Zeus stood in the center of the arena, his eyes shifting between the elders, their offers still hanging in the air like fragile promises. The crowd had fallen into a tense silence, every pair of eyes watching, waiting for his response. But Zeus took his time, soaking in the moment.
Despite the elders' flowery words and grand gestures, Zeus saw through their thin veneer of politeness. There was something else lurking behind those smiles—an unease they were trying to hide.
"They're desperate to have me," Zeus mused, his smirk barely contained, "but something's off. They're not as thrilled as they're pretending to be."
[Of course they're not,] the system chimed in, its voice dripping with arrogant amusement. [They know how dangerous you are. They want you, sure, but not for your benefit—for theirs.]
