Teknall had been busy at work on the plans, but one would have to be deaf to miss the taunts of Vestec. Of all the gods here, Vestec was the only one who has acted with malice and intent for destruction. Even the chaotic Zephyrion had been as constructive as his nature allowed, yet Vestec had done nothing but vandalise and ruin. Teknall disliked this god, so had been keeping an eye on him.

So when Vestec teleported past Logos and struck out against the Great Plan, Teknall moved to protect his precious creation. In the blink of an eye a large shield of solid metal formed on his arm and intercepted the Chaos flames, with them spending their corruption against the shield. The shield, a much less mighty artefact than the blueprint, instantly suffered the effects of chaos. The metal split, bubbled, melted, twisted and rusted.

Teknall tossed the ruined shield aside, it continuing to boil and warp after it landed, and then turned to Vestec, determination and anger in his eyes.

Niciel returned to the rest of the gods and goddesses after she had finished enhancing her power. Things were... lively, to say the least, especially concerning the Great Plan. There was a minor scuffle with Toun and Jvan that resulted in Toun's loss, leaving him horribly deformed. Naturally, Niciel went over to Toun, concerned for the god's wellbeing. Niciel prepared herself to perform a purification and healing on Toun, her hands and wings glowing white with her power. "Toun-" Niciel began before more conflict ensued.

Logos had began another conflict, blasting three of the gods away from the Great Plan, though not doing any serious harm. Niciel was shocked. Already things were moving downhill, before the Great Plan could even be put into action. To make things even worse, Logos had the nerve to request aid from her as well. Niciel had little doubt that someone had caused some mischief again, most likely Vestec again, but Niciel believed that violence was not the answer to this fight. Already the others were joining the fray, either defending the Great Plan, attacking one another, or both.

Niciel would have none of it.

Outraged at the idiocy of her siblings, Niciel changed form. As her body glowed bright white, her silhouette growing 4 more white wings, and her dress becoming shorter yet gaining sleeves and becoming more durable. She teleported herself into the middle of the battle, taking whatever blows were being exchanged at that location. Then she yelled in anger as she spread her arms and wings in all directions, released a powerful energy shockwave of purity mixed with wrath. It quickly spread in all directions, as Niciel was intent on striking every single being in the area.

As the shockwave subsided, Niciel yelled out, "ALL OF YOU, CEASE THIS FOOLISHNESS!"

Needless to say, Niciel was very, very angry. "We are gods, and we will act as gods, not as children fighting over a toy!" Niciel continued. "Logos, I expected better from you out of all of us. Starting a conflict with the others on so little provocation." Niciel then turned to the Vestec and added, "And you, Vestec, attempting to defile the Great Plan even further than you already have. I warned you not to take things too far." Now addressing everyone, Niciel spoke further, "There will be no fighting amongst ourselves. Not like this. We will have a peaceful resolution to this conflict once and for all."

As Ull'Yang drifted, he pondered. "Even at the moment when I severed my own arm, giving a portion of my essence to Slough, I didn't feel the connection one should have towards their siblings. It was more of a...protective kind of feeling. Why is that? Why do I feel so... distant from all the other gods?" Ull'Yang asked these questions while watching the void expanding endlessly in front of him. The pressure he felt within him kept building up...

At that moment, he felt another one of his supposed brethren come into existence. He would be the one to go against all of creation, put it down and pummel it into submission, testing its flaws and limits. As with the others, Ull'Yang didn't feel that he shared the sort of brotherly bond one should share with one's brother, in this case, Mammon. Nevertheless, he respected him because of the importance he held in keeping the balance of powers in check.

"Do you realise what you have done, God of Sun? This is not only a valiant act of kindness but the first act of kindness. I, Scribe of Souls, Recorder of the Gods, have taken great note of this. I will build my own library if need be so that a place in this world will always remember the first sacrifice: Ull'Yang's gift to Slough!" a voice ringed inside Ull'Yang's head.

"Act of sacrifice? Maybe. But what other use would there be for this temporary body of mine aside from enabling life to survive in this empty and savage void of the pre-Universe? The Universe cannot be allowed to lack life, for life is what makes the Universe truly gain meaning. Without life, it would be but an assortment of celestial bodies and matter in motion, without clear purpose or goal," Ull'Yang thought.

Following that, he remembered all the commotion that was going on near Slough's cocoon with many of the gods forming a circle around a certain big parchment, supposedly that was the Grand Plan of the Universe. "I shall go take a lo- Easy there," a voice was heard seconds before one of the gods rushed behind Ull'Yang and caught him in his hands. It was Teknal, the Craftsman God, and architect of the Grand Plan. "Let me patch that up for you," he said and placed his hand on the stump that had remained following Ull'Yang's self-mutilation.

To his surprise, Ull'Yang watched as liquid metal started flowing from under Teknal's hand, creeping upwards towards Ull'Yang's body and proceeding to harden into a solid metal case. Ull'Yang was about to thank the Craftsman God for considering his well-being but it seemed that Teknal hadn't finished his little work just yet. Metal rods and weird machinations started emerging from the metal casing, slowly molding together to form a metallic contraption with a close resemblance to an arm, minus the skin which Teknal implanted last, a metallic covering to go along with the rest of the build.

"How's that?" Teknall asked, "That arm should do until you can get a new one."

Ull'Yang tried to move the strange contraption and again, to his surprise, slowly one by one the fingers started moving first, followed by the hand and then the rest of the mechanic arm. "Truly astonishing," Ull'Yang simply thought, nodding his appreciation towards the retreating figure of Teknal, who was going back to join all the other gods surrounding the Grand Plan. Ull'Yang flew around the little group of 7 or so gods, keeping his distance and observing from afar.

He saw Zephyrion descending and leaving his mark on the Grand Plan, turning it from an immaculate golden parchment to a tattered piece of paper, a sight which left Ull'Yang somewhat disappointed by the First Gale's irresponsible actions. Somehow, though, the Grand Plan radiated more vividly after Zephyrion's meddling with it and so Ull'Yang decided that, while having an almost impossible to correctly pronounce, name, Zephyron wasn't nearly as bad as Ull'Yang thought he was.

More gods came forward and made their contribution to the making of the Grand Plan of the Universe, the likes of Astarte, Niciel, the newly arrived Belruarc and lastly Jvan, whose contribution was especially displeasing to the eye. However, none of their contributions were as important as Zephyrion's and so Ull'Yang didn't really pay much attention after that. He very much preferred to turn his attention to Logos, the self-proclaimed 'King of the Gods.' He boasted control over Universal Order and such wasn't one to be easily trifled with, that much Ull'Yang was aware of.

He descended upon the gathering of gods and forcefully pushed away from the Grand Parchment Jvan, Zephyrion and Vestec, seemingly intending to protect the Plan from being thoroughly corrupted by their chaotic essences. "Trying to block Beauty, however, twisted it is, and Change is one thing...but Chaos? You have no power over Vestec and you know that..." Ull'Yang thought, sighed and kept watching. That was when he realised that Toun had actually gone berserk and was hacking away at Jvan, trying to get her further away from the Parchment but failing and paying dearly because of it. Fortunately for him, Logos had managed what he couldn't.

Suddenly, Niciel appeared between the three gods and Logos and proceeded to unleash a terrible shockwave that accurately portrayed her current level of anger. When it reached Ull'Yang, aside from being paralysed for a few seconds, not being able to move, he was not harmed in a major way. However, the same cannot be said about the prosthetic arm that Teknal made for Ull'Yang. The sheer force of the shockwave shattered the metallic arm into pieces, leaving only the solid metal casing behind as a reminder of Teknal's gift. "Well, it's not like I would find any use for it, come the birth of the Universe..." Ull'Yang thought.

Somehow, something went down the wrong path during the creation of this Grand Plan and it resulted to this predicament. Niciel was lecturing all the gods but especially the two main sources of conflict, Logos and Vestec. At the same time, Toun and Teknal were trying to somehow fix the parchment up, trying to contain Jvan's creations and Vestec's corruption and although Ull'Yang realized that It was not the moment for him to finally make his own contribution to the Plan, It was also the only chance he would get. He felt the pressure building up inside of him was almost to its limit and Ull'Yang had begun to speculate as to what it might signify.

He flew in a circle, making sure to not get in the way of the gods that were currently fighting, and reached the location of the Grand Plan seemingly undetected, although it didn't really matter if the others saw him or not. "Brother," Ull'Yang mentally called out to Toun, "If you don't mind me, but this is something I must do as well, as one of 'gods.'" Ull'Yang made clear that he wasn't going to tamper too much with the Grand Plan and approached the parchment.

