Zeus staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as golden ichor dripped from the gaping wound in his abdomen. His divine essence crackled, resisting the abyssal corruption snaking through his form. He clenched his fists, his gaze burning with unrelenting fury. This mortal—this thing—had wounded him.
Unacceptable.
Lucius Noctis, or whatever monstrous entity he had become, licked the divine blood off his clawed fingers, a slow, deliberate motion of mockery. His jagged armor pulsed like a living entity, its darkness writhing and shifting as if hungry. The battlefield trembled beneath his presence, shadows stretching unnaturally, consuming even the ambient light.
"Getting slower, Zeus." Lucius tilted his head, his voice layered with something unnatural. "Are your years finally catching up to you?"
Zeus snarled and vanished in a blink.