The silence on the summit was absolute. The armies of Olympus and the Void Imperium just stood there, weapons lowered, staring at the unconscious form of the King of the Gods.
Nox stood over him, his fist still smoking with a faint wisp of void energy. He had just punched a god into submission. The sheer, anticlimactic reality of it was still sinking in.
Athena was the first to move. She walked calmly over to her father, her expression a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "It is done."
"What now?" Nox asked, his voice rough.
"Now," Athena said, "we begin the difficult work of building a peace."
The days that followed were a whirlwind of diplomacy and reconstruction. Athena, with Nox's silent, intimidating backing, took control of the Olympian faction. There were no more threats, no more declarations of war. She sent messengers to the other pantheons, not with ultimatums, but with offers of alliance, of a new, shared world order.
