The Shinto heavens shook under the weight of war.
Zeus's storm split skies into shards, but even he felt the pressure building. Amaterasu's fire blazed brighter with each strike. Izanagi's hand reshaped creation itself, dragging the storm into knots. Izanami's death winds gnawed at his chest, his blood growing heavy. Susanoo circled like a shark in a storm, his blade hissing, while Raijin and Fūjin beat their drums and loosed their winds until the very air tried to strangle him.
The sun glared, the moon cut, the sea dragon writhed back from the depths. Everywhere, there were blades, fire, and claws. Everywhere, there were gods.
For the first time, Zeus's boots dragged against the broken clouds.
He clenched his fists, sparks crawling across his knuckles. The storm still roared in him, but it strained. His vision blurred as Izanami's breath swept over him again, a reminder that even thunder could fade into silence.
Then the sky cracked.
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