The Raven was not the only thing the Sun God feared.
The Raven was also what Zeus feared.
Of course.
Though he could empathize with the Sun God, Zeus still found it humiliating to admit it himself. Even though he had already compromised inwardly,
he still had to keep up appearances.
Lightning flowed beneath their feet, while the stars watched silently from afar.
"Do not challenge my authority."
Made paranoid by Kratos and the prophecy of Ragnarok, Zeus gripped the Sun God tightly and leaned close, his glowing white eyes fixed on him as he issued a low warning.
At that,
the Sun God felt somewhat intimidated, but he still spoke up to remind him.
"You know him. He never truly leaves." The Sun God's voice was nearly a whisper. "If we slaughter these mortals, he will seize the chance to fly back."
"And this time, we do not even know what he wants. He may use this opportunity to attack us again. Perhaps those civilians are merely tools he is using to bait us into giving him a reason to strike."
It had to be said,
the Sun God's analysis struck right at Zeus's paranoia.
His concern was Zeus's concern as well.
Silence spread between the God-King and the Sun God. In the distance, the surviving humans helped one another to their feet. Some began using rubble to build temporary shelters, while others wiped down short swords found on corpses—there were no prayers, no cries, only a silent resolve unfamiliar to the gods.
"You are right. We cannot let the Raven have his way."
Perhaps after weighing it in his heart for a long time and finding himself an excuse to back down, Zeus finally loosened his fingers one by one. The phantom image of the Sword of Olympus