Athena's hand stopped mid-motion over the scroll. She didn't look up. She didn't need to. The presence that had just crossed her threshold was familiar in ways that made her jaw tighten and her fingers curl slightly against the parchment.
"You could have made an appointment," she said. "Before barging into my home."
A chuckle. Low. Dry. The kind of sound that had been sharpened by centuries of bitterness and then polished by something harder to name.
"I wonder who you would punish this time," Medusa said. "Is it the angels who let me in because they were powerless to stop me? Or would you take it out on me, the perpetrator?"
Athena sighed. The sound carried no weight. She had learned long ago to keep her exhales empty of meaning.
"I don't have time for this."
