her. If that meant that they must sponge every inch, every centimeter of her sandal as thoroughly as they possibly could, then so be it. For a moment, the young man was glad that his assignment was a tad less demeaning at least, but quickly chastised himself for the thought. To serve the Crimson Goddess in any manner was an honor, after all.

Slowly but surely, they made their way along the vast sole. For every bit of debris they removed, another was right there to seemingly take its place. The monotony of their task was almost beginning to weigh on Patros as much as the heat had been. It was hard to tell how much progress they had even made in all honesty. That is, until his group came upon the depression. The ground beneath them began to decline into a massive basin. This is where the ball of her foot rested, he realized, quickly piecing it all together.

Thankfully, the slope was not too steep for them to descend. Even so, they were still cautious not to trip and twist a leg. Or worse. Patros marveled at what they were standing in now. This depression was as wide as a lake. Despite its appearance, this truly was a holy place, blessed in the shape of the Goddess herself. Perhaps it was the intense heat getting to the young man, but he swore he could feel her presence with him then. He used it as motivation to carry on.

And carry on he did, breaking up more chunks and sending them off by the cartful. They'd gotten into a rhythm by this point, becoming acclimated to the intense conditions. It was all going well until something caught his gaze.

Patros wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes and squinted at something off in the distance. It was some other kind of debris; he could tell that much at least. But what? The young man's curiosity took control; he had to know what this mysterious new finding was. As he neared it, he began to notice other similar bits of that same 'debris' peppering all around that area of insole. He'd no clue what to make of that as he approached the nearest one.

Whatever this thing was, it was flattened nearly beyond recognition. and yet, it held some vague familiarity to the young man still. He just couldn't put a finger on it though. Patros had not even been given the chance to piece it together himself, before another of the men who'd walked over to investigate as well, cried up in fear.

"By the Goddess," the other man shrieked, perhaps not fully understanding how right he was. "It's.. th-they…" he shrilly stammered, while Patros put it together. He'd hardly needed to run over and confirm, but he saw it with his own eyes now all the same. His face paled as the shape of that flattened thing became so terribly clear. The crushed husks that lay strewn about were not just any other refuse, but once men like them. Hundreds of bodies compressed into the Goddess’ insole like mere flecks of dirt. The young man had not expected to come across such a macabre sight as this. It was dizzying to look out at them all.

Upon closer inspection of this nearest body after he'd mustered up the resolve, Patros could just barely make out what appeared to be an insignia misshapen beyond recognition. The husks were equipped with armor, for all the good that had done them. These men were soldiers, that much was clear. The remnants of an army that must have stood against the Goddess. The poor bastards…

Of course, all of these scattered remains begged the question: how had these soldiers come to be here? Had they found themselves flung underneath her sole as she strode across the battlefield? Perhaps they’d been dropped on there and snuffed out as some punishment for daring to oppose her? He'd hardly been able to imagine how that may have gone. Patros pictured now hundreds of them laying broken and whimpering, dreading the sight of her sole sliding into position before settling on top of them with all that suffocating weight. It seemed an especially cruel fate to be crushed so, but it was not Patros' place to speak on the Goddess' actions. Whether they seemed cruel to him or not, her divinity placed her above such notions. Anything the Goddess did was just, and it was wise to remember that fact of life.

The majority of Patros’ group had reacted the same as he when approaching this mass execution site, but they still had a job to get done. As upsetting as it was to think about, these men flattened into the insole were little more than refuse themselves now. The same as all the other bits that Patros and his fellow workers labored to remove this whole time. The husks would be no different.

The chunks of earth had been far easier to remove than these bodies were however. The husks had been adhered to the insole so thoroughly, that Patros’ group had needed to try and scrape them off with their tools. The sounds they made as they were slowly peeled off the ground had almost made the young man gag. Luckily, he kept his composure despite all the grizzly details of it all, such as how perfect outlines these bodies had left after being removed. Grimly, they loaded the bodies up by the cartful as they were wheeled over. Those tasked with pulling them struggled to make it back up the incline with a full load, but managed to make it eventually. Patros tried not to think of how those bodies would be tossed over the edge like any other trash. He needed to keep his head straight, the job was far from over.

