The sky was bruised red and black. Sickly clouds scabbed the wounded atmosphere and the sounds of battle shook the air. Dust clinged low to the cobbled ground and siphoned upwards into every breath. The courtyard was painted the same colors as the sky, blood splattered from fallen soldiers. Between the stone walls of the palace complex, mobs of enemies fought in an endless flood. White armor was caked in dirt and clean steel was already rusting from gore. Ears popped and the nose revolted as the struggle forever pushed closer and closer to the steps at the far end of the open courts.

Sitting silently at the top of the steps was a node, a black cylinder of a glossy and alien material that contrasted the alabaster palace that protected it. It was ten meters wide and stood as tall as a regular man, or at least what could be seen of it. Beneath the flagstones, beneath the stairs, beneath the palace and the very earth itself, the cylinder stretched endlessly.

Standing between the node and those who had come to take it stood two figures, panting and tired. One stood taller than the other, and her voice was calm and collected despite the scene. She wore the armor of a queen, in splendid whites and pure creams. Her right hand didn’t stand as tall as her, and his face was twisted with anxiety, eyes bouncing over the enemy lines that pushed ever closer.

“Stop fretting,” the Queen cooled, her voice more compassionate than demanding. This only served to twist her Champion’s face even more.

“How can I?” Was all the Champion managed. “Time is almost up.”

“And we’ve almost won,” the Queen added. “Don’t fret, Peninal”

The air suddenly fell still. Peninal squinted, the battle still raged in front of him but he couldn’t hear it. His sword shook in his hand, he could feel something curdle in his stomach. He exhaled, and his breath came out in a frigid cloud. Snapping his eyes over to Queen Olipha, he saw her breath was condensed as well, ears still silent. Despite her attitude, he could see concern entering her visage. Her lips moved. No sound.

A ring blasted in his ears as sound came rushing back. It came back as an explosion erupted over the fighting. Clouds of frozen air plumed from the battlefield and icy wind punched into the soldiers, friend and foe alike. Frozen gore burst from the wounds and cries of pain challenged the eruption. Hail started to fall from the sky, plunking off of metal and Peninal grit his teeth.

“He’s here.”

The ground shook again and one of the courtyard walls began to collapse, summoning a tsunami of dust and debris. Fighting slowed as casualties started to grow and from the clouds of ice and dust came two terrible eyes. A figure made of shadows and ice came gliding through the mess, the eyes stuck on his otherwise nondescript face. Soldiers of white charged him, but each exploded into mists of hail and gore before they could get close enough. Peninal tightened his grip on his blade and took a step forward.

“Peninal!” Olipha barked, stopping him mid step. Before he could ask what she intended, the Queen stepped past her Champion.

“My queen, what are you doing?”

“Hold, Shadowed One!” Olipha ignored Peninal, her words shooting at the approaching figure. “You’ve already lost, the end of the crucible is nigh — all this death is in vain!”

Peninal could hear the anger seep into her words. “You have nothing to gain here! You have nothing!”

“No…” Garravar’s voice came like a winter’s breath. “I have nothing to gain… but you have everything to lose.”

Olipha raised her spear and Peninal raised his sword, but both were too slow. A blade of ice had formed in Garravar’s hands and was already shooting past Olipha’s guard. The Queen’s armor rent with a scream and the blade plunged into her chest.

Peninal’s eyes widened in shock, pupils shaking with fear. His sword slipped from his hand and clattered on the courtyard floor. Garravar’s eyes snapped to him and he could feel the unseen grin grow on his enemy’s face.

“Brother of Yargindal, Peninal the Coward,” Garravar goaded. “I see you were forced in his place, how foolish.”

A pause. A pulse of red waved across the sky, as if it were a beating heart. Garravar pointed a crooked finger upwards. “The triggering event is nearly here and… all the nodes do not belong to one…. anymore. “ Peninal could still feel that grin.

“What do you think will happen?”

Peninal looked down at his Queen, the blood leaking out of her chest now pooling around her lumped form. His fingers were shaking, and he could feel adrenaline in his veins.

“You better run, Little Peninal,” Garravar’s voice came again. “Before the triggering event makes a fool of you and your beloved.”

Against his will, or so it seemed, Peninal started to back up, his boots guiding him up the stairs. His eyes were stuck on Olipha as he climbed towards the node. Garravar himself started slowly approaching, forcing Peninal to walk faster and faster, until he was nearly running backwards up the stairs. The sky pulsed.

