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CoinbaseNFT Avatar: #00073 Ares – The Forsaken Warrior
Ares – The Forsaken Warrior
The gods of Olympus rejoiced when radiant Apollo drew his bow, when Poseidon made the seas tremble, and when Athena guided mortals with her wisdom. But when Ares, the son of Zeus and Hera, raised his sword, they stepped back. He was no hero, no strategist he was the unleashed fury of the battlefield. His strength lay not in cunning or diplomacy but in chaos, bloodshed and the relentless drum of war.
Ares was not loved. Not by his father, who saw him as reckless destruction. Not by mortals, who perished in his wars. And not even by the gods, who feared his raw, untamed violence. Only Aphrodite, the goddess of love, saw beyond the armor of rage and recognized the heart of a warrior who knew nothing but battle.
The Curse of War
Once, Ares walked among mortals himself. It was an age when the kingdoms of Greece drowned in bloody battles. He crossed the burning fields, heard the desperate cries of the wounded and felt the trembling of men who knew they were doomed. But in their eyes, he saw not only fear he saw courage. He saw those who fought not out of hatred but to protect what they loved.
Yet his name was not honored. Poets sang of Achilles, of Odysseus, of those who triumphed through cunning or valor. But who sang of the god who inspired them all? Who sang of Ares, who fell with them, rose with them, bled with them?
Rage grew within him, a storm that could not be calmed. He became a curse, a name whispered by mothers warning their children to tread carefully.
The God No One Wanted
Even among the gods, he was an outsider. Zeus rebuked him: “You are nothing but destruction, Ares. Your war brings us only shame.” Athena mocked him: “You fight with rage but without wisdom. That is your greatest failure.” And even Aphrodite, who loved him, could not always bear his darkness.
But when the Titans returned and the heavens burned, when even Zeus could not hurl his thunderbolts fast enough and Hades’ shadows swallowed the land, it was Ares who did not hesitate.
With his blood-red spear, he threw himself into the flames, asking for no strategy and seeking no victory. He did not fight for honor, nor for glory he fought because he knew no one else would. He was the god no one wanted, but in that moment, he was the god they all needed.
The Eternal Battle
The Titans were defeated, yet Ares remained an outcast. No songs were sung for him, no temples were raised in his name like those of Apollo or Athena.
And yet, he fought on. Not for recognition. Not for glory. But because war never ends and as long as there are mortals who fight for their lives, their freedom, their love, Ares will march with them on the battlefield.
He is the first cry of a newborn in a world of danger. He is the last breath of a soldier who falls for his people. He is the unyielding force that pushes forward despite everything.
He is Ares.
The gods of Olympus rejoiced when radiant Apollo drew his bow, when Poseidon made the seas tremble, and when Athena guided mortals with her wisdom. But when Ares, the son of Zeus and Hera, raised his sword, they stepped back. He was no hero, no strategist he was the unleashed fury of the battlefield. His strength lay not in cunning or diplomacy but in chaos, bloodshed and the relentless drum of war.
Ares was not loved. Not by his father, who saw him as reckless destruction. Not by mortals, who perished in his wars. And not even by the gods, who feared his raw, untamed violence. Only Aphrodite, the goddess of love, saw beyond the armor of rage and recognized the heart of a warrior who knew nothing but battle.
The Curse of War
Once, Ares walked among mortals himself. It was an age when the kingdoms of Greece drowned in bloody battles. He crossed the burning fields, heard the desperate cries of the wounded and felt the trembling of men who knew they were doomed. But in their eyes, he saw not only fear he saw courage. He saw those who fought not out of hatred but to protect what they loved.
Yet his name was not honored. Poets sang of Achilles, of Odysseus, of those who triumphed through cunning or valor. But who sang of the god who inspired them all? Who sang of Ares, who fell with them, rose with them, bled with them?
Rage grew within him, a storm that could not be calmed. He became a curse, a name whispered by mothers warning their children to tread carefully.
The God No One Wanted
Even among the gods, he was an outsider. Zeus rebuked him: “You are nothing but destruction, Ares. Your war brings us only shame.” Athena mocked him: “You fight with rage but without wisdom. That is your greatest failure.” And even Aphrodite, who loved him, could not always bear his darkness.
But when the Titans returned and the heavens burned, when even Zeus could not hurl his thunderbolts fast enough and Hades’ shadows swallowed the land, it was Ares who did not hesitate.
With his blood-red spear, he threw himself into the flames, asking for no strategy and seeking no victory. He did not fight for honor, nor for glory he fought because he knew no one else would. He was the god no one wanted, but in that moment, he was the god they all needed.
The Eternal Battle
The Titans were defeated, yet Ares remained an outcast. No songs were sung for him, no temples were raised in his name like those of Apollo or Athena.
And yet, he fought on. Not for recognition. Not for glory. But because war never ends and as long as there are mortals who fight for their lives, their freedom, their love, Ares will march with them on the battlefield.
He is the first cry of a newborn in a world of danger. He is the last breath of a soldier who falls for his people. He is the unyielding force that pushes forward despite everything.
He is Ares.