And so they labored on. Morning had passed well into the afternoon by the time Patros’ heard the order to cease shouted out. It was the most welcome command he’d ever been given in his life. After several grueling hours of labor, their section of the sandal had finally been cleared of any debris and scrubbed as spotless as the Goddess had commanded. The young man wanted to collapse then and there, not even worried of the fact that he might not be able to rise up again after. He stayed on two feet though, sorely marching back the way he’d come with the rest of the troops.

His group had made good time it had seemed, there were still quite a few of the legion hard at work in their own assigned sections. Most notably, he saw those all the way back at the sandal's heel still hard at work scrubbing away. He didn't envy them, especially now as his group awaited their chance to cross the bridge back over to the altar.

It truly felt as if a weight had been lifted off the young man's shoulders. He'd made it through his first day as a member of the service corps. It hadn't been easy, but aside from the heavy labor and the grizzly sight of those crushed troops, his resolve was ultimately unbroken. All that was left now was to cross the bridge back up to the platform. Patros was just about to consider the day finished without incident when everyone there felt an all too familiar reverberation once again.

"No," he muttered under his breath, before turning around towards the city. Through the sandal straps he saw her off in the distance, towering over Politheia. The Crimson Goddess had risen from her slumber and was coming their way. A panic spread all across the sandal then. Hurriedly men rushed across the makeshift bridges, hoping to make it to safety in time and to clear the way for others. All the while, the tremors grew.

Pandemonium unfolded around the young man. Men pushed and shoved all around Patros, trying to save themselves and inadvertently slowing down everyone's chance at escape. He was lucky to have been near the front of the mass of men. He nearly threw himself back onto the platform and breathed a sigh of relief. Even so, he saw that hundreds more were stuck out on the sandals still, and the Goddess had nearly been upon them.

Out of the corner of Patros' vision, the Goddess' barefoot rushed past the service platform, headed on a collision course with the earth below. The shock of its impact knocked the young man off his feet entirely, and set disastrous consequences into motion. The bridges themselves were shaken, knocking many men off balance and sending them plummeting down the chasms with ear splitting screams. The young man's mouth was agape. She... she just...he couldn't even form the thought. It was an accident of course. She hadn't meant to...but she did. Dozens of men's lives were ended from that step. The way she gazed down at them all after, made it quite clear she had hardly seemed to notice that fact.

"Hmmm," those intense amber eyes of hers assessed the results of their agonizing labor, unconcerned with the stragglers still fighting to get off her footwear. "Adequate," she stated bluntly, before standing back up to her full height. "I shall be needing these again, though."

Patros almost collapsed then and there. That entire afternoon of work, and already the Goddess was taking her sandals out again. That was the least concerning matter though, he quickly realized. The others! Workers still streamed off as quickly as they could, knowing that they were nearly out of time. The Goddess did not appear as if she intended to wait for them.

High into the air, Patros traced the motion of her bare foot rising up above them with his gaze. She truly was going to slip those sandals back on. His voice joined with the others there, shouting at the Goddess to wait, to hold on for the men still trying to file off. She had not given the slightest hint that she'd heard a single word of their horror-stricken shouts; their pleas had obviously fallen on deaf ears. The Goddess’ sole lowered, and with it, all hope of escape for those still stranded. He wanted to look away, but Patros couldn’t if he tried.

Her massive toes brushed the towering straps aside ease and gently hung over the insole a moment before touching down. The sudden weight bowled over everyone who had been on the sandal, sending them tumbling all across the sole. Those who were still on the bridges held on for dear life as the slight shift in the sandal’s position lurched them around. That was far from the end though.

The Goddess’ toes bulldozed forward, as more and more of her foot slid into position. Many of the survivors who'd found themselves further back, tripped over themselves trying to get up and escape the tan mass inching ever closer. They’d not even had a chance. Many were smeared into nothingness against the sandal’s insole. Those closer to the toe of the footwear tried their luck putting as much distance as they could from the rapidly approaching sole, but their legs simply couldn’t carry them very far.

Sickened, Patros’ could hear hundreds and hundreds of screams let out one moment, and smothered into silence the next. Her sole engulfed the area, crushing the workers into the sandal just as those soldiers from earlier had been. He fell to his knees watching it all, but somehow it still wasn’t over. After deftly tightening the straps to hold firm, the Goddess pulled her foot back, causing yet more strife for the service corps. The bridges connecting the sandal to the platform had not been fully cleared and retracted, meaning utter disaster for those still stuck on them. The mere motion of her sandal sliding outward ripped the makeshift structures straight out of their foundations, flinging the pitiful workers who still clung to them asunder. The dull thud of her foot coming to a rest on the earth was numbing after all that had just transpired.