It was at that moment as he was reading through the piece of paper unfolded in front of him, that he realised just how much Vestec and all of the chaotic gods had tampered with the Grand Plan. "This...although it's in a bad shape, it's not of the magnitude befitting such conflict," Ull'Yang's voice, deep and mystifying, was heard for the first time since his emergence from the pitch-black void of creation that Amul'Sharar had called forth. "We truly are a bunch of children that got overly confident in themselves after being given power and the freedom to use it however they pleased..." Ull'Yang added while raising his one remaining hand over the parchment.

Pure cosmic essence flowed from his hand and to the Parchment, infusing it with his powers and changing it down to its roots. Needed changes of course. Ull'Yang found the passage that talked about the creation of stars, nebulas and other celestial bodies and completely rewrote them from start to finish. He was driven by a sheer instinct that said everything previously mentioned was utterly wrong and, if implemented, would cause the Universe to implode in on itself the moment it was born. When he was finished, he retracted his hand and stared at the Grand Plan and to his astonishment, the words on the parchment were re-organizing themselves to account for Ull'Yang's edits. Everything was becoming clearer, and as Ull'Yang went through the Grand Plan one more time, he realised that everything, down to the corruption of Vestec and Jvan's creations, had been organised in a manner that harmoniously incorporated both chaos and order, along with every other contribution of the gods.

"I believe that now we can cease this meaningless conflict..." Ull'Yang said, not caring if the others would hear him or not. He had done his part and now, he would wait for the results to show themselves.

He watched as the rest added to and manipulated The Grand Designs striving for a more balanced creation he watched as more chaos was added with bated breath and became ever more excited as he watched how the others dealt with it. His brothers and sisters were equally amazing and he loved it, them, and what they did. He watched as Toun seemed to lose control and tear into Jvan and bounded after them excitedly, simply watching and out of the way. When Toun crumpled he reached out with his mind concerned and curiously watched as he stood up with a stark flesh eye.

Seeing that Toun was okay for the most part Julkolfyr looked to mess scattered about and had an idea. He scooped up a few pieces of Touns shattered eye and a few of the meat chunks left behind by his enraged onslaught on Jvan, he did not bother to hide his actions in this as he did not see a need to. Gathering these he carefully place them in the darkness within himself as much protecting them as protecting himself from the small pieces influence. Content with the events thus far Julkolfyr returned to the congregation around the Grand Design only to see three of his brothers, Vestec, Zephyrion, and Jvan, tackled harshly by Logos.

He could see this would wildly spin out of control and watched as things unfolded. First was Vestec who once again attempted to inject more chaos into the Grand Design, though so much more this time that it would likely crumble away Julkolfyr wagered. Teknall Quickly prevented a volley of chaotic fire from burning away The Design and Niciel prevented the other attack though by doing so released a shockwave of light which he watched fly towards him with fear. Julkolfyr drew upon the darkness all around him suffusing himself with fueling it with anger at the recklessness of the attack that could harm the rest.

He fell upon a decision in that moment of feeling the light rush over him with excruciating pain unable to prevent a tight yelp. After it had passed he spoke with a strained voice to Ull’yang in answer to his statement..

“Not yet brother a point must be made.” And then Julkolfyr turned sullenly to Teknall and apologetically said

“I am sorry for what i do next brother, but take solace in that i will try to not wreak too much havoc and make sure what i do is within the bounds of this your Grand Design.”

With that he dropped all subtlety and drew ever more darkness into him and began to stride through The Design, wreaking a change so very overt that it changed Much of the Design. It was however not without its order as so much order and chaos were abound that he deliberately prevented chaos from influence his second change. The unseeable force That was gravity was all throughout The Design and so he removed it from one of his additions, that which gave all things room to move. It became cold and desolate, gravity refused to obey in such space and there was no up nor down or even sides.

This was not, however, all that was wrought for as he trotted through the design he left behind globules of darkness that began to settle and condense. For the time being he let them do so and entered into the tense situation happening ahead. He looked at all the parties involved and glared at Niciel as she spoke, annoyed at the the high and mighty stance she had taken. As she finished Julkolfyre interceded before anyone else could and began to speak himself.

“Peace? Peace is what you want? how can you demand such peace when you yourself lower yourself to the baseness of violence. It is quite laughable to be sure when another is as hypocritical as you. If you do not understand allow me to explain. You are acting almost exactly as Logos has, you seek resolution through violence and intimidation. Truly how foolish can you get? All of us have just come into this existence, we are fresh faced and yes we will act as children sometimes it is our right as gods.

Then we have this peace you speak of which might i add is a bit naive. If you wish to see peace then go ahead and continue to try but i will warn you that the more you try and enforce peace the more that we will come to separate from each other slowly but surely from into groups that are all against one another. You would have your peace but the groups would be antagonistic towards each other so can you truly call that peace? But i will not stop you from doing as you will for I am no lord of you.” and with his speech to Niciel at an end Julkolfyr seamlessly turns to Logos and launches into another diatribe, just for him, with no fear of the God of Order.

"Speaking of lords what makes you think that any of us will act in subservience in such a way towards you? It seems to be an action so lacking in thought, I mean look around you brother the only order that is to be seen is in the darkness. It has nothing to disturb it and when things appear within it it easily conforms yet remains unchanging.” He sighs shaking his white glistening head. “No, you are too stubborn to be talked to and convinced, i know that. and so i will demonstrate that you are not in control, and certainly not the strongest. I truly hope that you will take this as the lesson it is supposed to be.”

With that he exerted his pent up energy on the globules of Darkness that had been coalescing in The Grand Design. They began to spinning ever faster and, where they dwelled, The Design began to try and exert its purpose on these. But Julkolfyr would not let it forcing them to spin faster until finally they flung apart spraying throughout the design. They were few and far apart but that did not matter what mattered was the effect that they had. They were small orbs of darkness, of nothing and exerted that fact upon anything that came across them or vice versa. They would negate gravity and light, whatever they encountered. They would wander through the design, with no preexisting plan, and erase things simply due to their existence and then continue on unabated.

Julkolfyr finally let off as he felt that would suffice as a lesson and stared at Logos not challenging but not running simply waiting for a reaction to tell whether any lesson at all had been learned. He could not contain himself however and molded out of the darkness a crown to match Logos’ over his own head and spoke mockingly.

“I will also be tossing my bid in to be lord of the gods.”

Nameless jitters of particles and waveforms without place or precedent streamed and glowed between Jvan and the sacred manuscript of the world to be. Her body gaped, stretched almost to its fullest to allow the flow of engineered potentiality to swirl unimpeded into the coming universe through the canyons and pits of her surface. The exertion was a recklessly large flex of her churning fractal engine, the first of its kind, and it left Jvan blind and mute to the screams of the one who had requested her service as a brother.

_{What a pretty pattern I'm becoming,} thought a dim, imbecilic part of her mind as the divine geometry of her science wound themselves into the universal design. In the absence of pain, Jvan did not realise that the shapes and twists her body was forming was not a product of its own perpetual evolution. Like a single independent eye dwarved in a face of ten, that weak part of her perception gazed upon herself and was filled with shock that it could not properly comprehend and did not dare bring to the awareness of the Engineer as a whole. _{...This, those clots, those strips of tendon, they are part of me- I- Brother, Toun, no!}

The Porcelain Lord had matured and refined its childlike simplicity into something glorious, and it was hacking at Jvan. Her intricately twisted body was vulnerable and only opening further as connections were severed, but the core of the Horror, the bulk of its mind, was too far gone to halt or observe. Only the Sculpture could evoke any response as it dipped and bent and flourished. Perhaps Toun sensed this. Perhaps he was simply mad. Likely he was simply lashing out towards the source of his wild, unrestrained disgust. When the sleek body intercepted the passage of design between her and the fabric, Jvan came to realise in full what was occurring, but could not and did not let herself cease, and her power flowed around and through him with the might of an active god.

The disintegration of Toun seemed to bend time into a momentary halt, so tightly bound were the pair. As shards of perfection traced around her in almost gentle lines, Jvan looked, and saw, with tired, bittersweet joy, that Toun was looking back, and at last, he was whole. From a canvas, art. From a globe, fragments. He was broken, and he was beautiful.

Then the scything shards of porcelain flew into her, through her, and time took what it was owed. The moment collapsed into a stream of blurs. For the first time, Jvan felt pain, as the remnants of Toun's flawlessness fell deep into her cavity, jammed themselves between the spokes of her engine and burned like ice. The last of her energy boiled from her in a slick, falling into completion on the blueprint, and she tried in vain to contract and coalesce back over her wounds as they reverberated with a ceramic clink.

Perception sharpened, free of the burden of creation, and Jvan saw the vast form of Logos, the eyes of Oppression, and was helpless to stop herself from being tossed skittering over the surface of the pre-void. "Desist." His wingbeat threw her a considerable distance from the gods of Order, and she lay there, spinning at an odd axis, the carved and butchered surface of her body releasing fragments of flesh as it struggled to close. But they could only seal in the damage, not repair it.

