The first thing he feels is pain.
Pain like fire, pain like acid has been poured into each stab and slash he received at Ares' hands. He's bruised and battered, having taken injuries that would have slain a mortal many times over. Despite the time that has passed, the wounds are only barely crusted over.
Next comes confusion.
The world has gone mad around him. He can feel something covering him, something cold and sticky, with bits of fur and flesh. Brambles and vines surround him, the thorns biting into already battered flesh.
Rage stirs in him. It's unfocused, undirected, and all-consuming. The desire to smash, destroy... something. To kill whatever it is that is hurting him, to obliterate who or whatever it was that - his memory spins away; whatever the crime was, the knowledge of it is lost to him now. But a crime was committed, and the wrongdoer must pay.
He wants. There's something he requires. Lost in the confusion of the chaos storm, his mind dazzled, he can't remember what it is. But he must have it, and must have it now.
His eyes open, and he tears himself free of the entangling underbrush. He lurches to his feet, clothes ragged, his body coated with torn vines, animal parts, and blood. He doesn't know where he is, but he can feel the power tearing around him.
He heads for its center, making his way through the ruins of the temple.