If there was any consolation in all of this, it was that those still stuck on the right sandal had far more time to escape than the other poor souls. The casualties were nowhere near as severe, and yet they stung all the same. Watching the right sandal slip on, Patros couldn’t stop asking himself one question over and over. Had the Goddess not even noticed them all there, or had she, and simply did not care? It felt heretical even to posit, but he couldn't stop himself from wondering.

Despite the horror of what had just happened, the men were still expected to bow in the Goddess' presence. Those not still reeling did so, showing reverence to the woman that had just so callously snuffed out hundreds of lives in a matter of moments. She looked down at the men one last time before addressing them.

"Next time," she exhaled, before gruffly adding, "work faster." She thundered back towards Politheia after, not even off to some far off conquest. Patros had gotten the answer to his question though, and was unsure what to make of it…

It was their fault. That's what Patros told himself. Theirs and no one else's. The Goddess had given them ample opportunity, more than enough time to clean the sandals and clear off. They would just have to work harder next time...Next time, he thought, numbing himself to the rigors of servitude.

It was the dead of night when Lycus sat restless, staring into the crackling logs of the campfire deep in thought. Even on calm evenings such as this, sleep did not come easy to the man, not when the sounds of battle still rang so freshly in his ears. He needed only to close his eyes then to hear the thundering of armies as they marched onto the field. Oft times those sounds would be so vivid that the old soldier might find himself reflexively flinching, swearing that he could feel the clangor of shield walls up his arm as they battered against one another. Worst of all were the myriad cries men made at their end. From bloody skirmishes, to full on sieges, that infernal chorus of war had become all too familiar to the weary soldier.

The ceaseless battles had taken their toll on the man, but never to the point of breaking him. No, whenever his resolve had begun to falter, Lycus needed only to remind himself of the reason for all of the fighting, all of the bloodshed. It was all to unite the world under one rule. Her rule. In this he was no mere soldier. His life had been given divine purpose by the Crimson Goddess herself.

It wouldn't be long; they were meant to take the field at first light. All those months of fighting for a prize that was so close at hand. The legions cut a bloody path through this kingdom and now finally found themselves upon its capital of Myrydna. It was a jewel of a city, said to be filled with all manner of riches in excess. Soon they'd storm its walls and claim those bounties for the Goddess. They'd honor Her so.

Fervent as Lycus was to accomplish this final conquest, that body he swore to Her ached as he sat there thinking of the battle soon to come. He was only mortal, after all, and getting along in years at this point. He was not the youth he once was when he first pledged himself to Her. And yet, the old soldier needed only remember that fateful day he'd been blessed to fight alongside her. The memory of it was still fresh in his mind even all these years later.

He'd hardly been a man grown at the time, finding himself in his first proper battle. And what a battle it was. The Goddess' legions at the time were not as robust then, often finding themselves outnumbered by enemy forces. But this had been a particularly sizable mismatch.

Several smaller territories had banded  their armies together into a massive force to meet them on the field that day. Just from the scout's quick estimates alone, it seemed the legions were outnumbered nearly three to one. Even so they dared not turn back. The shame of such cowardice would be far worse than death. And yet death seemed a near certainty for them that day if they took the field… Until the horns blared that is.

A silence swept over the entire camp after, and every man there fell to their knees at once, throwing their heads down to the earth. An unearthly pressure suddenly loomed, pushing them to bow that much lower at this presence. It was the Goddess Kara herself who had come, deigning to walk amongst them, her loyal subjects.

Whether her height measured in the thousands of feet or the relatively "meager" ten she was then, Kara's sheer presence alone had remained every bit as overwhelming for them.

Lycus could recall trembling at the sound of her steps as they neared, shifting his head just enough to open an eye and peer at her from his grounded perspective. All he could make out from such a position were her sandal clad feet and the greaves which adorned her leg up to the knee. What concerned him was the fact those very feet were almost of a length with his entire torso, and steadily approaching.