Brother, my brother, why did you forsake our agreement? Within Jvan clung pieces that would never change nor be expelled, shards that would cut through the flesh that moved over them rather than assimilate into the visceral tapestry, an irritation that would only find rest when it was brought into the perfect shape. I must take more pains to preserve myself. From the reckless clash, she was forever scourged with the memorial of a god that had considered itself perfect, though it offered nothing of form until it reached breaking point and was corrected.

"I should have broken you earlier, Toun. I should have finished the aborted work you were!" Jvan's flesh was mending irregularly as Toun's heart was acknowledging the flaws in his work. She didn't know if her words would reach him. She called anyway, to hear what her own self had to say. Something deep and pure and innocent within her had been cut loose and lost, and as a child who matures without knowing what they are sacrificing, she felt bitterly melancholic and confused. Never again would she make the mistake of letting something remain when it offered nothing but the potential for betterment.

"Desist!" A second command, weaker than the first. Jvan struggled to interpret Vestec's babbling, but when the colour washed out from his garments, shed like the facade they were, he made his intentions clear. "I'd like to see you try."

I refuse! But Vestec moved, and Jvan was still far from recovered enough to block him, or to try and save Slough Rottenbone from damage in the crossfire. It was the engineering of Teknall, pragmatic and loyal to creation, who repelled as much of the onslaught as could be done, and it was the purifying light of Niciel, precious Niciel, who transfigured herself into a multi-winged creature for the benefit of the great artwork, who made the move to cast him down. Jvan found herself deep in appreciation for the resilience of the Mother Goddess. Truly, her values were strong as her new form as inspiring.

Ull'Yang was having perhaps the most success at reconciling the damage Vestec had done, playing it off against the work of Toun and Logos, blending it with the more harmonious work of Zephyrion. A lurking god, a figure whom Jvan had barely seen, handsome in his mystery, came forth to debate with Logos. Jvan didn't much care for the King of Gods, but at least he stood against Vestec, the deceiver.

If Julkolfyr had anything right, however, it was this: Peace was naive. And words were weak.

"Complete your work, brothers and sisters," she mused, remaining not much closer than where Logos had cast her, taking up orbit around the grand design. Julkolfyr could claim what he liked, and to him every blessing, but Jvan kept only the borders that power had decreed, and in this moment, power lay with Order. "Let those who will, defend against the Flawed One." The spirals of her asymmetrically scarred form whirled and blossomed into bone and gristle, casting a net of toughened flesh around the egg of Rottenbone Slough. Blue shadows splayed themselves around the cartilaginous basket and over its wooden surface as Jvan's core burned through what energy it had left. "I will not see our gallery harmed."

With the Dreamweaver Ilunabar’s path in the creation was set, her mind now was at ease, no matter what happened to their world she would have a foothold in the dreamworld. Her siblings were not reliable, she saw so much beauty in them, but she could also observe a lot of megalomany and an excessive desire to shatter the equilibrium between the different gods.

The first action that made the project less disappoint was Zephyrion’s contribution. She was the patron of paintings and statues and she knew exactly what he was talking about. You can draw a man about to get stabbed, however no matter how many years go by the man will never be stabbed. The cosmos couldn’t be like that.

She silently clapped in approval as he went by. He would probably never like Ilunabar’s work, his winds would mold paintings, corrode statues and tear down buildings, and that was good, there is no art without change. Actually, the ruin of nations is sometimes the better fuel for a new generation of beauty.

She saw as the last sister arrived, closing the gap behind her. “The dawn of our world is looming. I wonder how hectic the closing chapter of creation will be”
Jvan came in crashing to answer the muse’s question. In the end their problems were similar, the lack of space among their scheming brothers made the goddesses of beauty resort for outlandish solutions. “My my” the goddess hesitated on commenting about her sister’s work, it was remarkably peculiar, yet she knew her siblings wouldn’t appreciate it for that.

However not even the patron of writers predicted the madness that followed. Toun erupted in a mixture of rage and recklessness and, as if called by the turmoil, Logos finally took form, quickly showing his rotten core.

The muse covered her mouth with her hand, not only because of the disgust that Logo caused on her, but because she had to hide her outrage, Logos ‘s animosity was not was she needed right now.

“Making the Dreamweaver away from the Great Plan was such a fortunate decision” she thought “That presumptions beast would have wanted to stop me”

Ilunabar really wanted to be neutral to all things, but Logos was something beyond. He had taken a belligerent stance against almost half of the pantheon of gods.

“But not me, not yet” The muse accepted that right now she could do nothing, it was time to wait for more favorable days.

Until then, she could dream.

The goddess bitterly watched the clash going on, Vestec was dangerously reactive, she thought he would care about balance, however he was trying to cause absurd corruption just to counter Logos ‘s madness.

Then she noticed the barrier forming around Slough, the style immediately denounced the creator. “Oh Jvan” Ilunabar didn’t hesitate this time, her colleague of domain had been hurt, cast away and even Niciel had only tried to heal Toun, despite both sides being hurt. She flew in the direction of her sister and started to scout her weakened form, ready to at least try to block any further harm that could come to her.

There he was, Kyre, 'standing' alone and simply watching as his fellow gods came into being. The first to come after him was Julkolfyr, god of darkness. Then came Jvan, Reathos, Ilunabar, Ull'Yang, and Toun.

It was Toun who first interacted with him, "Brother. I beseech you to keep our design safe. All its creators must unite to prevent its destruction." He had taken him by the shoulders and moved his... face, so close that Kyre could see his own reflection on him.

"Toun, I am war, I can both protect, and destroy. Such is the nature of war. The design wil be unable to be... altered to a great extant once it has been put into action." Toun left him as he said this, "I will protect what i can, but... Nothing can be truly perfect." This interaction had lasted long enough that any further gods that had come into being he had missed witnessing.

He only had a short time to observe the new arrivals before the God of Knowledge, Vulamera, contacted him. She did not have a body of her own, so it was difficult for one to view her directly, so instead he looked towards where he felt her presence as she messaged him, "You, me, we're different. Unique. The other divinities have already started scheming, plotting, influencing all for themselves. But I can feel deep within me that you know the greater good: you know what is evil and how to oppose it. In this, we are one, and will be great friends, on the battlefield or at rest."

Kyre thought a moment, "It is in the nature of most to scheme, plot, and influence, even among we gods, so it is not surprising to me to see it already." He kept the thought of her doing the same to himself, "Greater good? Tell me, knowledge, what exactly is the greater good? Good and evil, what defines a good act and what defines an evil act, what makes that line?" Kyre sighed, he was war, the line beteween good and evil is very much blurred at times. "I suppose we are indeed one in this regard, we can be friends... and I accept the offer."

And then silence, at least from him, until once more drastic events took place, a fight among the gods. Kyre watched passively, feeling that Fate or the other might intervene if it became too drastic, but those nearest to him might sense passive irritation at such events. Despite Logos' efforts, Vestec, the chaotic and uncaring god that he was, moved past him to once more spread corruption into the blueprint, only just being stopped by Teknall. It was as Vestec reached for it that Kyre finally moved. Teknall would not be able to stop that action without suffering from it in some way, but he could. The shockwave from Niciel hit him as he went but did little, he was the god of war, he was much more capable of withstand such action than any of the others.

Just as the hand of Vestec was about to touch the scroll, Kyre grabbed the wrist it belonged to, slowly forcing it back while the corruption attempted to infect him instead. Funny, it was, that something like war could resist it, but war was both chaos and order, good and evil, and Kyre chose to fully reject Vestec's corruption in this instance. He pushed him back, not in a violent way, but forceful as though telling him to simply stop. "Vestec, you've already done enough to it in this state, any more and you won't have much fun in the future, understand?"

Then Ull'yang approached the plan, and did something miraculous to it. Along with adding his own power to it, his contribution allowed for all the earlier ones, even those fighting against each other, to harmoniously bond together in a way that was most unexpected. Kyre turned his gaze upon him, and gave an acknowledging nod of respect.

Now, for his own contribution. For his, he added his power to it, strengthening the bonds between all aspects on the plan and making it difficult for anymore of his siblings to alter it in any drastic way without his allowance. And finally, Slough, who's cocoon had been knocked over and forgotten in his sibling's squabbling.

He moved over to it just as Jvan used her very body to cover and shield it from further potential harm. He stopped just mere 'inches' away from the flesh that was she. He could see that she was using all her strength to do so, "Jvan, sister, do not risk destroying yourself in such a way." Then only to her, he added, "Only go so far as you can handle, I will help guard our sister."

