Ulmo
"No," Ulmo stated firmly, raising one of his hands, "No one has claim to any of the souls that are about to die. They will meet their God or Gods, even if it is not one of us. Do not pretend that you have the power or authority that you do not possess, Arcturus."
After he said this, he looked thoughtful as he glanced at Mask and nodded in agreement, "As much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with Mask. Interfering with the world ourselves would have disastrous consequences for all involved. We will influence the humans with our Avatars.
"As for Kallistrate's suggestions, I feel there is wisdom in them. We will save the mortals with the most promise and who have earned our favor throughout their lives and, to spare the pain of their losses, we will wipe their memories of the people they lose. The mortals we choose will be the ones to rebuild civilization under the guidance of our Avatars. Is that acceptable? I have already chosen mine. I suggest we summon our chosen Avatars now while Time remains still."
Nex, for his part, grunted, leaning back on his throne. Ulmo's statements seemed acceptable, though he disliked the Sea God taking control of the meeting. Still, all would acknowledge his authority, in time.
"I know who I want to save who to choose as my Avatar. Let us get this over with. Normally, I would be in favour of dividing the mortals who are about to die, but we do not have the time and I do not desire to see another god gaining power at my expense."
Caspian
Caspian stood on the beach. Really, if he must die, he preferred to choose where he was to perish. Miami Beach was a party town. Its economy pretty much depended on tourists and its beautiful beaches. He had lived here all his life and he loved it. He was a tour guide and a professional surfer. At least, he thought of himself as one. He won quite a few competitions. Not that it mattered now. He glanced at the sky. He could see the flaming hot nukes heading their way. They were probably Cuban, meaning old-school Soviet style nukes. He supposed Cuba wasn't going to miss out on the fun. He sighed.
"At least I won't be around long enough to feel any pain."
Amon
Amon wasn't one to accept his death quietly. No. He would be struggling for survival until his last breath and that was why he wasn't in a Mosque whimpering like an old fool or a woman. He had gathered his compatriots and was in the desert with plenty of food and water that they had liberated amidst the riots in Cairo. They were far from the main cities. There was a chance they would live and live he would, he vowed to himself. He glanced at someone whimpering in the corner. He rolled his eyes.
"Allah may be All-Merciful, Ali, but do you really think He'll spare a rapist and a thief who repents at the last minute?" he snorted. Amon fingered his own amulet. He had found it in a tomb that ad somehow not been raided over the centuries. It was a golden amulet of Set and when he touched it, he heard his voice. His god was the god of the desert and he was strong for it. Whatever happened, he would not die.