Thanos is a scary monster. A huge Orc.

And I’m his treat.

His fame is well known.

He lives for war. Women. And ale.

His clan has conquered the humans in my bunker.

He has chosen me to attend to him.

In this shattered world, women are commodities to be used, bartered with, and fought over.

Just like grains or meat.

I am his property. But he doesn’t know that I’m from the human resistance and I have a secret mission.

It is to assassinate this savage Orc.

I’m going to do it for my father, who died by their hand. For the women who have been treated as playthings. For the human race as a whole. I can do this. I can kill him.

No matter how well he treats me, I must kill him.

Even if he shows me kindness and love.

I must carry out my mission!

But then, why do I lay on Thanos and not feel hate for this Orc?

Why do I instead only feel love?

Chapter 1

Thanos

 The sun creeps over the horizon, along the vine-covered buildings and up into the sky. Though I have been on this planet for decades it is still a sight I never tire of. But today I have greater things on my mind.

The long, low sound of the battle horn travels across the ruins of this once-great city. It is a place that I have come to love, my admiration for the architecture never waning. It is one of the only things that I envy about humans.

Now it is our stronghold, and we have made it our home. The grand buildings with their sturdy, stone walls providing shelter that is beyond protection from the elements. These buildings speak of power and ingenuity. It is a place that is worthy of the War God Clan.

I hold my hammer up and see the glint of the morning rays on its pristine head. This is my weapon of choice. This morning I accept the challenge of Gonar, Chieftain of the Frenzied Clan, and as Thanos, Chieftain of the War God Clan, I have every intention of winning.

We are the biggest clan there is—warriors known and feared by every orc out there, and the first to arrive on this planet. Some say that the reason we are so great is because of our devotion to our War God, and that of course holds much truth. But we fight hard and play hard, and that also has a hand in our success.

“It is almost time, Thanos,” says the familiar voice behind me.

I turn to Valskor, my friend and second in command. “And I am ready. We leave shortly.” The look on his face is serious. “Come now, old friend. Why the stern face? I will be back drinking ale and seducing women before the sun barely has chance to move across the sky.”

He smiles at me, an eyebrow raised. “Like it could be any other way.”

I clap him on the back. “It will never be any other way, as long as there is breath in this body.”

“And I have certainly come to know that,” he says, shaking his head.

“If you cannot keep up it is not your fault. I am the leader after all, and there is plenty here that the women like to work with,” I tease, throwing my hands up. “But there are plenty of women to go around, even if the ale supplies can get too low on times.”

“Maybe we should concentrate on the task at hand,” says Valskor.

My mood changes, my voice becoming more forceful. “The task at hand belongs to me, Valskor, and I am more than ready for it.” I look at him with narrowed eyes, my nostrils flaring. “I am the Chieftain of the War God Clan, and I am always ready for battle.”

“Of course, Chief, my apologies,” says Valskor, bowing his head. He takes a step backwards as a further mark of submission.

Though I do not wish to chastise him unnecessarily, when it comes to my rank I must always be ready to defend it and stake my claim. Not that I have to do this often amongst my people. The clan comes first—they know this.

I have fought hard for them, and as such have gained their trust, respect and admiration. And if this extends to the females who offer themselves willingly, then I am more than happy to oblige.

Because I am Thanos, and war, women and ale are what I live for.

I look at him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to fear, I will do what I need to do—what I am made to do—and I will return. This I am sure of.”

“Of course,” he says, raising his head and looking up at me. Though he is tall and strong, I still tower above him as I do everyone else in this clan. “I do this for my God and for my clan.”

“As you always do, Chief.”

“Well, it’s not all wine and women,” I say, returning to my more jubilant self. “But they certainly help.”

Though I joke, I am more than aware of the task ahead. This is one more battle that I will fight for my clan. Our neighboring enemies, the Frenzied Clan have requested a warrior challenge—the only way to settle a dispute without entering all-out war.

There are other strong and hostile clans with their attentions on us. We need to keep up our strength and not risk losing much-needed warriors. Only one person needs to die today.

We fight for supplies and women—a human settlement that both of our clans recently discovered between our borders. This is my type of fight, and though pride and glory are always motivation enough, there is certainly plenty to gain from this win.

Human settlements do not come along often. When the orcs arrived through the Rift following the persecution of the Elves, many of the humans fell at our hands. The rest fled, many underground in bunkers that keep them hidden and isolated.

Now it is rival clans that are the biggest threats to us orcs. We are a race made for battle and conquest. We fight not just for spoils, but because it is what we are made of.

It is not known how many humans are left now. As a clan we have had little to do with them. Which is why I am determined to win this fight.

I have often wondered about that species. What drives them. How they came to make such a plentiful world. The technologies, scientific advances and feats of engineering. They are puny and weak but are capable of things far greater than we in many respects.

But these are not things I would say openly. It is not the orc way to admit weakness of any kind. Though I cannot help but wonder what could happen if our skills and assets were combined.

As I gather my remaining weapons—two small daggers and my iron gloves—I wonder what I will find among the humans today. And, of course, I wonder about their women. They will be ours by the end of the day—of this I am sure.

But I do not expect it to be easy.

The Frenzied Clan are aptly named. Less strategic than many clans, this is a group of orcs that are wild for the fight—battle running in their blood and burned into their bones. It is my job to know my enemy, and I understand the nature of their clan. I will be ready.

“Gather the men,” I say. “I will address them now, and we will march to the place of battle.”

“Yes, Chief,” Valskor says, before giving another bow of his head and leaving me.

         Before we march, I will pay my respects to the War God of my people. This is my way. My strength and determination will win me the battle.  And the War God will ensure that this clan will always be made of the best warriors, with the most feared and respected reputation.

This battle is ours. The spoils are ours. The glory is ours.

We are the War God Clan, and I am Thanos, their leader. This will always be our way, until the day I am no longer drawing breath.

But that day will not be today.