The clash of blades echoed throughout the ivory tower resting above the heavens. At speeds that easily transcended mortals, the two gods' strikes echoed like thunder. While they initially fought as equals, the one clothed in white was gradually overpowering the one in black.

Finally breaking through the defense of the black-robe, the white-robe found an opening and sliced off his sword-bearing hand. Before it fell to the floor, the white robe caught the falling sword and, in rhythm, pierced its owner through the chest. 

"You don't know the consequences of what you are doing," the dying god grunted as he clasped his hand around the sword buried in his chest.

"What of it? Why would I care?" A deep voice responded. "You appear in my domain and you dare talk of peace? We were eternally bound to shed each other's blood the moment you dared to stand in my way."

The black robed god dragged himself to the edge of the tower that looked down from the Heavens, leaving streaks of black ichor that stained the cold marble floor.

The unscathed god approached the dying one. "You should feel fortunate that you are already on the brink of death Bel, this is the easiest death I could have given you."

The black robed god began laughing at the thought of his own death. "In death, I find solace and comfort! I cannot say the same goes for you, Tyros. Even your own allies stare at you with hungry eyes."

"None of that matters now," -Tyros pricked Bel's neck with the tip of his sword- "Your death will be the tipping point of this war as I now take what is rightfully mine."

Before Tyros could take his prize, the dying god pushed himself off the edge of the tower, falling from the heavens. The loud cries of Tyros boomed echoed throughout the heavens as he saw his prize slip through his grasp. He watched as the body was swept away in the current of a passing meteor shower streaking towards Earth.

Tyros' cries turned into a manic laugh. "It is only right that the end takes place where it all began."