“You’ll have to be faster than that…” Garravar almost laughed. “Come, isn’t this what you and your fellowship desired? Isn’t this the fruits of your labors? Go on, the nodes await your will, Peninal.”

The champion’s back bumped off of the node, he had gone as far as he could. His hand touched the cold glossy surface. Garravar stood just in front of him, only a few feet out and at the top of the stairs. Peninal’s hand that touched the node began to glow.

“Let’s hope you can claim it fast enough,” Garraval stepped forward. “Do you think you can?”

Ice started to form around Garraval’s spear, putting a toothed edge on the blade of the weapon and serrating its deadly angles. “Olipha was awfully silent, Yargindal was awfully loud, where do you think you will fall?”

Peninal opened his mouth but then closed it.

Garravar tilted his head. “Hm? You have words?”

Peninal could feel it in his chest as he opened his mouth again, but only a squeak escaped.

“I suppose you don’t,” Garravar leveled his spear and placed the frozen tip on Peninal’s chestplate.

“You…” Peninal found his voice and Garravar cocked his head

“You… will fall.”

Gore exploded from both of Peninal’s hands and his finger bones erupted and shattered. The cloud of blood snapped back to his arms in the shape of a glistening blade and with one swift movement, he slammed the bloody weapon into Garravar’s stomach. A hoarse grunt came from the enemy, only to turn into a croaking chuckle.

“F-fast…”

The sky pulsed.

The node started to glow.

Peninal started to glow.

The sky pulsed.

---

In the center of a great green valley sat a node. The node was a strange cylinder of an even stranger glossy black material. By all means it was indestructible and sat a great many meters above the ground. It was about ten wide and as far as anyone knew, it stretched infinitely below the ground, never to be dug up or removed.

Above this scene was a blue sky, the only blue sky present on the crucible. The rest of the lands outside of this node’s valley were shrouded in a bruised red and black atmosphere, scarred with chaotic storms and unstable elements. But here in these lands, birds sang without care and primitive humans opened their eyes for the first time.

The only thing that contrasted the valley was a god, a god clad in broken armor. He sat against the node, breathing heavily and painted in his own blood. Both his hands were missing and slowly leaked gore flaked with frost. His chest heaved, and as his eyes opened to witness the faces of the gods who would be taking over this new crucible, he groaned.

“I have failed…” Peninal’s words were low and pitiful. He let his head fall back onto the node, his vision drifting upwards to the sky above. He winced in pain and swallowed a dry throat. Licking his lips, he started again, his voice cracked.

“Listen quickly…” He found confidence in the moment, his life barely clinging. “You have to collect all the nodes before the next triggering event, the next end times.” A groan. “The nodes will bend to the will of whoever collected them all… make sure they have a strong will… unlike my own. Touch my head, you will have my knowledge of the nodes... I can’t…”

His voice trailed and his eyes started to grow dim. “I can’t hold…”

A dribble of blood began to run out of the corner of his mouth. “I can’t…”

Peninal’s chest stopped moving and his voice fell silent. His face stayed frozen as if he had something to say still, but any who looked in his glassy eyes knew he was no longer there. Peninal had died, and yet you all were born…

Beside the dead Peninal sits a stone pedestal, upon it an interactive map of the world, and behind him stands the only stable node this world has.

---

She approached the fallen god, and placed her palm upon his head, slowly caressing his hollowed cheeks and cleansing his broken and bloodied body with her nascent powers. Though she could not truly mend his armor, she could adorn him in attire appropriate of his heroic acts and sacrifices, so she conjured exquisite garb which appeared on him, and she laid him properly upon a pedestal, wherein she shut his eyes as she murmured a prayer. "May you find peace and joy, wherever you have gone..."

Her mind held thoughts and memories that were too much for her to comprehend at once, and she sought a moment of respite, away from the responsibility and grief she felt where she could collect and calm herself. The gentle touch of the wind upon her skin and feathers eased her concerns and soothed her hurting heart - though this world was pervaded by pain and sorrow upon conception, there was also hope and love... and Monica knew that it was her role to protect those that would preyed upon by the violent and avaricious. She could see the collection of humans waking, and hear the bird chirping, and the endless clear sky above reminded her of all the potential this virgin world possessed. Let there be artists and geniuses that create wondrous works and concepts, she internally proclaimed.