What a fool he had been, prostrating himself directly within her path. He should have known better. Panic gripped Lycus then over what seemed a miniscule error on his part. What should he do? To remove himself out of the way would mean moving without her express command to do so. A grave offense that would surely catch her attention. No! He could not move. But she was so close at hand, he could see her sandals kicking up dirt as they trod the earth.

What if she took offense to his placement? Or what if even more likely she didn't even pay him mind and simply trod upon him as she did the earth then? He'd break beneath just one step. That's all it would take to crush his head or snap his back. Lycus breathed in and out, desperately trying to calm himself when her right foot landed inches away from his head. Close enough that he might examine toes longer than his own fingers and twice as thick.

The foot itself was wider than his head. She might have easily ended him with that same step, but by luck or mercy he'd been spared such. Kara stepped over him after, continuing on her path to the front of the camp as if Lycus weren't even there.

"Rise" she commanded them upon reaching her destination. The men obeyed, quickly jumping to their feet to await her address. 

"I am told the rabble have banded together." Her harsh voice echoed through the camp, "That they felt the need to aid each other so says much of their worth as warriors… These are not men before us, and I will not have you think of them as such. These are cowards standing in your way. In my way. We will show them the might of Polithea. Of your Goddess. And they will sorely regret standing against us this day…" She let that hang in the air a moment before concluding with one final statement. "I will take the field with you. Now, prepare."

An eruption of cheers raised up as soon as she finished. All manner of praises. Lycus himself remembered joining in chants of Ka Ra, Ka Ra along with his fellow soldiers. The Goddess would fight alongside them. What felt a near suicidal proposition had turned to a joyous occasion. Their spirits were high as the battle preparations recommenced.

It wasn't long after that they marched out to the field and formed their ranks. As befitting one of his meager  experience in battle at the time, Lycus had been given what would oft times be an unenviable position at the front. That day though, he would not have been content anywhere else.

The lines parted when the Crimson Goddess stepped out onto the field. She said nothing, but her presence alone had bolstered the men more than any rallying cry could. An icy determination was clear on her face as she finally donned her great helm, its brilliant red crest standing high above the lines.

When she extended an open hand, attendants rushed over to bring the Goddess her weapon. Her great cudgel was far heavier than any mortal man could hope to wield, and just as tall as many. Its head had two sides: one a hammer to bludgeon her foes and the other a ghastly pick that could puncture any armor.

With heads bowed the attendants placed the great weapon within her upturned palm. An eruption of cheers broke out after when she raised it into the air with astonishing ease. The very same hammer that had just taken two fully grown men to carry to her. After, she held it out in front of her and began to stamp the earth with its pommel.

Lycus swore he could feel it again just as he did that day, clashing shield and sword in rhythm with his Goddess. His heart raced in anticipation as entire legions joined in. Again chants of her name broke out through the clangor. After long his thirst for battle seemed unquenchable. Gone were any concerns he had over the size of the enemy forces. Polithea could not lose. Not with her there. 

Kara walked the lines, stoking them on with the same rhythmic thumping of her handle and gritting her teeth at them. She goaded them into an animalistic state, thumping more and more until finally… she stopped. The men who had been all but foaming at the mouth a moment ago silenced at once. Again the Goddess raised her great hammer into the air, only this time pointing it towards the enemy lines. She had not even needed to give the command aloud. The men understood. They let out one last cacophonous war cry and broke into a full charge.

That bloodlust then was like nothing Lycus had ever experienced. Charging headlong into a force that vastly outnumbered his own without second thought. None of that mattered to him, nor to any man there. It made no sense for them to do this against such odds, and yet it felt as if it were the only thing to do.

Their resolve soared ever higher when the Goddess herself broke past their lines as she reached full speed. They let up a cheer seeing her bound across the field. The powerful muscles in her legs pushed her with an inhuman fury towards the enemy. Lycus could only imagine what those on the opposing front lines must have thought seeing her rushing them at full tilt.

They didn't have long to mull it over. When the Goddess was right on top of them she did not stop. She barely even slowed down. Lycus remembered the sight then. How she rushed through their ranks as if they weren't even there. The force of her body alone had been greater than the charging of calvary.

Men simply shattered against the corded muscle that formed her powerful legs. She ran through, trampling any poor sod who stumbled and found themselves beneath her. By the time she stopped, Kara had smashed through an entire formation and then some, leaving a trail of broken bodies where once ranks of soldiers stood. The enemy moved to fill in the massive gap she had torn through them.