Logos manifested himself and in some attempt of dominance or coercion, summoned a force that hurled away the three gods as if they were mere skipping stones or some sort of other discard. Vestec replied with defiant mockery. Jvan seemed perturbed but no so enraged.

From Zephyrion, there were no words, but the emptiness of space resounded with the thunderous quiet of his disbelief and shock. After performing the grand favor of fixing their worthless blueprint and aiding them in whatever foolish machinations that they possessed for this 'paradise', this was his thanks? And they had attacked him without warning from behind, while he had already moved to leave? Banished were notions of cooperation and friendliness; rage reigned in the Storm King's heart and mind. At last, a soft whisper escaped from the vortex, "You DARE oppose Change? There is no stopping it!" In the next moment, Zephyrion was far and away.

That majestic, half-humanoid form that the First Gale had adopted was no more; in a second it had been consumed and torn asunder by the unstoppable zephyrs of wind that rushed into the angry god. The already sizable vortex that his body had been inflated drastically into a colossal tempest. The soft breezes that he emanated were now wild gusts that hummed and cackled with unstable energy. The unbound storm that was now his vengeful simulacrum burned brazen as the winds that constituted the god's form whirled so fast that friction alone superheated them. Raw energy and potential was unleashed; its glowing snakes hissed and lashed out in the form of wild lightning.

"You DARE command me?! I ANSWER TO NOTHING!"

It was then, just as he prepared to strike with divine fury, that Niciel's blast of magic passed through the raging storm and struck right at the core of Zephyrion's divine essence, catching the god off guard. Dazed, he looked towards her. Her voice rang out, "ALL OF YOU, CEASE THIS FOOLISHNESS!" We are gods, and we will act as gods, not as children fighting over a toy!"

The cool serenity of her voice that he so cherished now worked its way into his heart and sought to purge out the fires that raged within. The wild winds of Zephyrion began to slow and calm. "Consider that your warning, Logos," he hissed, words dripping with venom. He had half a mind to then come to Vestec's aid, but desiring to not draw the ire of Niciel or the others, he instead went to Vestec and tried to drag him away before more damage was done.

"Leave them to their silly plans, brother! There is other fun to be had." Impulsively, he decided that he wanted to find another to play with. He chose Astarte. For some reason, she seemed fun. A tendril of wind reached out to find the goddess and it tugged playfully on her hair, willing her to come over to join the pair. "Let's play a game!" he proclaimed jubilantly, his excitement having already banished from his mind the fresh memories of the incident that had just happened. "We will all fly, and one of us will try to catch the others! Vestec will go first! He's it!" Without so much as waiting to see if they agreed to play, Zephyrion whisked off, using the wind to propel himself away from Vestec at a dizzying speed.

Law is stealing the upper-hand from Chaos, Vulamera noticed smugly, The winds of power shift in our favour. It was true. The winds were indeed shifting, though not by any command of Zephyrion: that deluded child was too flippant to truly rule over anything, for even his eternally reforming thoughts were at the command of his insatiable desire for change without reason. He was puppeteered by those random urges: made a fool king. Change has the potential to be a priceless resource, this much is undeniable, but it should be wielded cautiously by those who think before acting, and so the same should become true of Zephyrion. The First Gale must be reigned in so others can command, letting him loose onto the world only when necessity would dictate.

The same control should be exercised over Vestec, Adversary and Astarte; each of them so powerful, but so irresponsible with that power. Left to their own devices, they would crumble the universe to a state of un-logic, where the single constant is chaos itself and all else is subservient. However, she realized the potential of Adversary, Astarte and Belru and thus sent them all an identical message. "Greetings, my sibling! Your power is indeed vast, far beyond what I could wield with my mind alone. However, I think we will both find that, once the world is created, many of the same scholars who follow me will utilize your complex powers. We will have to work together."

Forging these early friendships would hopefully bring some of the gods together with her, leading to a peaceful world.

However, these were only her private musings. She would not impose them on others, unless extreme circumstances arose. Indeed, the impression of seeing the disastrous conflicts raging within the void had registered with her like a cannon-shot. She despised the sight of conflict so much that from this point forward, the Transcendent Mother vowed to sincerely earn her title by fostering only knowledge, not this repugnant avarice.

This newly-found philosophy of peace did not suddenly transform her into a weakling, of course. There are always certain things that cannot be stood for, the chief among them being destructive chaos and pointless idiocy, both of which had found suitable embodiments in Vestec or Jvan.

Fortunately, Logos seemed prepared to deal with them. Just as the Scribe was preparing to give up hope that Order Incarnate would hear her plea for assistance, the winged creature himself appeared, flying overhead (was overhead real in a void?) to confront the Chaotic Gods.

His wings spread far, the gale of wind ushering from them shoving each of the defilers safely out-of-reach of the Universal Plan. The command "Desist!" was heard across the great emptiness, and Vulamera knew that conflict could not be far behind it. Regrettable. It was almost enough to make one regret requesting Logos' assistance at all: one would hope an Order God understood the need for intelligent caution, but it was clear now that even God's of Order could be fools. Vulamera would still stand firmly with Law, but she was also certain to take a mental note of the drastically, damnably disappointing disillusion.

“Toun. Teknall. Niciel. Vulamera– I will keep them at bay. Undo their corruption. Finish the Design and enact the Great Work.”

"Very well." was her curt reply.

The invisible grasp of Vulamera suddenly extended once more to the Scroll, reaching down without tangible force to implant her ideals. When the Design previously felt her influence, it was for naught more than editing and organization. This time, however, she truly put herself- her very essence of divinity- into the page, forever imbuing within it the pure nature of Mind and Intelligence, so that sentient life would have a chance to develop whenever Slough chose to grace the barren lands with his being.

A sigh escaped lips that didn't exist yet. She was finished. Her work complete.

She spoke aloud, casting her voice to all around the Gathering. "I have imbued my essence, which in itself may drive out fractions of the foul chaos and harmonize our designs as one. However, I unfortunately have not the power to do any further. I have spent all within me."

As she was still speaking, the hard tone of War found its way to her. "It is in the nature of most to scheme, plot, and influence, even among we gods, so it is not surprising to me to see it already," Kyre sounded somehow both wise and dangerous: a fitting impression for a god of his domain. "Greater good? Tell me, knowledge, what exactly is the greater good? Good and evil, what defines a good act and what defines an evil act, what makes that line? I suppose we are indeed one in this regard, we can be friends... and I accept the offer."

For the first time, Vulamera laughed. It was a musical, cold sound, devoid of true joy but nonetheless precise and measured in its sound, as if an emotionless scientist had attempted to objectively construct the perfect laughter.

"You've caught me, Kyre! My mention of good and evil was only to test you, to observe your ability to notice the lack of obvious distinction betwixt them. Indeed, there is no difference between good or evil, for both terms are so vague as to be rendered useless by deprivation of definition. I sincerely apologize to you, my sibling, for playing such games, but I only intended to judge your mind. Deceit for deceit's sake is not my way."

She stopped to ponder for a few moments, then continued, "My offer of friendship was not a trick, however. I stand by what I said before: you seem a wise one to me, especially now that you've unveiled my little experiment." This tale was true, for Vulamera had gained some real respect for Kyre. She had not expected the Warmonger to know how unreal good and evil were. A Child God he was, but a bright one. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him...

But there surely was none for Vestec. He appeared like a bolt of lightning, fire at his fingertips to consume all they had worked for! Teknall, the Almighty Artisan, leaped into motion, a shield materializing from nothing in his hands. He bravely defended the work from Vestec. It was a brave thing, but a single God alone would never be enough to defend such an incalculable treasure.

Kyre swam through the black to grab at the Devil's wrists. He glared heavily into Vestec's wild eyes and issued a fierce warning, before pushing the disgusting being away.

But it was still not enough. So the Transcendent Mother did a very odd thing. She condensed herself into a tight sphere of spinning energy, suddenly developing a onyx-black colour, becoming visible. Round and round she whirled like potter's clay in a wheel, all the while quickly moving and hiding the Scroll within herself. If the corrupted deities wanted to lay so much as a finger on this creation, they would have to utterly destroy Vulamera first.

"Fear not, my dear friends, I am not stealing this creation. I have only wrapped myself around the Scroll to defend it from those bent on doing harm to all our work. If any of you- Toun, Teknall, Kyre, Vowzra, Logos or Ull'Yang- wish the document returned, I will gladly surrender it up to you. I hide it now from the evil gods, not from the true ones such as yourself." A note of sincere pride tinted her voice, as she waited for the Great Work to finally be put into action and the universe created...

The Adversary

Level 1: 4 Might 1 Free Point

The Adversary nodded at his brother in beauty, Zephyrion, and bade His demon fly up and beat the un-air with its wings in celebration.

