Absolute Symbiote Chapter 15: I Am Ares.

Chapter 15: I Am Ares.

(General P.O.V)

The first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, painting Themyscira in pale gold. Thomas was coiled around a thick branch high above the prison, his body shaped into a green snake to blend with the leaves. He had been like that all night, watching Artemis sit by her fire at the entrance to Ares’ cell.

The flames had burned low hours ago, yet she hadn’t moved once. Her spear leaned against her shoulder, her eyes fixed on nothing, but her posture never wavered.

Thomas muttered inwardly, 'Her ass has to be numb by now. Does she not feel pain like the rest of us?'

Boredom gnawed at him. He considered creating a distraction, something subtle to draw her attention away from the entrance long enough for him to slip past. The plan had potential. But before he could test it, a pulse ran down the tether he shared with the baby. Someone was in his tower room.

His heart lurched.

'Please let it be Diana.' But just in case it wasn't...

With one last regretful glance at Artemis, he slipped from the branch. Scales tore from flesh as his snake form unraveled into wings. A bat shot across the breaking dawn, racing back toward the tower.

He squeezed through the open window, hit the floor, and shifted back into his human form in the same motion.

The baby was there on the bed, giggling and burping, tiny red tendrils with thorny edges swaying lazily from its back like playful ribbons. Its expression was mischievous, what Thomas immediately called its “naughty face.”

His gut sank. “Oh, no…”

The air smelled wrong. He followed the scent to the corner. Two piles of ash, faintly smoldering. A pair of weapons. Torn scraps of cloth.

And after a brief moment of reading the baby's memories, he discovered that the remains were of Izah and Ursa.

Thomas sucked air through his teeth, staring. “You killed them before you even learned how to walk.”

The baby only cooed, innocent in its own monstrous way.

Conflicted, he crouched low. “You little freak.” Then, after a beat, he extended a fist. “But… good riddance.”

The baby gurgled, smacking its tiny hand against his fist.

Thomas spat on the ashes like the petty bastard he was.

"Gotta get rid of the evidence."

Straightening, he gathered the remains with a sweep of telekinesis. The ash, the clothes, the weapons all scraped together in a heap—except for a glint that caught his eye.

A ring, silver, carved with a stylized A floated to him. He turned it in his hand, frowning. The 'A' was familiar. He couldn’t recall where he had seen the shape before, but the recognition itched.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Too many. Too fast.

“Shit.”

He had only a second to knock the baby to sleep and reapply the veil of illusion, the soft snores anchoring the mental compulsion, before the door burst open.

Agatha strode in at the head of a squad of guards. Her eyes landed on the ring in his hand.

“There,” she declared, voice full of venom. “Proof enough. By the will of the Gods, the murderer is caught.”

The guards fanned out, weapons ready.

Thomas said nothing. The timing was too perfect. Too convenient. He couldn’t read their minds, which meant this had been arranged. Izah and Ursa weren’t victims—they were bait.

Agatha’s lips twisted in triumph. “How fitting. You stole what belonged to the Gods. And now, you will be sacrificed in its place.”

She didn’t know about the baby—couldn’t prove it—but the gloating in her voice told Thomas she suspected.

He forced his face into stillness and stayed silent. A fight here would risk exposing the child. Better to play along.

Chains wrapped around his wrists, heavy with divine seals. His powers dulled the instant they locked into place.

Agatha’s orders were crisp. “Artemis will take him. He is to be confined in the empty cell beside the God of War. The divine wards will hold him.”

Thomas almost smiled as Artemis appeared through the guards. Imprisonment beside Ares. Exactly where he needed to be.

Agatha turned to leave. “The Council will be convened for trial.”

But before she could close her trap, the window burst with rushing wind.

Diana landed, eyes blazing. “You don’t have the authority to summon the Council, Agatha.”

The priestess snickered. “Still protecting him? Even now? When he has murdered our sisters?”

“Where is the proof?” Diana shot back.

