The divine army pulled back, a tide of power receding, leaving Zeus alone on the vast, glassy plain. The silence they left behind was deeper than before, broken only by the faint, hungry whispers of the Watchers' wings.
Samjaza watched the retreating gods with mild interest, then turned his grey eyes back to the solitary figure before him.
"You believe you can handle all of us by yourself?" Samjaza asked, his voice devoid of mockery, simply stating a fact he found curious. "That is... statistically improbable."
Zeus didn't answer immediately. He rolled his neck, a series of satisfying pops echoing in the stillness. He stretched his arms out to his sides, fingers flexing as if shaking off a long sleep. The air around him began to warp, shimmering with heat.
"You know," Zeus said, his voice conversational, "looking at this, it really seems like an unfair fight."