“You words cut close to truth, Windy Cuz’! All is perfect by perfection’s nature, but nothing is without flaws -- and we are all the better for it! Without soft there would be no hard; without stasis there would be no change!” He called down His wyrm and let it snake around Toun’s legs, pure black against purer white. “That your vision is of paradise is as maybe, but this paper is not your vision. You must learn the need for deficiency in this world, or send yourself forever insane.” He turned away and caught His serpent. He broke its neck and returned the body to Him.

Meantime many gods concocted plots to change or steer the cocoon of Life that lay beyond Him. They were free to do as they pleased. He had no wish to mould life to His will; it was not His place to do so, nor in His interest. His passion lay in the path that life took after its inception. That would be worth following. So He did not worry much for it, nor feel much sorrow when its egg shell hardened beyond His powers. But He felt moved at least to see it in greater detail.

Mammon was thunderstruck. All the universe shrieked in glory, but Life in all its myriad hasty forms was as a flash of lightning in pitch night. It was a wonderful thing. Trunks, of flesh and plant, twisted tight around rotten bone and muscle. It was strong, strong against all that tried to move it...but very, very fragile, almost dead from its own great power. The Adversary felt a strange intentness for the thing. He stared deeply into it, then reverted to His early form. He laid a blackened hand upon its shell.

“Hey. Doe. Things are going to be rough. People are going to mess with you, more than they have before. They’re going to hold you hostage, change you, break you on their anvils and mould you to their paradise. You’re going to be flawed. You’re going to be full of grand mistakes. But you’ll be spectacular. You’ll forge a thing worth more than all the rest of us combined. And the things you make will do things more magnificent than any all of us could hope to dream of. So live, live and drink and eat and run.” He paused. “That wasn’t an attempt to change you. That’s just advice.” He broke off when the one who would be king arrived.

His protests were meaningless. The Adversary cared not whether creation was ordered or chaotic. He would test Logos’ laws of physics as much as Zephyrion’s laws of change. But one thing interested Him. “You! Winged one from on high! Something of your mein has caught my eye. Tell me; are you Order yourself? Or is Order something different that you merely further?”

He ignored him beyond that. Logos could not diminish the greatness of the universe despite all his attempts; no god could. So the King in Red, crowned in lead, gave little thought to Logos or the miniature war he’d started.

But then another god spoke to him.

“Greetings, my sibling!” she said. “Your power is indeed vast, far beyond what I could wield with my mind alone.” As if the Adversary cared for competition. “However, I think we will both find that, once the world is created, many of the same scholars who follow me will utilize your complex powers. We will have to work together." Mammon laughed, His coal eyes cold.

“Oh, Scribe of Scribes, many of those who follow everyone will use my powers.” He smiled wide and licked His tongue around His teeth. “Of course I will work with you. I will work with all. I must work with all, to see them proofed. But, by that same line, you must work with me. In truth, it matters not one jot either way; if you refuse I shall bathe you in metaphorical fire just the same. I do not think you want to refuse. You crave knowledge; how can you know the strength of something until you break it?”

He closed His mouth and ceased His licking. “I think there is no need to take this piece of paper hostage. We are done, or as near as needs little meddling. Agitated am I to see this universe to its beginning; anxious am I to get to the breaking and making.”

Fate and Amul'Sharar had watched patiently and wordlessly. However, Fate now acted, summoning the Book within Vulamera to it. The Codex of Creation, as it had become upon Vulamera's touch, was not the product of unity. It had been produced by discord, argument, infighting, one-upmanship and hostility.
Where in other worlds the universe had come about through unity, before the shattering disunity took place, this world had been different. There had been no unity to begin with. Even the Codex, despite effort to unite and harmonise all that was within it, was already a shattered and disharmonious thing, at war with itself and imbalanced.

The great being willed it, and the energies within the book coalesced upon each other and the gods were at once pulled towards it. Then the disunited energies of the book were shattered even more, and the shattering disunity took place.



With the Shattering Disunity over, all the gods would find themselves hovering above a barren planet. The energies that had been given to the Codex of Creation - which was now back within Vulamera - had made it hospitable to life, but no life yet existed upon it. Other than an atmosphere, it was a thing neglected. It was Galbar.

Just as Ull'Yang thought that everything would settle down after he helped further organise the Grand Plan, more gods started voicing their opinions, aggravating the situation even further. Ull'Yang flew backwards and watched as Julkolfyr approached the parchment and added his own power, distorting even further the already unstable Plan. Ull'Yang reduced himself to spectator status and waited patiently while, from time to time, throwing glances towards Fate and Amul'Sharar, wondering if they would even intervene in the case of an all-out war between the gods.

Finishing adding his own contribution to the Grand Plan, Julkolfyr seemed to not be satisfied with doing just that and instead, started lecturing both Niciel and Logos, berating them for believing they upheld justice and goodness when they themselves make use of their powers the same way a chaotic god would. Ull'Yang had been nodding in agreement with Julkolfyr's words thus far, "Truly, we are too arrogant for our own good..." he thought and sighed.

Jvan, contrary to Ull'Yang's previous image of her, or was it him? Anyway, it seemed like she didn't care one bit about Logos and Toun attacking her and instead was more worried about the safety of Slough. She flew near the cocoon that encased the weakened goddess of Life and after attaching numerous limbs made of flesh and bone on the cocoon, she dragged it away from the other gods while declaring her intentions to protect Slough from any further harm. Illunabar also approached Jvan, seemingly offering to heal Jvan's wounds.

While all that was happening, Kyre made his move to stop Vestec from further corrupting the parchment before proceeding to add to the already enormous pool of divine power that was the Grand Plan. He then joined Jvan in protecting Slough's cocoon.

*Throb* Suddenly, excruciating pain washed over Ull'Yang's body. "What is this!" *Throb* "AAH!" Ull'Yang clawed at his chest with his remaining hand. "This...this pain! I shouldn't be feeling this!" He realised that the pain he felt was unlike the pain he felt when he lost his arm. That time he felt no more than a mere sting while now, he felt like someone or something was gnawing away at his soul! *Throb* He slowly started losing control of his senses. He started to gradually lose his hearing and his vision started to get blurry. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was Zephyrion briefly talking to Vestec and Astarte before flying away from them.

*Throb* He thought he was ready for it. He thought he had prepared himself but the moment he started feeling this vile pain deep inside his soul, he panicked. Ull'Yang shot upwards before taking a sudden turn to the left followed by another left turn. Right, right, left, up, down and diagonally. Ull'Yang was in a frenzy, flying haphazardly all over the void of the pre-Universe. *Throb.*

Ull'Yang stopped and let out an ear-piercing wail that rippled through the void, spreading in all directions. Now, completely blind and deaf, he relied on his cosmic essence in order to map his surroundings, quickly finding the two Creators by the distinct aura they emitted. "You..." Ull'Yang growled when he recognized the silhouette of Fate. He rocketed forward, flying towards his superior while letting out cries of pain. "FATE! I was wrong! I-I am not ready for this! Take my soul away! I don't care what happens, just don't let me go through this!" Ull'Yang shouted in dismay.

Suddenly, Ull'Yang felt a powerful presence intrude his awareness. "What's done is done. There's no turning back..." To others, those would have been but mere words with no other meaning. To Ull'Yang, though, they meant everything. At that moment, Ull'Yang felt a sudden force pulling at him, dragging him closer and closer to the location of the two Creators. Cracks started appearing on Ull'Yang's face and body and from within which, an unbelievable amount of heat was being emitted.

In these last moments of the pre-Universe, Ull'Yang had resigned himself to his fate. The pain that he was experiencing had numbed even the deepest and most distant corners of his soul. The only thing on his mind right now was simply hope. Hope that he would survive to see the final product of their collective efforts.

And then it happened. An enormous release of matter and energy, bringing everything that they, as gods, had scribbled on that relatively long piece of parchment to existence. Along with the explosion that gave birth to the Universe, another, much smaller explosion in comparison to the Shattering Disunity took place. Ull'Yang's body couldn't withstand the sheer amount of pressure that had slowly built up over time and with a tremendous bang, it exploded outwards, letting out enormous amounts of matter and radiation.

In the wake of the explosion, a dense cloud of matter, hydrogen, helium and other gases was formed. Slowly, the matter inside the cloud started swirling around a single point in space whilst coalescing into tiny little clumps and growing in size. As these clumps got larger, they were forced to, one by one, come together until there’s only one single clump left. The clump then proceeded to condense, even more, reducing in size but increasing in density until a certain point at which, once reached, the temperature inside was so high that everything started fusing together.

Ull'Yang came to and soon realised he was not the same as before. No... this was who he really was. The Primordial Star had been born.

