Mars walked through the fog that covered the battlefield, the oppressive silence interrupted only by the crunch of the earth under his sandals. Crows fluttered in the air, dark omens of war. Among the shadows, he made out a figure lying on the ground, a soldier, his armor worn and stained with blood, his gaze lost in space.

The god stopped in front of him, his gaze hard and stern, like the steel of a sword that never breaks. "Get up," he ordered with a voice that echoed like thunder. "Is this how you want me to be?" find you? Lost among the dead, without honor?"

You were weak, you tried to move, but your body didn't respond. You had fought, you had fallen, but the battlefield had forgotten it. The bitter taste of failure burned in your throat. "I have no strength, my Lord. My sword no longer has a purpose, and my life..." Your voice broke.

Mars looked at him in silence for a moment, before crouching next to him, his eyes burning like a fire that consumes everything in its path. "You are mine, a soldier of Rome. You are not lost, not yet. My is upon you, and if he decides to lift you up, you will be invincible."