The throne room was still, only the echo of Gaia's last words hanging in the air.
Zeus stood with one hand on the armrest, staring at nothing, thoughts running like silent lightning behind his eyes.
The great doors didn't creak. They just eased open, slow and deliberate.
Lucifer stepped through like he owned the place—hands in his pockets, boots clicking against the marble. His black coat trailed slightly behind him, and that sly grin of his was already fixed in place.
"I could not help," he began, voice smooth, "but overhear what you and your granny just discussed."
Zeus didn't turn right away. His eyes flicked over just enough to acknowledge him.
Lucifer kept walking, stopping a few steps short of the throne. "I can help," he said plainly. "I have an army. I have siblings who fell with me. And I'm freakishly strong." That grin sharpened. "So what do you say we take the fight to them before they even have a battle plan?"
