"What shall we do?"
A woman with dark hair, Grecian olive skin and accompanying features gazed at the others figures in the circular room with stormy eyes after the question had left her lips. There was a certain readiness in the way she studied the people, a certain air that led one to believe stratagem and warfare was her domain.
The woman was not the only one who seemed refined in a similar manner; there was a darker man with a rumpled look about him—a crinkled shirt, scuffed shoes, ripped pants that accompanied a strange lab coat that was dyed with various colors—but the cool eyes were equally, if not more so, sharper than her own gray ones.
An older man with one eye and an impressive physique and beard, was also similarly thoughtful, his ancient gaze darting to observe the final person in the room, who hid herself behind her chair, dull gray eyes and ragged blond hair a testament to how the mortals had determined her existence.
Contempt was in the Grecian's eyes, but she hid it for the sake of the meeting.
"We all sensed that... thing."
"Aye," the soft and ancient murmur from the one-eyed king rumbled, his single eye gazing far into a distance that was indiscernible. "That monster is indeed a 'thing'—a thing that an incompetent and overly zealous story god brought here, no doubt to ruin us all."
The rumpled man from before lay slumped in his chair, his eyes a needlessly bright and eerie blue that intently gazed at the old warriors words.
"I assume he comes from your tales? What is he? He reminds us of Our tales Apophis..."
The old man sighed, his gaze flickering upwards before he softly yet distinctly affirmed, "Yes, it isn't dissimilar to that monster of yours. It's a trigger you see—a harbinger of sorts, right alongside its damned younger brother. When that thing awakens, and its brother is freed from its shackles, the world ends. Some call it Armageddon..."
The rumpled man glared at his words, the faint touch of silver shining in his unsettlingly blue eyes as a warning.
"...others simply an apocalypse..."
The Gracian woman studied him coolly, her stormy eyes brewing with thoughts and emotions that couldn't be read. In contrast, the blond woman who looked much like the other, stared into space blankly, a hollowness in her that even 'the end' couldn't rouse.
"...but we, of the Norse, call it Ragnarok. We have no desire to see such a terrible event occur so prematurely; as such, in the name of similar interests in our survival and dominion, I, Odin, propose a temporary alliance with fellow-minded gods."
His old eye burned with spirit, and the madness of those who had run into conflict in the name of conquest seemed to be reflected within the eyes that would do anything for knowledge.
"We will end that creature and its distasteful peerage before that wretched, parasite can grow further."