Hundreds of enemy soldiers surrounded the Goddess then, but she was by no means outmatched. Lycus could still easily spot her as he charged, standing proudly above them. He could also see how the enemy troops reformed what semblance of a line they could before cautiously advancing towards her. With shields aligned and spears in hand, they hoped to both cover themselves and nullify her considerable reach advantage. Kara stood her ground, letting them inch closer, even going so far as to open her stance ever so much to lure them in. They took the bait. An especially jumpy group saw their target, locking onto her exposed torso.

With furious shouts they thrust their spears at Kara, hoping to spill her divine blood across the field with a merciless flurry of attacks. The delirium of battle took hold of them as they continued the onslaught, not noticing how unaffected the Goddess was. It wasn't until one of the spear shafts literally snapped against her toned body, splintering apart and sending its misshapen head flying off, that the attack ceased.

The soldiers trembled before her then, their grips loosening just a bit, and their shield arms feeling that much heavier. All those thrusts and there wasn't even a scratch on her. They remained in formation, but one thing was made clear to them then.

She was the wall, not them.

They remained frozen in place, unable to even make a move. Planting her foot into the earth, the Goddess made one for them. In one lightning fast motion she took a free arm and pushed the remaining spears from her path before lifting up her great hammer for a strike. The stance she took then was wide and low. They could see the power build up in her limbs, coursing through her veins as she wound back. Every muscle in her arms and legs tensed just before swinging the massive block of metal directly at them. 

The results were as gruesome as expected, but no less disheartening for them. The first man she made contact with had feebly raised his shield, hoping to protect himself from the attack. But that was a foolish notion.

When the blow landed it caved the shield inward, shattering every bone in the soldier's arm and then some, quite literally rupturing the limb into a ghoulish spray. The force of the blow continued through what was left of the limp lump of flesh and slammed straight into his chest then. Breastplate and sternum both crumpled at once with a sickening thud. It was still not over. The poor sod found himself carried along with the swing, smashing through five other men before sending them all careening through the air into their fellow soldiers and landing in a broken heap.

That brutal display of power had been enough for many to turn tail, dropping their weapons and hoping to get away from that demon of a woman. But the Goddess did not see fit to allow such cowardice. She contempted it so.

Whether they attempted to flee or stood their ground, it made no difference to the Goddess. If they were close at hand they could join the macabre dance of her onslaught. The sheer brutality of her flurry then had been staggering. An animalistic fury seemed to flow through her and yet, if one looked closer they could see how focused that rage was. She kept it reigned in just enough, focused on all of those around. A skill only a lifetime of combat could hone. Every swing of her weapon collected new victims. Each stroke flinging broken bodies to and fro.

One particularly brave soul attempted to rush her while she focused on other prey. The fool caught a gauntleted backhand that cracked his jaw in two for his trouble. He was barely stumbling back to his feet by the time she was upon him. With gritted teeth she lifted the hammer up and brought it straight down on him. He all but exploded into a crimson rain that covered the Goddess even more. Her moniker seemed so apropos then. 

That was the last Lycus saw of her for a time. He himself was finally coming upon the enemy. With shortsword in hand he slashed and stabbed at any that stood before him. The fighting had been ugly, but they made progress. Lycus and the rest may not have had even a fraction of the Goddess' power, but she had instilled such a fervor in them that they fought with a singular focus. Unfortunately, even that seemed to wane in the face of the sheer numbers disadvantage.

One by one Lycus noticed his fellow men begin to fall, but he refused to lose his composure. He fought on, yelling and cursing and spitting between every break in the onslaught. Still more allies fell. But he would not take a step back.

By the time the last of his fellow soldiers nearby fell, Lycus found himself fighting desperately against four other men. He'd turtled up behind his shield, shifting and turning to try and stave off their attacks at any exposed weakness. One still managed to nick the back of his right leg. He faltered but a moment, finding his resolve at the feeling of warm blood trickling down his limb. Lycus surprised them with a sudden flurry, bashing one to the ground with his shield and slashing another's throat, threading his sword between their helmet and breastplate.