As her wings spread out, she turned to face the other gods and goddesses, and she introduced herself. "My name is Monica, it is a pleasure to meet with all of you."

She remained rather unfamiliar with greetings, etiquette, as well as prolonged conversations, and immediately averted her gaze after addressing the other divine with such a blithe manner when the world was on the verge of ruin, or so it seemed. The triggering event would come unless they came together to prevent it, so Monica let out a breath she did not realize she had been holding, and focused on what she must do.

Outside the idyllic realm wherein they had awakened alongside humanity, born anew, the remainder of reality was rife with tumultuous chaos that would not allow life to thrive. The nodes were the keys to creating a peaceful world, and she must reach them. "I, hmm... want to make a peaceful world, will you help me?" She swiftly asked as she peered at the nearby node that provided a map of the known world, where the other nodes could be found, before looking at each of the divine present and awaiting their answers.

Existence was sudden and without warning, the world was, and so were the gods. Among the circle of deities stood a figure clad in darkness, her first movement being to raise her hand above her eyes so she could peak at those around her and the surrounding landscape.





Existence was painful too, proof of that was that tragedy had been the opening act of this world. A god much older and wiser than them laid there, dying, without a hand to comfort him in his final moment. Dzallitsunya felt her heart sink at the sight, yet she could do little but to move the hand that shaded her eyes from the sun over her mouth, hiding a gasp. She was frozen in place, feeling cold and overwhelmed, her mind lost.

Then came Monica, the first of the newly made deities to step in and act, first and foremost giving the fallen deity a proper rest, then taking the lead in presenting herself and making the wishes of the fallen god clear. To the dark goddess Monica stood in there like a true monument, imposing but also inspiring, making Dzallitsunya's unsure soft heart feel both a rush of courage and shame in her own hesitation.

With gentle and careful steps, the shadow clad deity stepped closer to the centre, it took her so long however that another god flew in, and put to words what Tsunya was already thinking.

"Indeed!" she chimed. "It is almost like it is a trick or a test, no? The wording implies conflict, but when the time comes if there is a conflict the world will be destroyed. Yet, if we all work together, we can guarantee a gentle existence. A god has to control the nodes but it doesn't mean the other gods have to be gone, we could form a council and elect someone for the task of overseeing the nodes, someone like Monica, yes?" the dark goddess shared with a genuine smile, not believing she had spoken so much at once and immediately regretting her wording and phrasing. Not that it mattered, they were all siblings and the situation seemed clear in her mind, why would anyone oppose this? They could prosper where others failed, and build a peaceful gentle world together.

“OH my sweet younger sister!” An angelic voice coddled. The sing-song sound had come from a goddess who stood beside the head of Peninal. It was unclear when she had moved there, but there she stood, taking her hands off the head of the dead god and clasping them at her waist. She stood like a calla lily, dressed in flowing white, with creme colored hair (just as long) to match, and eyes that looked like chamomile flowers by the pupil: alabaster around mellow gold.

Her name was Benea and she held a small pouting smile on a gentle face, as if something pitiful had happened or as if Monica had scraped her knee. She shook her head so gently, her hair barely shifted. “How awful of the little black bird to put you in such a spot.”

Benea stepped beside her declared younger sister and pressed her shoulder against Monica’s as she addressed the bird, as if showing some sort of sistership. Even though her words were aimed at Tael, her eyes couldn’t help but glance at the others.

“Don’t you know?” She started simply. “Following the simple task of our fallen friend will paint you a clear picture of the error of your words.” A white smile.

“My dearest Monica is unable to do as you said, in fact most of us are, and how dare somebody push sweet Monica to such a position. Don’t you know why? Haven’t you heard?”

A pause.

“Why the crucible isn’t as forgiving and kind as our dearest, and will pervert and manipulate even the kindest hearts, stamping the world with a corrupted will no matter the intention. No, taking all the nodes and holding it until the triggering event is one thing, but the world will still be just as doomed unless the beholder has something my sweet Monica is lacking: an insurmountable will and clear and ordered plan. Such a strong and unyielding sense of how things should be and the will to back it up are one of the only few things that can survive the triggering event.”

She shook her head at Tael again. “But you likely just didn’t know, so don’t be ashamed. I’m sure most of us here were unaware of such a fact — how perverted of the nodes — I understand.”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh but since you had brought it up!” Turning to the others, her grin grew wide. “Let us start such an order, and place a well unmovable will at the fore…. And don’t you fret.” Benea gripped Monica’s shoulder. “Our beloved will still be a happy participant in the greater order.”

