God was moving. He was moving his chess pieces so accurately, and no one could tell what was next.
"Burn it," he ordered before sipping wine from his glass. His voice was calm, just like the wide ocean before him. Santorini mornings had always been perfect anyway, more so, his mansion there. Whitewashed houses lining down the most beautiful mountain in the world, meeting the blue Aegean waters calmly hit the shore.
It was heaven with a demon living in it.
"Burn it down and..." the God chuckled while letting the sweet breeze mess his graying hair. "... break his other leg. Make sure that he wouldn't have anywhere else to go."
•••
'Cazzata!'
Rome's cuss remained unspoken as he watched his headquarters, 'The Romans', burn through nine different TV screens. Thick dark smoke was rising
