Fat Man and Little Boy
"I am king of the gods! Master of Olympus! I am Zeus!"
No answer came from beyond the iron door under his pounding fists. He struck it again all the same, and then again.
"The seers of countless cities have prophesied through tears of blood!"
"......"
"Even the Moirai are afraid! They will not come out of their chamber!"
"......"
"In there, something is being made to drag the world into ruin and burn everything to ash!"
"......"
Zeus was desperate. In every city the seers were going mad, each of them steeped in a terror no one could name and a madness that sank into them like dye. That was why he had to ask.
"Answer me! Hephaestus! Son of Hera! Son of Zeus—my own son!"
He hurled the words at a door that gave him nothing. Zeus, master of Olympus, king of the gods, cried out as if his life hung on the answer.
"The thing the seers will not stop naming—the thing that will set the world on fire!"
Here, where every eye in the world was fixed, he begged. Truly, desperately, he begged.