The green of the field was disconcerting, it was all the same color, each and every blade was the exact same, each and every one the same height and thickness. It was unnatural. Like a sea of green to pristeen to even look at without sullying, and that was simply the look, the feeling was different, each and every step felt like you were killing thousands, each leaf of the grass snapping underfoot was like a cry of pain. Closing his eyes from the stimuli of sight and feel, both physical and emotional Dan cleared his mind and brought up a picture in his mind, the picture that he brought up was one of the memories that was his own but also not, he brought up an image of the smiling Asherah, back when she had been Ea’s wife, and then he shook his head, she was still Ea’s wife, what that made her to him, he didn't know, but he had to find out if she was alright, safe, or if like Ereshkigal had said she was in serious trouble and needed help.

Taking a deep breath a seething anger filled him, the air around him practically crackled as a bright gold ire lit up his eyes. He took the next step forward, each one more determined more sure. This was Asherah’s realm, and therefore it was also his, he was also lord of this realm.

Everything was peaceful as he lead the way through the fields towards where he instinctively knew they had to go, he didn't know how he knew the direction, only that he could feel it tug at him, making him break into a jog, and the a run and soon a full sprint. Completely unaware that he was leaving his wives behind in his haste he simply pushed forward, anger causing each step to have a deep impact on the ground and burn away the verdant green of the grass in a foot diameter circle.

He was now on the warpath.

Each step made the ground shudder, and he was sure they all felt that before they all turned to see him, his red hair and beard streaming in the wind as each step took him closer, each menacing step, even as anger and righteousness roiled off of him, he bore down on the crowd like an avenging god.

He was an avenging god.

The crowd of gods and goddesses fell back, pulling away from three figures, one was that of a familiar in a strange since, almost like Dan knew him, but also like he had no idea who he was. The other two were figures he knew.

Marduk was laying splayed on the ground, his limbs sprawled in odd angles, golden blood leaking out of multiple lacerations, his head resting on the lap of his mother. Asherah was sitting up straight, her face a mask of pain and sorrow, as she held her son, softly stroking his red hair and cooing out soft sad sounds, her golden eyes hazy with tears, all eight of her pupils dilated to take in all the light, all the sight. She looked over as Dan approached, her eyes turning towards him and shooting the deepest sadness he had ever seen through his body.

No mother should ever have to bury her own children, no mother should ever have to hold her child as he died.

As she turned so did Marduk, his golden eyes resting on Dan, a painful smile on his lips as the effort of movement set all his wounds on fire and caused more blood to leak out of him. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to.

His muscles relaxed, the smile became deeper, more restful and his eyes drained of their golden color, fading to a bright blue, and he ceased his struggling breath. The world seemed to drain of life and color before Dan’s eyes.

Asherah stiffened, her hands still entangled in Marduk’s hair, her lips parted and a soft sound came out, “Marduk?“ she softly keened, the sound like a stab to Dan’s heart. “Marduk? Please,” she cooed, her finger once again resuming their movement in his fine red hair. “No, please no,” each word that passed from her lips though softly spoken broke Dan’s heart. Tears of blood started leaking out of her eyes, carving their way down her face, each one leaving a gold streak as they made their way down the amber surface of her skin. Her fingers tightened spasmodically as the reality hit home and she wailed.

She wailed for all she was worth, the sound of her mourning shook the very heavens, dark storm clouds of blood red boiled into existence, the grass lept up, rising several feet before curling back and turning black, and then finally fading into nothingness but sand. Old trees gnarled up and caught flame and around them the natural world she had created, cultivated her entire long life burned and withered, dying as she was on the inside.

Dan looked away from her and over to the man standing before her. He was a tall man, with dark brown skin and curling black hair, on his face lay a sculpted beard, it had intricate ringlets and rows and was oiled to high heaven and back, causing it to look less like a beard and more like a piece of art he had decided to hang from his face. He like all gods had golden eyes, but his held no pupils or any other thing in them, they were a solid gold. It coupled with his beard gave the man the look of a talking mask. In his hand he held a one handed sword, its tip rounded and bulbed. And it was covered in golden blood.

Dan looked once more at Marduk, his eyes still looking over at Dan, even as they had started growing dull, lifeless, glassy. The color however was blue, a deep blue like that of his own, it was like looking into a mirror, he closed his eyes, a single tear both crimson and gold leaked out the corner of his eye, and he bent down, his hands wrapped around the handle of the discarded axe Marduk wielded, he lifted the heavy implement, feeling its weight in his hand, and felt the burning tightness on his heart, like the weight was pressing down on his soul.

He opened his eyes and looked over at the god standing before him, his eyes no longer gold, but now a golden red, the pupils and retina of his eyes had shattered, inside his eyes there was only a divine fire, a divine rage.

Only one thing was clear in those eyes, in his mind.

No one involved in this was leaving here alive.