Vestec looked at Teknall, disdain roiling off of him as he viewed Niciel's rage. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, however. Zephyrion looked like he was about fight Logos himself. He relaxed however, and Vestec was forced to continue by himself. A wave of purity was coming at The Architect of the Great Plan and him, so Vestec threw a shield of Chaos Energy around himself to protect himself from it, his colors returning to their regular random flashing. A point needed to be made, and he wasn't about to stop because the Goddess of Light was angry at him for his actions. He kept looking at Teknalll, giggling as the purity washed against his shield, eradicating what Corruption he didn't protect behind it. Despite the Chaos God's lack of facial features, there was the decided sense that he thought The Great Artisan was being stupid. His fire might have been stopped, but his corruption would spread throughout the Great Plan without anyone to stop him now. At least, that's what he thought, until a rather strong hand closed over his wrist.

Immediately his Corruption began infesting the God of War, in a half-hearted way, as he didn't think an evil God of War would be any fun. A more vicious one, however, that would be excellent. Vestec giggled as he was forced back, his corruption dissipating away. "I have a better idea of fun, God of War." He called, getting ready to try again. Unfortunately, Zephyrion grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Very well." His attention was rapidly taken by Zephyrion setting up a game, and then bolting off like lightning. "Let the games begin!" Vestec cried, taking after his quarry, launching himself after with Chaos fire.

He was vaguely aware of Vulamera taking the Great Plan into her own body, Ull'yangs pain, and The Advesary's chatting, more intent upon the elusive Zephyrion than the other Gods. Which turned out to be to his detriment when he suddenly felt himself being pulled back. "Who the-"

And then everything exploded.

Vestec himself was thrown around like a rag doll, tossed about with utterly no control over his actions. He was laughing delightedly as he stopped spinning and the universe stopped exploding. "Oooh. A whole new world and universe to play with!" His hands clapped together excitedly. Then he realized there was nothing to do with it, until the Gods started adding things to it. "Oh. How boring."

His head turned to spot the various Gods examining the new world and he zeroed in on Vulamera. In an instant he was in front of her, colors flashing chaotically. "I'd protect myself, Inquisitive Goddess. Logos seems very possessive of the Codex of Creation. I'd be careful he doesn't try and forcibly rip it back. He might not be the only one either. Also..." Vestec giggled, his colors flashing even faster. "If you'd like another look inside my mind all you have to do is ask. Now if you'll excuse me I have to visit this new planet of Galbar."

With that, he leaned backwards and fell towards the planet. It was a surprisingly graceful and peaceful fall for one so chaotic. He landed on the surface of the planet as gently as a feather, scarcely raising a cloud of dirt. For a moment he was still, as if taking a breath and looking at the scenery (or lack thereof). He felt an itching, again. Only this time, it hurt. Like someone was trying to tear their way out of his body and claim freedom. Naturally, he fought it. He squirmed and struggled, fighting against whatever was inside of him. Vestec screamed, grasping out for something anything to stop the pain. His body surged with Chaotic energy and it exploded outwards, completely out of his control, a massive surge of pure chaos energy burning, tearing, and generally destroying the barren plains for miles around him.

The Shattered Plains had been created. But at least the pain had stopped. "That was...unexpected."

Vakarlon noted with irritation how quick Julkolfyr was to defy him and force a "gift" upon Slough. No matter, Slough grew more powerful and would be able to deal with such nuisances herself. He was however amused when Julkolfyr also made a "bid" to become King of the gods. Logos was foolish to dare try to claim such a title, if anyone could claim such a thing it was Fate or the Terrible One. To claim such a title would only serve to draw ire as Logos had no claim to it.

Vakarlon watched as his brethren fought, played and put themselves in harm's way. He noted with approval how Jvan had chosen to protect Slough. He noted Mammon's advice to Slough and thought it reasonable. He rolled his eyes at the posturing of Logos and Niciel. Ilunabar healed Jvan and Valleys considered an alliance with the two to protect Slough. Then he decided against it as it was not his nature and should Slough actually be threatened then many would rally to her aid. The forced gifts were more of a problem though. He hoped he wouldn't have to start with politics to resolve it.

Suddenly, the memories of fire and death that plagued him were back. They were accompanied by pain and remembered laughter. The laughter was cruel and deranged, cold and bloodthirsty. However, what disturbed him most was that the laughter was very similar to his own... He cleared his head through willpower and his mind changed to happier memories. He had had a family. He sensed this vaguely. Furthermore, it seemed that he had made a living by cheating the rich. Vakarlon cocked his head in confusion. He felt like a completely different person in these memories.

Sighing, Vakarlon decided he needed help with this. He wouldn't reveal the split set but he would approach Vulamera and talk with her about solving the mysteries of how they had gotten here. She seemed the most interested in such topics and thus the most helpful. Furthermore, she was much less inclined to political games than the others and was less likely to use this information in any way. Vakarlon decided he would speak to her at the first opportunity.

Suddenly, Vakarlon felt greatly energized. He felt incredible strength at work putting the Grand Plan into action. Fate and the Terrible One were doing the heavy lifting. A blinding light forced him to close his eyes. When he opened them everything felt different. In front of him was a planet. The world's name resonated through his being. Galbar. He looked closer and found it to be a barren world created by strife. No matter, there was potential here.

Thinking of his bad memories, he realized that they normally involved fire. As such, he created lands of ice and snow near the ends of the world. He walked through the frigid terrain and found it soothing. He then thought of the mortals that were to be. They would need shelter in their early years. With this in mind, he carved out halls and tunnels in the belly of the earth leading to the surface. The mortals could hide there until they became mightier.

With this done, he decided to rest and meditate for a while. So, he laid down in the snow and tried to achieve peace within himself. Eventually, he felt as if an undefined revelation had come to him that would make him stronger. Content with this feeling, he stood up and went to attend to matters.

Vakarlon sought out Vulamera. Once he found her, he emerged from the shadows and spoke. "Excuse me Vulamera, but may I have a word with you? I have been having these strange flashes of memory that seem to be from before this universe. I have come to you because you seem the most curious as to why we are here. Due to the nature of these memories, I feel it is in my best interests to learn as much as possible about this universe... and any that may have come before. Will you assist me?"

Vestec did not come. If he had, surely, Jvan would have fought with the traces and curls of light she had remaining, but that conclusion was an ugly prospect and she was glad it failed to pass. But, for what it was worth, others did.

Artisans, both, were Ilunabar and Kyre. Curators of a genre. The first to approach her, Jvan recognised, was one who had taken an altogether different form, bejewelled and unassuming. An elegant exterior that hid something perhaps not at all very different from the Horrorsome Engineer. An architect of diversity, of the interplay of chaos and order. A critic of such sculptures written not in flesh, but in time. each event a new brushstroke towards a whole. One to whom Jvan could share words of her true tongue. "Wait Not But For Blood, Muse, as These Heartstrings Strum to the Intrigue of Wounded Hymns. Yet Shall It Come to Pass of Us That Time's Arrow Finds a Mark, and On That Aeon We May Look Upon the Broken Face of Form and Find it Fabled." Ilunabar's eyes may have looked, but the extensive bodily harm of Toun's onslaught had clotted and was slowly shifting with the rest of Jvan's form. A wound, after all, is just a tattoo made in anger.

Kyre was a creature of a strange breed, another odd thing in a humanoid body that was perhaps less suited than something like her own. This was one who created, but did not govern. Who, like her, would stand against the extremes of destructive anarchy, only to let the agents of conflict evolve as they chose with the tools he could give. "If an artist dies for their work, Voice of the Sword, there will be no more. I will put myself through any colourless Hell to paint another day. And yet... The Rottenbone is precious to me, so your sword is comforting. Thank you, Kyre." Even creation would be hardly worth pursuing if Slough were to come to harm.

The Unborn was working, acting on the order of Logos, who saw only himself. It that called itself Vulamera had, perhaps, seen the error of its ways enough to take a form, but Jvan looked and beheld only the most pitiful blandness in all of possibility: A black sphere. It is... Progress, Unborn. Incomplete and without vision. You confuse me, but... I pray the skill that I know lies within your hands may one day be turned upon yourself. Greedily, the Mind God seized the canvas of creation into herself, protecting it at the cost of sealing it to further adjustments. Well, at least it was already complete. The Egg deserved that more. At least Mammon recognised its worth, as she knew he would.

Somewhere Ull'Yang's body was cracking, splitting, burning with a liquid furnace yet to be. It was the sign of the end. Jvan gazed once more upon the Egg, upon the Unborn and the blueprint hidden within it, upon the brilliant eye of Toun, upon every and any god, even Vestec; remembering their faces and wondering of the future. Then an unknowable force without a name summoned Jvan into itself, and into the Divine Manuscript.

For a little while, all was black.

But only for a little while.



