Makes you wonder if the gods are always right.

Humiliation sets armies marching, empires falling, breaks hearts and minds and souls.

What would the world be without him, and those like him?

The Riddler says you make the world better one battle at a time.

Each soul has its appointed doom. How is it you dare to raise a mortal boy so high - high enough to flout the gods? Bring godhead where a man may reach out and take it? growls Enlil, and lightning splits a clear blue sky.

Fury from the heavens; fury at the gods - inseparable.

Here and now was always where Tempus was, not off somewhere in the realm of Greater Good or Mortal Soul or Eternal Consequence. He'd lost the ability to determine greater good, if there was one; his mortal soul he'd given up on long ago. And as for eternal consequence - he was its embodiment.