Within the first minute of coming into being, disagreements and struggle about who should be in charge had began. While he was sure that others would quickly jump in and naturally playful debate would turn into bitter arguments and brutal warfare that would last until the end that their creator had predicted, Vatarr instead quietly walked up to the body of their fallen... Father? Predecessor?

The horned skull of his head tilted slightly as he pondered the question for a moment before he reached out to press two of his fingers against the corpses forehead, their eyes closing for just a moment as the knowledge that the dead god had wished to share was passed onto him, making it three deities with access to it. Ignoring the conversation happening behind him for the moment, he gazed down at the dead god with an unreadable expression, sorting through the rather complex feelings they felt for the stranger that was their creator.

Bowing his head as a third finger was pressed against the head of the deceased, Vatarr closed their eyes in quiet respect and mourning, there was a small build up of their divine power before it faded away, leaving no trace of what it might have been used for before he brushed his fingers away as he turned and grinned as he stepped towards his fellows. "Come now. It's not as if the world is coming to an end right this minute. We have time for everyone who desires to make their case as to why we should follow them to step forward and do so. While clearly Monica and... he paused for a moment as his head tilted, looking at the 'older sister' for a moment before finishing in a playful tease "Whoever the old hag is have already stepped forward, I'm sure there are others who wish to step forwards and speak up."

Anak'thas

Anak’thas didn’t let his hand linger on Peninal’s head for long. The knowledge coursed through him for but a second before his divine mind placed it all neatly down as a framework that was already growing in his mind. His eye of light strayed towards the globe sitting on a nearby stone pedestal. With the knowledge of his fallen progenitor, Anak’thas knew what was shown to him. With his staff, he began to move across the little points that marked the nodes. Each place was already given a purpose. Farms, libraries, schools, fortresses, watchtowers. Like a living organism his grand design was already spreading across the world in his mind.

“The world is but a barren wasteland.” He said out loud as his singular, light eye stayed focused on the representation of the world. “We will need time to rebuild it before the coming doom.” Then he turned to face his siblings, specifically looking at the horned entity who insulted perhaps the only one of his siblings who spoke an ounce of sense today. “So we do not have the luxury to wait. We should act, and fast.” Then the gaze of his singular mote of light moved towards Monica. “Forgive me sister but compassion alone will not be enough to stave off certain doom. This world needs order and stability.”

His form of wispy robes moved beside the sister who spoke second. “I – Anak’thas – support you sister. Our knowledge and wisdom set us apart from our siblings. Together we will save this world. I am sure of this.”

I

Out of the thickest part of the foliage surrounding the group emerged a figure. The constant scraping of metal rings against each other and the shifting and rubbing of thick leathers rung out across the clearing. Steamy breath filtered through the figure's metallic visor, the shiny surface covered in a fresh coat of red. That same red dripped off the figure's arms and onto the new ground, and flowed freely from the small rodent's head that the figure held in its hand.

It took its time walking up to the group, half of its attention focused on inspecting the small trophy and then tying it with a rudimentary rope to its spear.

With that done, the figure let out a feminine sigh of contentment and fumbled with its metallic helmet's clasp. It took it a few long seconds but once the clasp was undone, it slid the helmet off to reveal the placid visage of a battle-hardened woman. A quick sweep of the group with her brown eyes later and she found herself smirking and walking up to the corpse of the Ancient, narrowly avoiding bumping into her fellows until she came to be in front of the body.

With seemingly practiced moves, she stuck her hand inside the Ancient's mouth and heaved. A sickening crack echoed from the sacred pedestal, followed by another crack and a small pained yelp, and finalized by the ruffling of leathers as the warrior woman put away her newest trophies in one of her many pockets. Almost unconsciously, she let her mind sort out the flood of divine information that had assaulted it upon coming into contact with the Ancient's head.

She then wiped the sweat off her brow, accidentally slathering blood all over her face in the process, and faced the rest of the Gods present. "Hey, name's Eleanna. I'm itching to get started, so don't mind me. The Ancient's head is full of maggots by the way, in case anyone's hungry."

With that said Eleanna huffed with a smile on her face and went up to the node, placing her bloodied hand against it and causing it to glow.