The other two standing there rushed him in turn, stumbling over their fallen friend and crashing into Lycus, who tried to stay upright with all his might. He was a man possessed, refusing to go down. Gripping his sword and shield tight, he pushed them back and made the most of the narrow opportunity. He stabbed the sword directly into one but lost his grip on the weapon as it stuck into them. The other made a swing of their own but he simply locked his arm around theirs and let gravity do the rest.

Lycus stumbled over to the ground with both bodies landing right on top of him, knocking the wind out from his lungs for a moment. His arm was pinned beneath the one stuck with his sword, but the other very much remained a threat. It was an awkward struggle to say the least, one in which Lycus was at a distinct disadvantage both on his back and down an arm. He would not give in though.

He clawed and gouged and raked at the other man, not letting them even a moment to attack; all the while desperately trying to pull his pinned arm free. It was a struggle to do so while keeping attacks at bay. It wasn't until he balled up a fist and got a clean hit in that he was given just enough breathing room to shift his arm free, deftly grabbing the dagger sheathed on his waist in the same motion. With a death grip he seized the other soldier and buried the knife in his throat. They collapsed onto him in an instant, seeping a warm crimson as they kept him in place.

Against all odds, Lycus was alive… but so very exhausted, hardly even able to move with the bodies piled on him. The rush that had pulled him through all that was finally starting to wear off. He'd thought perhaps he might take a quick rest to catch his breath before attempting to push his way out, but he had forgotten something.

The man he had bashed to the ground stirred, rising to his feet and seeing his allies all dead around the still breathing Lycus. He reached down for a weapon. Lycus himself pulled the knife from the dead man's neck and held it out in front of himself as far as he could manage, feeling at the time that this very well would be his end.

The enemy soldier yelled and raised his sword up with both hands. At the time Lycus closed his eyes and asked his Goddess for forgiveness before accepting the end. The end did not come though. Instead he felt an unexpected sensation after. No sharp pain, no oblivion, just the warm spray that dabbed his face. When Lycus opened his eyes again, he saw the soldier who had meant to kill him still standing there, only slack jawed and dropping his sword to the ground with a clang. It wasn't until he looked down that he noticed the great metal spike bursting out of their chest. Lycus couldn't believe it.

From the ground he stared up to see the Goddess lift both her great hammer and the soldier along with it. The man's head slumped over as she raised them up, arms and legs swaying limply while suspended there. She removed them, tossing the body aside without an ounce of effort. It flew several meters away onto a pile of its former brethren.

She'd saved him…

Lycus would never forget the sight of her then. With the sun at her back she glistened with blood and sweat dripping down her body in thick rivulets, looking every bit the Goddess of War. He was nearly drawn to tears when her gaze turned down towards him after. His throat tightened, not knowing whether he should praise and thank her or simply keep his mouth shut. 

The flicker of The Goddess's eyes behind the dark pits of her great helm hypnotized Lycus as she seemed to survey the scene. She clearly took note of the bodies strewn about. Those he had managed to slay before being overwhelmed that is. It seemed to please her. At least he hoped it did. In truth, what part of her face that wasn't cast in cold inscrutable metal was stone, not imparting even a hint of her intention.

He winced when she lowered herself after. Reaching down towards him, a hand larger than his head grabbed firm hold of his breastplate and forcibly lifted him up. As if he'd weighed nothing at all she pulled Lycus out from under the bodies that buried him and stood him back on his feet before returning to her full height.

She loomed over him after, his head barely coming up to her lower abdomen. That blood and sweat he saw earlier looked so much ghastlier then up close. He could literally smell the iron tinge wafting from her abs then. He couldn't take his eyes off them. Not until The Goddess herself snapped him out of it.

With a massive hand she cupped his chin and tilted his gaze up to meet her own. He trembled at her divine touch, feeling her grasp and realizing just how easily she might crush him then and there if she wanted. Instead The Goddess simply sneered down at him.

The battle around them had long seemed to disappear for Lycus, lost in his seemingly private audience with the Goddess. But it all came flooding back to him after she gave but one resounding command.

"Fight."

With just one word it all came rushing back. The noise of battle all around him seemed almost deafening then. At that, the Goddess turned and flung herself back into the fray. As if on instinct alone Lycus jumped to follow, forgetting his exhaustion and grabbing whatever weapons he could from the many bodies littering the earth around him. He fought as man possessed once again, emboldened that much more by her singular command.

