After Hades forced the dead to the open, the higher beings left them alone for a while.
Perhaps out of courtesy. Perhaps out of calculation. Either way, they were given a side chamber and enough silence for the argument lurking under their skin to finally surface. No Tohu. No Jehovah. No Sera. Only survivors of a destroyed world, still breathing under foreign terms, still carrying different answers to the same wound.
Poseidon began it, as patience had never really been one of his stronger suits.
"I am done pretending this is temporary shelter," he said, standing to one side of the far wall with the trident grounded by his side, sea-old anger clear in his face. "They admit neglect. They admit failure. Then they go back to managing Zeus like a live weapon and the rest of us like attached parts. If we stay cooperative, we become useful. If we become useful, they never let go."
