“I should have known that meeting with them would lead to something like this.” He sighed.

“You mean because you can see the future? Or because they’re both hotheaded and have only gotten along when they ignored each other?” I smiled, which unnerved most people. Something about beaks smiling did that to people.

“I just thought that as the most common pantheons, forming an alliance made sense. We’re losing worshipers.” Odin sighed, adjusting his eyepatch.

“Ha!” I scoffed, which sounded more like a “caw,” “Losing? You mean ‘lost,’ Odin. We’re not worshipped anymore. Which hasn’t helped those two get along.” I motioned towards the two lightning-wielding kings of their pantheons, who had turned their argument into two combating storm fronts. That couldn’t be good for the poor humans residing below.

“I know, Ra, but at least people still remember our names. If we band together, I think we could pull this off. One grand pantheon of the world.” Odin held out his hands, his one good eye staring off into the distance.

I leaned back in my seat, looking away from Zeus and Jupiter and the storms and bolts they were throwing at each other.

“Look at them, Odin.” I said, realization sinking in. “Perhaps Horus is right.”

“Horus? Your eternal heir? What does he know of ruling the world?” Odin scoffed.

“Honestly, not much,” I conceded, “but he does know quite a bit about humanity.”

“What about them?”

“That they’re better off without us.” I said, quietly.

“What?” Odin roared, standing up and knocking over his chair. “How could he say that?”

“Because they’ve moved on!” I fired back. “They’ve left us behind, and can you really blame them?” I motioned towards the mega-storm brewing as a result of Zeus’ and Jupiter’s battle.

Odin glared at me, but his expression softened when he turned to the two pantheon kings. Perhaps he was beginning to understand it too. I continued before he could interject.

“Even without our nemeses: Kronos, Saturn, Loki, Set; we find ways to be toxic towards each other, and humanity is always caught in the crossfire.”

Odin and I both looked beyond the Greco-Roman storm to see floods from the rain, people scrambling around a car accident, winds so strong they were felling trees and branches on roads and power lines.

“But what else would we do?” It was Odin’s turn to speak softly, which was rare for the gruff viking lord.

Walking over to him, I put my hand on his shoulder, “There are other worlds just starting. Ones who may need the light of a new sun, or the guiding of a hunting spear. We were useful once, and we can be again,” I paused to break a glimmer of sunlight through the storm, distracting the two gods and giving hope to the humans, “but not here. Sometimes a fresh start is what’s best: for everyone.”