When all was said and done her legions had won the day… All thanks to her, of course. She had turned nigh impossible odds into a grand victory, one that would be celebrated for a long time to come. Many honors would be handed out that day to exemplary soldiers, with Lycus himself earning more than a few. But those trinkets had meant little to him in comparison to the greatest honor of all.

She had noticed him.

The Goddess had taken the time to save Lycus, to look him in the eye, and to even address him directly. That was no commonplace occurrence, and far better a reward than any honor they could pin to his breastplate. A cherished memory he could hold onto for life.

A memory that he had found himself finally slipping out of as the first light of dawn eked out over the mountainsides. He'd spent all night reminiscing again… and with the battle so soon at hand, it would be a long day…

…

Reinforcements had bolstered the Myrydnan's forces far more than anticipated. They had enough men to send out several legions of their own to meet the Politheans out on the field. Though, the main number of Myrydnan troops held within the city proper, manning its walls and fortifying the main roadway while those in the field bought them more time. A shrewd use of men's lives, Lycus had to admit just before the day's first clash.

The day had been long. So fierce was the ensuing fighting that Lycus found himself alternated between the front and a moment's respite in the backlines several times already. Each rotation exacted a grim price, claiming a number of the men he'd originally fought alongside as its toll.

While recuperating in the backline once more, Lycus took some time to survey the battle. They were gaining ground, but the true difficulty of this campaign's final push was not here in the field, but beyond. A ways down passed the fighting he could see Myrydna's walls. They'd be a great hurdle to overcome, but one with such ample reward waiting just beyond. Both riches immeasurable and bountiful land to claim in her name. Aside from that day fighting alongside the Goddess, this would surely be the greatest victory Lycus had ever taken part in. They just needed to push through.

It was as the fighting went on that Lycus noticed it at first. All encompassing as the din of battle was then, he'd felt something all too familiar from below. When it happened again, yet more men had taken notice. Then it happened a third time. And a fourth time. And so on. The sensation grew steadily to the point that the battle itself suspended for a moment.

She was close.

The Polithean forces let up a cry before blindsiding the still bewildered Myrydnans, cutting them down with a newly bolstered ruthlessness. Lycus however, had remained in the backlines still, instead turning himself to watch for her arrival.

As the tremors intensified the sight of her finally broke the horizon. Standing several thousands of feet tall, the Goddess Kara crossed over the mountains themselves, treating them as minor encumbrances. That first step she took into the valley proper sent quakes radiating out towards the armies. Lycus held firm, if only just so. Others, both enemy and ally alike, were caught off guard and tumbled to the ground. The Goddess gave them no reprieve from the rumbling as she began thundering towards them.

Shaken as he was, Lycus was still elated to see her then. There'd been no talk that the Goddess would join the fray, but he was overjoyed at the prospect. Once more he'd be blessed to fight alongside her, only this time in her full divine might, stretching into the very clouds it seemed.

Lycus joined the others in their frenzy, running towards the enemy, even while stumbling from her footfalls. When her long shadow finally stretched over him, Lycus felt the full fervor of serving in her name. He'd cut a man down then turn back to look upon her, as if she might personally pick him out of the thousands and notice his zeal. As if each man slain then were a gift to her. One slashed. He turned to see her in full glory still. A second cut down. Now he needed to crane his neck a bit more. When the third was bleeding out on the ground before him, she was so close that he could only see partially up her legs.

By the time Kara was nearly there, Lycus could see the fear in so many eyes. The enemy turned tail and ran as best they could through the tremors, mortified at the sight of the great Goddess. Lycus rallied the men around him then, feeling his bloodlust rise as he made to cut down the cowards as they ran. But he was cut short. The next booming step staggered him. It was only then that he realized that the Goddess wasn't stopping her march forward.

The shock of the resulting impact sent Lycus to the ground, nearly knocking the wind from the old soldier, but that was far from the worst of it. Only after stumbling back to his feet did he piece together that she had stepped right into their supporting lines, crushing an unfathomable number of her own men in the process.

Why?

It was all he could ask himself, staring dumbstruck at the massive sandal resting there in the middle of so many soldiers. Craning his neck up as far as he could, Lycus could barely even see part way up her shin anymore. It was then he felt her other limb rouse. The air itself yielded to the Goddess' movements, stirring all around him, and growing nearly into a gale when she started to take another step. Her sandal soared overhead after.

