Xanthippe slowly turns her gaze to him—the look of an executioner choosing which rope you deserve.
She frowns:
“Τί οὖν; τοῦτο ἔργον Ἡφαίστου φῄς;
ἢ πάλιν μέθης λόγοι,
ὦ Σώκρατες;
Ὅ τι δ’ ἄν ᾖ—
ἐπὶ τῇ ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ πίπτει.
Τὸν οἶκον διέφθειρας…
καὶ τοῦτο ἐντὸς εἰσήγαγες;”
[So… you claim this is a work of Hephaestus?
Or just more drunken talk of yours,
Socrates?
Whatever it is—
it falls on my head.
You've wrecked the house…
and then brought this thing inside?]She steps closer, suspicious, pokes Zeros in the chest:
“Καὶ τοῦτο… τίς ἐνταῦθα ἤνεγκεν;
Ποῖος τῶν φίλων σου
τοῦτο πάλιν εἰσήγαγεν;
Τοῦ Ἀλκιβιάδου;
ἢ τῶν μεθυσμένων σοφιστῶν;”
[And this… who brought it?
Which of your friends
dragged this in again?
Alcibiades'?
Or one of those drunk sophists?]Zeros doesn’t move a single inch. If he could sweat—he would.
Blindy whispers:
“Shit…
I thought Shiori or Tresbola were the scariest women I’ve ever seen…
this—this one… she’s the scariest.
Damn… kinda reminds me of my mom…”
Phoenix, impressed:
“This is…
the only human being
who has ever forced Zeros into standby mode.
Well done, ‘first officer.’ Hold position.
She’ll leave soon—then get the hell out of there.”
Socrates, panicking, quickly steps in front of her:
“Ὦ γύναι, ἡσύχαζε!
οὐκ ἐκ φίλου ἐστίν,
οὐδὲ σοφιστοῦ τινος ἀλητικοῦ·
ἄγαλμά ἐστιν—
τοῦ Διός,
ὃ Ἡφαῖστος ἔπεμψεν.”
[Wife, calm down!
He's not from a friend,
nor from some wandering sophist—
he's a statue…
of Zeus, sent by Hephaestus]Xanthippe narrows her eyes:
“Ἄγαλμα;
ἐν τῇ ἐσχάρᾳ τῆς οἰκίας;
οὐδὲν αἰσχρόν, ὦ Σώκρατες;”
[A statue?
Right in the middle of the house?
You're not ashamed, Socrates?]Socrates swallows dry:
“Τιμιώτατον…
ἄγαλμα.”
[A very… honorable statue]Xanthippe plants her hands on her hips:
“Τιμιώτατον ἢ ἄλλο βάρος ὅπερ ἐγὼ καθαριῶ;”
[Honorable?
Or another heavy piece of trash I'll have to clean around?]She keeps staring at Zeros, already evaluating where to hit—chest or head. Socrates steps forward half a step—saving the world, his marriage, and philosophy at the same time:
“Ὦ γύναι… φῶς μου… καρδία μου…”
[Wife… my light… my heart…]Xanthippe instantly narrows her eyes—he only talks like this when he wants something.
Socrates continues, voice like honey, eyes like a predator:
“Ὡς ἔλαμψας σήμερον…
ὥσπερ Ἀφροδίτη αὐτὴ ἀπὸ τῆς θαλάσσης.”
[How you shine today…
like Aphrodite herself rising from the sea]Xanthippe instinctively touches her hair—for a second, she forgets her anger.
Blindy whispers:
“Ooooh…
he just activated ‘husband trying to survive’ mode.
We’ve got the same thing in bars—if Tresbola’s pissed,
Doce flatters until she cools off.”
Phoenix:
“That is an ancient Greek de-escalation protocol.
Classic. Effective. Dangerous.”
Socrates gently takes her hand—firm, but respectful—like a man who knows gods are one thing, but a wife is worse.
“Δεῦρο, γύναι·
καθίσωμεν ὀλίγον.
Ἐκείσε… ἐντὸς τοῦ οἴκου.”
[Come, wife… let's sit for a bit.
Over there… inside the house]Xanthippe still side-eyes Zeros:
“Καὶ τίς οὗτος ἔσται;”
[And what about this one? He stays?]Socrates answers fast—too fast:
“Ἄγαλμα, γύναι!
σταθερόν… ἀκίνητον!
Οὐδὲν ἔξει.”
[A statue, wife!
It stands… unmoving!
Let it be]Zeros stands so still even the statues on the Acropolis would think: bro, you overdid it.
Xanthippe snorts:
“Ἄγαλμα… φασίν.
Καὶ ἐγὼ θεά.”
[A statue… sure. And I'm a goddess]Socrates, rushing:
“Καί μοι θεά ἐσσί!
Ἔλα, ἔλα, φῶς μου…”
[And you are my goddess!
Come, come, my light…]He practically drags her inside—like a sailor pulling a commander away from a ticking bomb. Xanthippe grumbles, but goes—because, dear gremlins, compliments for women
are like food for men: a universal currency straight to the heart.