Agatha gestured to the floor. “You are standing in it. Ashes.”

For a heartbeat, Diana froze. The weight of it hit her, but she didn’t falter. Her gaze cut to Thomas. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Thomas gave her a rueful smile. “I’m sorry for the trouble Princess. But it was self-defense. You don’t need to use the Lasso. I admit it.”

Agatha sneered. “Take him away.”

Diana stepped forward, but Artemis blocked her path, spear in hand.

“This stinks, Artemis,” Diana said, her voice sharp.

Artemis’ eyes softened, just slightly. “I’m sorry, Princess Diana. But even for your guest, the laws hold.”

Diana’s jaw tightened, fury flashing across her face. She turned back to Agatha, voice like steel. “If anything happens to him before his trial, I’ll shove my fist down your throat.”

The chamber fell silent.

Agatha only smiled thinly as Diana threw a final frown at Thomas before flying away.

"Soon...you will understand my princess...I promise." Agatha cryptically whispered with a strange eye glint that rubbed Thomas the wrong way.

The chains were heavy, their weight not just physical but pressing on Thomas’s mind, numbing the sharp edges of his thoughts. He walked in silence between the guards, Artemis at the head of the procession, the sound of boots and armor clanging against the stone corridors filling the space.

None of them spoke at first. The Amazons’ stares were sharp, suspicious, but disciplined. They kept their distance, weapons at the ready, as though he might burst free at any second.

Artemis finally broke the quiet. “You’re unusually quiet for once. No wise cracks. No muttering. Why?”

Thomas tilted his head, eyes half-lidded. “I’m too sleepy. Spent all night killing Amazons, you know how it is.”

That earned him several hostile glares. One of the guards behind him hissed a curse.

Artemis’s expression didn’t change, but her tone sharpened. “You don’t seem apologetic.”

“Apologetic?” Thomas gave a tired shrug, the chains clinking against his wrists. “Izah and Ursa were bitches to me.”

“They were bitches to everyone,” Artemis replied flatly.

That almost drew a smile from him, though he let it fade quickly.

They continued down the corridor until the stairway sloped into colder, older stone. The air grew heavier the deeper they went, each step echoing as if swallowed by the walls.

When they reached the prison, Artemis halted before the barred doors and turned. Her eyes fixed on him, hard but thoughtful. “I know you didn’t do it. You were watching me all night.”

That made him blink. He hadn’t expected her to say it out loud.

Recovering quickly, he smirked. “I wasn’t watching you. I was admiring the view. You just happened to be in the way.”

The guards shifted uncomfortably at the remark, but Artemis didn’t bite. Instead, she pulled a key from her belt and moved to the cell door.

The chains sealing his powers came off first, falling with a dull clatter against the stone floor. Thomas rubbed his wrists, feeling the stiffness fade.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Not afraid I’ll use my powers and make a run for it?”

Artemis’s response was curt. “Don’t. Stay out of your own way.” She glanced at him, her face unreadable. “You should have left the Island the moment you realized you weren’t wanted.”

Thomas chuckled under his breath, not bitter, just tired. “Believe it or not, this was the only place I was safe. At least until now.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly at that, though she didn’t comment. She shoved him into the cell. The door slammed shut with a reverberating clang.

Instantly, lines of divine wards lit up across the stone walls, bright sigils pulsing before sinking back into the rock. The surge hit him like a tidal wave, robbing his strength, pressing down on his chest.

He stumbled, gasping. His body trembled under the weight of the magic.

Then, from the darkness of the adjacent cell, a voice spoke. Amused. Harsh. Male.

“Get ready.”

Before Thomas could react, a violent nausea ripped through him. He doubled over, heaving until bile splattered against the floor.

The laughter came next—deep, cruel, echoing from the shadows.

“Welcome,” the voice said, dripping with mocking delight. “To the Amazons’ idea of a fun getaway resort. I'm Ares and who might you be friend?”