Lycus was frozen, only able to watch as the tread moved through the air above with a ponderous might. By the time it finished it hung over large sections of both armies, all the while pelting them with a flurry of stone. Entire chunks of earth fell from the tread and down onto the ranks beneath her, claiming hundreds of lives before the step was even done.

When her heel touched down first, Lycus flashed white seeing the sandal hang there for a moment. He knew what came next, closing his eyes after, not wanting to see the end. The rest of her foot crashed down, instantly silencing thousands and thousands of screaming voices. Lycus felt nothing… Nothing beyond sudden weightlessness and the rush of wind around him. He crashed hard back into the earth shortly after.

He lay motionless a moment, Lycus himself not even believing his own miraculous survival. That's when the white hot pain shot up his body, radiating from his left arm. He tried moving the throbbing limb, only to realize then that the fall must have broken it. And yet, that might be considered very fortunate when compared to so many others.

As he attempted to pick himself up out of the dirt, Lycus coughed at the cloud of dust that still hung overhead from the impact. With the arm that still worked he rubbed tears from his eyes, hoping to get a bearing of the scene around him. It was all a blur until the cloud finally dissipated, and he was met with such a terrible scene.

Bodies were strewn everywhere; some dead, some broken, and others yet such as Lycus managing to crawl to their feet. Rubbing more dust from his stinging eyes, he turned his attention upwards. The sheer enormity of her sandal tread then was such that it stretched as far as he could see in both directions, and stood higher than the city walls he had meant to storm.

He realized then that the only reason he had miraculously survived was dumb luck. Lucky to not find himself crushed under her tread. Lucky to not have broken his neck after being flung in the shockwave of impact. And lucky once more to not have been swallowed whole into the earth by the fissures snaking their way around her sandal then. But why?

Lycus had to ask himself. Had the Goddess even seen them? Surely she didn't, completely unaware that so many of her own faithful lay crushed under her. But what if she had? What could they have done to displease her so that she would callously wipe away so many? They weren't questions he would ever get answers to.

Instead the earth began to tremble beneath him once more as suddenly the sandal tread began to move towards him. Those closer to it rushed to get out of the way as it tore through the earth, dragging right over hundreds more who had survived the previous disaster.

When Lycus attempted to stand his legs merely gave out from under him. The sandal continued on, pushing through the earth and smearing many more survivors beneath it until it was nearly on top of him. From pure desperation alone the old soldier lifted up an arm to stop the onslaught. To his shock, it worked… or at least, the sandal had stopped on its own. His luck had held through once again.

Lycus sat up, his chest feeling heavy from the shock of so many near death experiences in such short order. Looking up past the mound of furrowed earth before him, he saw the sandal that much closer. It dawned on him then that he'd nearly been killed by a mere shift in her stance. What was an unnoticed movement on her part had resulted in the end for hundreds of others like him.

It was while trying to come to grips with that sobering fact that Lycus found himself nearly blinded and deafened without warning. A tortured metal whine pierced the air with a brilliant flash, filling the entire valley with an all encompassing scream. Covering his ears did nothing to make that awful sound any less unbearable. It was all Lycus could do to hunch over there, trying to cower away from the merciless assault on his senses. Before long he could feel a wave of heat hit him there. Through an outstretched hand he opened his eyes as much as he might physically manage, knowing full well what he would see.

The Goddess wrought her terrible judgment upon the city. Her wrath took the form of superheated death that she thoroughly rained down on them with her gaze alone. Lycus could only imagine the horror for those actually in the city. Wherever the beams dragged through the earth, a chorus of unceasing explosions followed. She'd give only brief respites between blasts. Holding them in just long enough that they might think she would finally show mercy, only to vaporize countless more in the next onslaught. Soon enough crimson streaks of lighting arced through the billowing plumes of heavy smog and soot that covered the city.

Lycus merely sat there watching the apocalyptic event unfold. That city the Goddess was so thoroughly annihilating was meant to be her prize. These long months on the campaign, all the battles, all the wear and tear on his body was supposed to lead to glory in her name. He sat there in silence, watching that very same glory go up in hellfire. Before long, Lycus found himself staring directly into the crimson light itself, feeling nothing.