Slade

War Mongerer. That's my purpose in the universe, a purpose that can never be misconstrued or forgotten. It is inherent in me.

Killing humans. Driving them to war. Spurring their bloodshed, watching them writhing, crying, dying.

But it is my purpose. So I feel nothing.

Elongating humans with their base desires to keep balance in this universe is my purpose in existence.

I have no other. Watching them bleeding, dying, screaming, crying. Begging me for mercy.

Crying for their children. These are my duties.

And I feel nothing. They deserve it. Inherently, because their existence is a plague, a rot. They're not like any other species. They spread they are malignant, a disease.

They kill and they maim, and they destroy everywhere they touch.

So I feel nothing.

Monika stares at the courtyard listlessly. She doesn't cry. I wonder why. I don't want to see her cry. But at this point; anything would be better than this blank expression on her face.

She feels nothing. Her fingers caress the lip of her cup. The sounds of the war are already reaching the temple. Screams echo even here.

It will get worse.

I will get stronger. She had a flawless plan and she carried it out. Within a few short days of the announcement that Rose, a Queen candidate hailing from the kingdom of Florence assassinated the King and disappeared, Provile declared war.

The rest of the world was forced to take sides.

It is the First World War in the history of humanity. Even the Great War was not so devastating. I'm proud in a twisted way.

But now...

"Will you drink it," I offer. She glanced back at me, her brown skin lacking its luminosity.

She shakes her head. "Let's play our game."

I sigh, sitting down. Yes. Our game. Something I thought would upset her. Put some type of expression on her face.

It's done the opposite.

"Florence pulls out of the war."

She taps her fingers. "They lose their territories. Divvied up between Provile and Janie. Anyone who looks like me will probably be oppressed."

I nod. "Provile wins."

She scoffed. "Takes territory in every country. Occupies them. Oppress the people. Levies heavy taxes. A revolt in...100 years?"

She's right. She's always right. A goddess of war is what she is now.

And like me, she feels nothing.

I stare at the cup. "You don't have to torture yourself with this, little wife."

She looks at me. Her eyes soften a bit. I usually feel nothing for humans. It is something that comes along with my purpose.

But it's not the same for her. Not for her.

"Yes...I must. It's my duty," she murmurs. "It's my debt."

I love her. I wish I had understood what this would do to her. I would've never let her do it. I'm back, but she's gone, and now we're both broken, unable to fulfill our purposes.

I'm stronger than I've ever been. She is too. In a different way.

I press my forehead against hers. Her brown eyes look up at me, her curly hair frames her face, her eyes searching mine looking for something.

Absolution I suppose.

But I'm not that type of god. I don't have it to give. I have bloodshed. I have pride in my wife who's plunged the entire world in blood, better than even me.

But I don't have the benevolence she seeks from me. But I close my eyes, press closer, and pretend I do. Because she needs it.

She's changed so much. I barely recognize her. Her laughter is a memory. Her smile. The hope in her eyes.

Every day, I give her a little of my power. She dies a little every day. I reverse it every day. I don't think she notices.

I've never had to help a human before. I tried with Dion. I failed him. I can't fail her. I cup her face. She leans into my touch. She always does.

My chest tries to contract. Trying to imitate this human form. It's an odd feeling.

"Monika," I whisper.

She looks at me. I kiss her gently. Her lips turn up ever so gently. I kiss her forehead. The corner of her lips.

They turn up a bit more.

There she is. She's beautiful. So beautiful. This body tries to grow a heart to beat for her.

I smile. "You know...what you did?"

She nods, her smile disappearing. I curse myself a bit.

"You only did that, because when I left all my energy went into you. It was me. It wasn't you, Monika. It was me."

Is it true? No. No, it's not. But if I can make her believe it, maybe...she can forgive herself. She's only human after all.

Humans are fragile beings.

Her eyes widened a bit. She comes closer to me, clutching my hand. "You're saying...because you weren't there, because we're bonded, I had to become a god of war temporarily?"

I nod. I let her spin the story her heart needs to be at ease. In a sense, that's what I do. I let humans tell themselves what they want to hear by proxy.

Your family will betray you, kill them first.

Your line will die with you, so you must make an impact.

You are better than those humans, subjugate them.

I don't share these thoughts or feelings. My name gives way to a release of desires they already have.

An excuse.

She needs an excuse. A monster in the dark. Someone to take responsibility.

I am her husband. I am that monster. I am responsible.

"Because the universe wouldn't be balanced right?" She looks at me hopefully.

I nod with a soft smile. "Yes. So don't worry. It was just me. Slade, god of war performing his duties through you."

She leans in. Won't that make her hate me though? I'm not sure. I really hope not. I don't think...I could stand it if she did.

Let her out if my sight? I just couldn't.

But I would rather her hate me than herself. I'm used to being the bad guy.

"That makes perfect sense," she sighs. "Your work is very important."

Yes. It's fine if it's me. She doesn't mind, for some reason what I am. As long as her hands do not stain with blood.

It's understandable. She's human, after all.

All that matters is she presses her forehead against mine, nuzzling my nose with hers. She holds my face, and when we're this close I can count her breaths and make sure she doesn't miss any.