Nike remained silent as Kray continued his onslaught on their uncle. She didn't speak up when Zelos moved away from her and raised his gun, shooting their uncle and dropping him to the ground. She had had a bit of remorse in the beginning when she wondered whether her brothers were going a bit too far. But Akheron's relentless mocking of them, his laugher that echoed everywhere, it made the little bits of guilt she might have had disappear.
Zee spoke the words for all of them. The once beloved uncle was no longer cherished by them, and she wondered if he was surprised or amused as the laughter indicated in part. Would she continue to feel this way, to aloof and angry but not sad over the loss of another family member. No he wasn't dead; part of her wished he was, but the other wondered when that would change.
Taking a few steps around Zelos, Nike stood next to Kratos and looked at her uncle and brother. "I am sorry for you Uncle. It's not pity; I feel sad for you. When all is said and done, we will still have each other, and our mother, and be a family. But you, now you're alone. Alone with your pain," she said softly but with determination. "I hope it is enough for you since it is what you relish the most."
Victory had done some questionable things in her existence, and a few unfathomable ones, but nothing like what Akheron had done. The attack on Olympus wasn't her fault and those who matter knew that. "And we are nothing like you, none of us, never." And she kept repeating in her head because nothing else would settle her mind.
"Be well Uncle," she added, the emotion draining from her voice, "if you can."