"What? No takers??"
Percival slung taunts at the army of gods by fistfuls. None of them took the bait and kept their distance from him even more than before.
Numerous ancient gods were already dead. Even more were scarred.
"You are all so unbelievably boring. Immortality has made you all soft and inflexible." Percival sighed. "That's why you all need something like me around. To shake you all up and remind you that nothing in nature deserves comfort.
Really, you should thank me. You've all been secluding yourselves in these happy little huts of care and safety. That's why you bastards need something like me to be your salvation.
Joy will not save you. It will coddle you. All of you should thank me for my fear and anxiety, because it is the only thing that will make you strong. Aren't I such a philanthropist? Way better than that other guy you all are so fussy over."
Percival looked down at Shiva's limp body in his grasp.
