Sol's demeanor remained indifferent, a bored expression etched onto his face as he nonchalantly dismissed the importance of Deucalion's identity.
"Your existence or title holds no significance," he declared with an air of casual certainty, his words laced with an unsettling confidence.
Deucalion, upon hearing Sol's blasphemous proclamation, erupted with an indignant scream, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Blasphemy!" His words reverberated with righteous fury, the very concept of someone challenging his rightful claim to the throne of the supreme deity searing through his core.
"The title of the supreme deity rightfully belongs to me, to us," Deucalion thundered, his voice carrying the weight of eons of existence, his pride untarnished by the audacity of Sol's claim.