Greek Gods and The Bubbly Grind

Smoke rises and thunder bellows at the gates of Hades. His quest has finally reached an end. A warrior of the Gods he was, tricked into insanity and bloodlust. The fumes come out from under the gate, rendered white in a pixilated hue. He grips his swords tighter. A drop of sweat falls of from his palm and disappears onto the floor. He is a Demi-God standing on the edges of the underworld seeking retribution, seeking answers. At the Gate of the Underworld he seeks his end.
A distance voice seems to beckon him. Voice of a lover, a companion but he pays no heed to it. He wields weapons worthy of the Gods, and to be distracted by such worldly affairs would be like accepting defeat. His quest is much more important, so he steels himself against the coming danger, the last challenge he would have face. He steels himself against death.
His clenches his hands, tightens his grip around his sword and shield. That distance voice calls for him again. “Bugger off!” he tells that voice, “half-mad Demi-Gods do not yield to worldly things.
His nemesis arrives right on time, Ares, a God personified as a monster, the Guardian of the gates of Hades, one that would intimidate mortals and immortals alike. But nay, not him, unfazed he marches on swinging his swords and then lashing out at him from all sides, dodging the monster blows, piercing its side. Mountains are hurled at him, he dodges them. And he rises once again, pierce Ares’ side. But victory is never easy is it, Ares lashes out and gets him right across the forehead, his helmet falls off. The monster swings it sword again and connects sweetly across his chest. Not only does his armour wear off but also for the first time his blood spills. He moves away tries to gather strength and sanity. It is then that he realizes that he just has one blow left to finish the monster and the monster needs one blow to finish him. The monster charges, his palms are sweating now, any second now it would all be over. He lifts his sword, the monster leaps in the air to attack.

“Hey! Bubbly! Oh Yeah Bubbly! Be my lover Bubbly!” The cellphone rings. Its her, its always her.
He lies there blood spilling profusely from his guts.
“Restart game from the last checkpoint. Yes/ No.”
The joystick is hurled to the floor. He gets up from the couch, picks up the phone and screams, “You bitch!” into it and hurls it at the window. The recently purchased K-700I splits into two in mid-air. The battery hits the window pane and shatters the glass. The rest of the cellphone goes flying out the window and into a world of lesser mortals and scavenging mongrels.