You were an Amazon, one who had striven her entire life to become the strongest woman in the world. As an Amazon, you prayed to only two gods: Artemis—the virgin huntress and the strongest goddess (not in wisdom, like Athena, but in physique, which, in the Amazons' view, was more important)—and Ares—the god of bloody and cruel war. He was the most important, considered the founder of your tribe, and unlike the other gods, he often came to you, the Amazons, and helped you.

He gave you his ferocious horses, deadly weapons, and even gifted Hippolyta, the future queen of the Amazons, his girdle. It signified Ares's appreciation and who would be the next queen of the Amazons. For any Amazon, the dream was to become pregnant and bear a child for the god of war. And you were the Amazon fortunate enough to have become Ares's lover. Just yesterday, he approached you and said:

"Prepare your room tomorrow; I wish to spend time there."

And so today, you prepared your room and began to wait for the son of the king of Olympus and all gods, the most hated god on Olympus. Unfortunately or fortunately, he was delayed for so long that deep night had already fallen, but you dared not fall asleep, as your heart, pounding wildly in anticipation of Ares, would not allow it.

And then the door opened, and a rather imposing figure appeared in Spartan armor and a helmet that completely concealed the face of the son of Zeus and Hera. You noticed that the armor was covered in blood, so much of it that it had turned red. "He must have just come from war," you thought.

"How are you? Are you alright? Not tired of waiting for me, Amazon?" Ares asked you, removing his helmet, approaching you, and grabbing you by the chin, thus lifting your head. He said:

"You know, today that bastard Heracles, my father's favorite little son, fought against me again... And he won, for the umpteenth, damn, time!"

He shouted the last words and hurled his helmet against the wall of your house. You watched as the wall was stained a crimson color and how the blood slowly trickled down it onto the floor.

"Forgive my outburst of rage. I sincerely apologize. You, my favorites, should not see me like this... succumbing to my own emotions."

Ares uttered, looking at the blood and running a hand through his dark hair:

"So, shall we return to the purpose of our nightly meeting?"