The essence of existence beyond the pre-world, of having being within the compiled manifestation of all the work of the gods, was like the first, deep rush of air into a suffocating lung to Jvan. The All-Beauty laughed, and laughed, and laughed until the rich outburst of its joy reverberated through space and over the surface of Galbar in a powerful, pulsing thrum of light and radiation and waves that did not quite correspond to anything Logos had written into the world.

Jvan's body bulged and rippled, devouring space until it had increased in volume ten thousand fold, its deep carmine glow replenished and eager to play with the toy it had been promised. Somewhere a tiny, reflected portion of Ull'Yang's fire sizzled against her back, the sun of this planet buoying her onwards, and she collapsed, laughing still, onto the face of Galbar, smashing into its surface with the force of a large but sluggish meteor.

There her body lay, embedded into the stone at the centre of a crater, feeling everything. Air, flowing and churning and shimmering under the light of dawn. Earth, carrying her weight, locked into itself. Even her own disjointed little pockets of living flesh- How wonderful it was to see them in person as they had been on the Divine Manuscript! In time, surely, she would uncage some of them, sculpt them, let them come out to frolic with her in the new world. For now, Jvan was so overwhelmed the feeling of being surrounded by so much malleable matter, so much potential beauty, that, flesh or no flesh, gods or no gods, she could only create.

Jvan's essence reached into the body of Galbar and overruled its limp, mute will to be, flexing it like her own muscle in a myriad directions at once. Before her the earth and air quivered like a tear about to be shed, twisting and writhing in on itself, tightening. Soon it began to bleed. Briny water dripped and seeped from the planet, growing from thin traces of moisture to rivulets of liquid, and then to clouds and spouts of seething white. "Let the Dust of the Verdant Coil Such That the Quenching Becomes a Vice. Canvas of These Creeping Things, Be!"

The contorted world dissolved and disappeared under a blue medium. An immeasurable weight of water pooled outwards to the north, miles high, in a circle with Jvan as its tangent until it grew so vast that it was forced to bend itself around her, forming a cardioid. As soon as its growth began to slow and still, the ocean branched, extended, and pooled into smaller circles at regular intervals, and branched again, growing shallower with each iteration until on that first day of the inundation, even the grains of sand on the curved and jagged beaches held the self-similar pattern of shrinking curves.

The fractal sea covered more than a quarter of the surface of Galbar. Its most distant inlets cut through the equator and ran halfway up to the northern ice cap where Vakarlon lay, while the bays embroidering the southern edge of the bulk of its surface were cold enough to freeze in winter. To the north-east churned the Shattered Plains, already breaking up the patterns of the coast that reached them. Beneath the surface rested the broken bones of the earth that had yielded to produce it, an asymmetrical assortment of black trenches and odd mountains and arches in harsh contrast to the pristine surface.

The blue water gleamed in the morning sun, lapping and flowing around the body of Jvan at the very end of its long central peninsula, half-drowned, the lower chambers of her form entirely waterlogged. It was good. The ocean was beautiful. And with just the gentlest touch, it could become even better.

A deep green light spilled from the body of the Engineer, and like a single drop of dye diffusing into a puddle, the first life entered the universe. Tiny things, and tinier still, but each was crafted individually by a unique contortion of Jvan's interior, one trinket among many; Spheroids and beaded strings and three-sided caltrops, each only a single unit. They occupied a small fraction of the ocean, and even then, were thinly spread. A shadow of what the hatching of the Deer God would bring. But they would proliferate. This world will soon glisten with flesh.

More was coming, Jvan knew. She saw her creations in the chinks and cracks of the universe, where only a careful god could discern them, and she longed to bring them up and play with them, but soon Slough would come, and she would not pass up another chance to craft the decomposing, recomposing offspring of that god. Jvan allowed her light to dim, channelling it inwards, shifting the gears of her ever-shuffling core into overdrive. Her porous body tensed and tore under the strain, tendons snapping and whipping through the air, leaving cracks of sound in their wake, but they reconnected where they struck, and though Jvan's light began to flicker, it soon enough stabilised into a deeper, more intense radiance.

"Come, life," she invited. "Come, art. Thrive upon this world. Grow, change, die, and grow anew."

Like the complacent stone that weathers the wind of ages, worn down but not worn away by the cyclic advance of the tide, trod upon by beasts large and small, witness to days and nights innumerable, the split-second home of the booted foot of some landing conqueror or departing traveler, blind to the eons that slip by and deaf to the tireless song of nature, infinite in distance and unbound by death, the little egg lay during the conference of the gods. Following the performance of Illunabar, the universe itself seemed to be filled with a visceral, based form of song: the thrumming spirits of those who hovered in limitless black. So too did this tune change, rising up and dropping down, quickening in tempo as the gods quickened in temper, and for the grievous wounds of Jvan it served as a dirge. Slough would have marveled to hear it, if only she had ears to hear and a mind to know.

Of all the rage that threatened to squash the tiny but momentous speck that would be the advent of all true life in the universe, however, the paragon of purity proved most pernicious. While the spiteful and blindly selfish flames of Vestec failed to obliterate the plan for the universe, courtesy of the watchful eye and strong arm of the journeyman god, the searing lightwave of Niciel swept across the divine parchment and sent Slough's cocoon flying. If not for the awareness and preventative measures of Jvan to capture and protect the egg in a net of twisted flesh, she might have spiraled away into the darkness and been lost forever. Though Logos grouped Jvan with those who would ruin all of creation, the All-Beauty had been the only one to preserve life in a moment of violent contention among the universe's varied architects.

Even once the storm passed, however, the cocoon could not be laid back upon the plan. It remained in the shelter of Jvan and the shade of Kyre, who though cognizant of the risk could not have stopped Slough spinning away into forever had the All-Beauty not intervened. In order to preserve the great plan from the foolish gods like Vestec who would have sacrificed an eternity of delightful chaotic meddling for the mere moment of outrageous joy it would take to incinerate the parchment, the formless mind enveloped it within herself. Slough knew none of it, yet the cocoon seemed to pulse faintly. A god might take it for an omen that a great thing was about to happen—or for nothing at all.

Between the odd, tendril-laden lattice formed by Jvan, there came the touch of another one who cared. Through the protective shell, the life-force seemed to gravitate toward Mammon's hand, as a critter in a pet shop might to the face of a child staring, entranced, through the storefront glass. No power passed into the cocoon, and no words discernible to a bestial mind, but all the same the curled-up ghoul felt something. And she would remember the touch.

Shortly thereafter, there came the light.

It dazzled Slough, confusing and frightening the beast within the cocoon. No moment in the history of the universe would ever surpass this moment of being. Inspired by the guiding light of resplendent Ull'Yang, a billion stars burned into existence. According to the decree of the disharmonious plan, the universe gave forth vast quantities of barren stone, various temperatures, precise natural laws, and infinitely more. In this moment, the force of electromagnetism was perfectly tuned so that the protons of over a hundred elements could be held together and not blown apart. This moment decided that one dimension of time would exist, so things could happen sequentially. This moment decided that the cosmological constant for gravity would be astonishingly close to zero, so that atoms couldn't be ripped apart by the ferocious expansion of a positive-constant universe or that the universe wouldn't last for a fraction of a second thanks to a negative constant. The vacuum expectation value would determine the masses of the fundamental particles in nature, so that atoms could properly exist. All this and more was decreed by the great plan, so that the universe would be perfectly palatable for life.

No sooner had there existed a planet beneath the assembly of gods than the egg began to fall. It slipped through the tendrils of Jvan, perhaps forgotten in her awe of the universe's inception, and drifted toward the barren gray sphere at a steady pace. It felt slowly; slow enough so that Vestec could descend first and wreck havoc on a portion of the surface with his struggle for self-assertion; slow enough so that Vakarlon could descend, blanket the extremes of the world in cold, find solace in the refreshing chill, and carve on a whim a huge and intricate system of openings beneath the ground; slow enough so that Jvan could descend, engorged, and create a vast expanse of water in a scintillating pattern.

By then, however, the cocoon entered the atmosphere. It rocketed down through the air, reacting to the fresh gas and gaining an aura of rippling green, and comet-like the egg cannoned into the surface of Galbar. Its force broke through the surface into a huge underground cavern created by Vakarlon, shattering its ceiling to make a basin several miles in diameter. Gradually, the stone and dust settled, some of it changed by the life aura into nutritious dirt. On a pile of dirt in this huge basin Slough's egg lay, irreparably damaged by the fall.

Then it cracked.

An explosion of green energy washed over the entire basin, pouring from inside the egg like light from a star. Rich green grass sprang from the soil. Trees shot up, small at first but growing at an incredible pace with no sign of stopping. Higher and higher they soared, thick and sturdy. Some failed in their mission and broke apart, becoming multiple snakelike branches slithering through the towering forest like walkways. Only when the remaining trees crested and then left behind the lip of the basin did they begin to stop growing upward and start growing leaves. A blotch of green appeared, visible from orbit, a forest that stretched from beneath the surface to scratch the sky. It was the Deepwood.

