Inevitably, all mortals must die. They cling to life with fevered desperation, for death is a cold unknown, filled with uncertainty and bleak, everlasting finality. Some accept fate with grace, others are dragged, kicking and screaming, though in truth, no mortal would go to Hades willingly. They are reaped by the nightmarish God of Death, whose grim visage strikes strange against the gleeful satisfaction he feels at performing his work. Thanatos is the very face of death.
Yet, to Thanatos, Mortals are easy prey. Their end is preordained, harvesting them but a game to pass the eons, but a God, a being beyond the mortal coil, now there is a creature Thanatos eyes with greedy longing. He despises the immortality other Gods covet. To him, it is a perversion and defiance of his very purpose.
But can a God truly die? As the Heavens clash and immortal blood spills on the Earth, Thanatos hungers to find out. War is but the preamble to death, a battlefield of souls rent from their bodies, listlessly waiting to be taken by the God of Death. A war between Gods, a war of this magnitude can mean only one thing. Thanatos is about to be very, very busy.