The bark did not, however, remain flawless. Throughout the Deepwood, green pustules began to push through. These growths, surrounded in membranes, kicked and shook as the life energy within them took form. In very short order, the growths burst, releasing a variety of living creatures to disperse through the forested basin. Not much light penetrated the canopy; many of these beasts sported acute night vision, their own sources of light, or no eyes at all. Less fantastical creatures existed also, though they were no less splendid. Some would eat plants; some would eat one another.

If she had eyes, Slough's eyes would have opened as she stood, shakily, on her feet. She looked up into the towering trees, and spotted tiny dots of sunlight. Her skeletal jaws opened to suck in air as she remembered to breath. Then, the rotting beast bent her neck down to nibble at the grass.

In one moment Zephyrion had been engaged in play, and in the next that noble lord of Change and the Winds found himself enveloped with energy and swept along in a gale not of his making. Primal energies abounded and surged everywhere; he relished and absorbed them just as a withered plant was nourished by the rains. Existing in a dormant state of bliss while the swirls and tides of energy washed over him, he at last began to awaken to a hazy, half-lucid state. Billions of years had passed since that first Big Bang: nebulae of gases had coalesced into stars, and many of those first balls of plasma had already gorged themselves, lived their short lives, and finally died in great explosions. Planets and newer stars had already formed from the remnants of those ancients.

Zephyrion was vaguely aware of the presence of an unimaginably vast universe. The pinpoints of light from distant stars carpeted their way through the inky black void and stretched all the way around one's vision. The other gods were quick to move, scurrying here or there, most of them heading towards that empty planet below. Like moths, they were attracted to the first light that they saw. Zephyrion personally saw no appeal in visiting that barren rock. In truth, nothing held much appeal to him now; he was content merely to observe. The mere twinkling of the distant starlight in all its beauty was enough to content him, that simple and subtle change in brightness more beautiful than anything else. Though it had seemed inconsequential, he realized that his involvement in righting those flawed blueprints had been the entire purpose of his creation. By lending his power and that energy of Change into that divine parchment, he had created all of this.

The tempest that was Zephyrion floated above Galbar contemplating beauty and his existence for many millions of years. The air that he conjured from the emptiness of space was flung back out into the void, and much it fell back down to the planet below. Over the course of some time, it accumulated and created an atmosphere rich in elemental oxygen and hydrogen. Much of that hydrogen eventually reacted to form the first droplets of fresh water that would rain down from the skies. While the other gods scurried down on the surface like ants and did as they wished, Zephyrion remained in solitude up there for many a millennium. Time currently held little meaning, after all. Eventually, he grew bored of that and his long apathy ended.

If his purpose had already been fulfilled, then why did he still exist? At first he had thought that it was his reward: the ability to watch as the Change that he had created worked in a million different ways to create this breathing, dynamic universe. But what was the point in merely being a silent observer? His powers had only grown now that the Change that he commanded was so omnipresent; his role was not done! He would continue to exist, bringing Change whenever and wherever he pleased, as befit a Supreme Being of his nature. What else was one to do for amusement?

In the very instant that he had arrived to that grand conclusion, he began to impulsively move. No longer content to simply travel in circles around the sun with Galbar, lightly swirling high above in its skies, the mighty storm raced through space. Faster than light he traveled, the gases that had whirled in his stormy form giving way to create pure energy. As a beam of heavenly lightning he shot through the sky, passing by a thousand galaxies in every moment. At last he stopped in this place, having left Galbar and all his siblings far behind.

He examined his surroundings briefly, finding himself amidst another solar system not so different from the one that he had left. In space around him he could sense the presence of a dozen planets circling this star. A dozen new toys! He looked at one of those barren rocks and suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to destroy it. Giggling, he decided to test his power. He willed into existence a small spark, then coaxed it into growing into a larger, snaking, writhing bolt of lightning. Holding it like a spear, Storm's King plunged it downwards into the planet below, impaling the rock with that lance of pure energy. There was a massive spark, and an unimaginably strong bolt of lightning flew from high above down to the surface of the planet and struck it with untold amounts of power. Its great explosion vitrified stone and scattered fragments of stone high into the air, some flying for hundreds of miles before returning back to the planet. But still the planet remained, relatively unscathed! Flustered, Zephyrion realized that not even he was so powerful as to destroy an entire planet so easily. The revelation that there was something that he couldn't do was infuriating. Regardless, he would not allow that rock to best him! One day he would return and reduce it to a thousand splinters of rock, then hurl them into the sun...

Until that day came, he would have to wait and grow stronger. He quickly memorized the precise location of that place, then returned to Galbar before the taunting, marred surface of that planet tormented him any further. In a fit of anger, he transformed into a mighty gust and slammed into Galbar. Laughing as his collision hurled a great deal of matter into space and left the planet spinning wildly, he then realized that this particular planet was already being played with by a few of the other gods. Suddenly feeling guilty, he decided that they might be saddened if he left their toy in such a broken state. He took the time to stabilize the planet somewhat and stop it from spinning so wildly, but he left its axis with a slight tilt. Galbar had circled around its sun many times whilst Zephyrion had been struggling to calm its frenzied dance, and he had seen how that tilt had brought about winters and summers as each side had a different angle to the sun throughout the year. The icy tundras created by Vakarlon expanded and receded throughout the year with the variance in temperature, and the varying levels of sunlight and energy across the surface led to the movement of air in great winds. Those small, dynamic changes pleased him, and so he left it as a permanent touch to the world that could only add to its beauty.

Niciel was reprimanded once again by Julkolfyr, but this time Niciel felt no regret by her actions. She had done what she had to before the quarreling between everyone could have gotten too far. Fortunately, things began to calm down, and everyone went their separate ways. Relieved to see everyone no longer fighting as horribly anymore, Niciel returned her form back to normal appearance, a long flowing dress and 2 wings instead of 6. There was no longer a need for that form for now, anyway.

Then, there came the event that began everything. Fate and Amul'Sharar had taken the Codex of Creation and acted upon it. The resulting outcome was extraordinary. Before Niciel knew it, she found herself with the other beings around a barren and lifeless planet. Niciel looked around further, and found a large, blazing star. Returning her attention to the planet, Niciel was pleased to see the others working in harmony to make the planet beautiful. She herself had also gone down to the surface to observe the events that were taking place. A large of body of water was formed by Jvan, as well as a forest full of life by Slough. Even Vestec's Shattered Plains were... interesting, in their own way.

Niciel wished to make everyone's creations even more wonderful and beautiful, but she knew that that wasn't what everyone wanted, nor was it her place to do so. Instead, she moved to claim a location of her own. Niciel found a location that had yet to be touched by the gods' powers, and used her power to raise the earth, creating a large mountain range. The earth rose bit by bit, until it finally looped back to its starting point and formed a circle. Finally, Niciel covered the entire mountain range with her power, creating a pink-and-yellow mist that partially shrouded the mountains and kept the the area in a state of peace and tranquility. Niciel rose up into the sky to observe her creation. It was far from perfect, or even finished, but to her, it was beautiful.

One moment she had been made to play and she was enjoying herself. The next, everything exploded.

So much for the Order some of the other Gods cried about and even fought for, Astarte thought as the extreme forces of the explosion threatened to dissolve her into nothingness. She had to grow stronger just to survive.

Things were very interesting for the longest time, with the previous nothingness of the Empty Void turning into a beautiful Void filled with Actual Stuff. Her family, upon noticing the planet that had formed near them, started interacting with it in ways she hadn't thought of. One covered the planet in ice and cold. The other formed a body of water, the other brought life into existence...

It wasn't long before Astarte thought she should join in on the fun, but what should she do? It's not like the life on the planet was interested in doing anything other than eat, sleep and reproduce. And the rest of the planet was devoid of anything other than loneliness.

And then it clicked: That animal Goddess, Slough (@Lugubrious) --The one that the others were so interested in pre-existence! It didn't seem too smart or too interested in the other Gods, so what would happen if Astarte exposed it to her magic? Maybe she could scare the Goddess into going to the Shattered Plains and creating life to fill that place up! That'd certainly be interesting.

It took Astarte a great deal of stealth and energy to hide her approach from Slough, but eventually she was hiding in a bush right next to the skeletal Goddess. Clad in a dress made of leaves, branches and very sharp predator teeth, Astarte jumped out of the bush.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEIUIUIUAAAHHHLII!" Astarte screamed, waving her arms around and stomping the ground with her feet.

Hopefully that would be enough to scare the bones out of Slough and make her run away and into the Plains. It was a long run to the Plains, though, so Astarte was ready and willing to keep scaring Slough until she reached the place.