Brey
The wizard god's hands were over the skull, particularly the back end. Muttering a quick exasperation under his breath, he took the skull in his hands, careful to avoid any maggots that may have made their way out of the eye sockets. Ideas of what he should do at this moment flowed through his mind. It appeared as if he were scrying over the skull, as if it were a crystal ball. Withdrawing his hands from the skull, he looked towards the other gods.
"Oh dear." Were the only words that Brey managed to let go from his breath.

Bright light bled through the serpents eyelids and soaked into his scales as he listened to the words of his dying creator and the subsequent babble of his peers. Through it all the serpent, Asvarad, thought. Over and over he considered turning away from the group before it devolved into violence, as it would, but the ‘gift’ of knowledge within the elder gods fading corpse, corrupted or not, held him back. To flee would be wise, but to remain ignorant would be the action of a fool.

Decided, Asvarad allowed his eyes to flutter open and beheld the world. The valley’s verdant grasses swaying in the gentle wind, the dark node, those curious upright animals, and last of all the others of his own get. He slithered towards the elder god’s corpse as the others crowded it. Every movement was ponderous, and though the serpent felt the strength of his body and the speed at which he could strike, he could not help but find himself wanting. More than that, look at the others: reflections of the animals in the valley below with few exceptions.

They were all so limited. The feeling only grew as the vast serpent all but pushed the others out of the way as he cautiously pressed the tip of his snout against the elder god’s dead forehead. Knowledge washed over him, and Asvarad began to laugh. A deep, thrumming, laughter that vibrated the ground around him and caused his bulk to shake in dark mirth. He pulled himself up, and began to tower over the others before speaking in a voice akin to his laugh, “Blind. All but the little grey one, blind. Quibbling over who must rule a trap. Poisoning and looting the only source of knowledge which could permit our escape."

The serpent had eyed them as he spoke, and it was in the most vocal that he perceived the greatest weakness. In truth, he perceived the weakness in speech itself. Plodding, slow, and aggravating. It only made sense, why allow prisoners anything but the most rudimentary form of communication? Well, some things could be corrected. With a moments focus the serpent worked upon its very mind, and when it spoke again it was an echo in the minds of others. More refined, clearer and less animalistic, but certainly with the same contempt, “Jump to play your fell game if you must, I will first understand it.”

He awoke for the first time, sitting cross legged and adorned with naught but a loincloth, and beheld his dying creator. Listened to his final words, and understood in part the tragedy of war and servitude that had led to his end.

The red skinned god rose slowly onto his bare feet and softly approached the dead creator to receive his wisdom before then moving to the other object of interest in the area. The map. Resting a hand on its side he instinctively moved the other to his chin and found he had a goatee. A grin flashed across his lips before he began to stroke it contemplatively as some of the others spoke to repeat that mistake, to raise one above them all based on nothing but words.

The only deed done was by Eleanna, who brazenly walked up and started the very slow process of capturing the claimed node. Xavior did not intervene with that, not yet. There was plenty of time till the deed was done after all.

Opposed to her foolish recklessness was the paranoid wisdom of the serpent who assumed the entire enterprise to be a trap, though of an entirely different sort that had led the others along the path of peace.

”A fair point, if rudely put” he said to the snake, before introducing himself and saying his (lengthy) piece ”My name is Xavior, and I believe that to rush into things when there is no need to do so would be foolish. Yes, there is an unspecified ending approaching, but it will take time to stabilize the world regardless, which gives us time to think. To learn to know ourselves and of the nature of this world and ’game’ we have been thrust into. Or are we so arrogant as to think we can decide the fate of reality while having seen only a fraction of it,” he gestured a hand down to the map, and then out towards the wilds around them, most specifically at the closest group of humans who were wearily spectating this discussion from afar ”and before having even met its people?”

”I propose, rather than attempting to elect a singular claimant right this moment, we instead simply swear a pact of peace, and then strike out and claim this reality. Improve it. Make it a place worth living until the end comes to pass. And in doing so, prove through what you make that your vision for the next world has worth, and through your deeds that your word can be trusted” they were strangers after all, who could say if their words were true or canny manipulations? Time, he hoped, would expose the liars as what they were, and let the reliable shine through the mire of doubt.

”Then once the world is stabilized, we return here, and then elect an architect of the new world if no way of escaping the confines of the game has been discovered” he said, leaving the map behind as he spoke while strolling casually towards the node. Once there he gave it a casual flick to reset Eleanna’s capture progress as the creator’s wisdom had informed him it would.

He made no attempt to stake his own claim beyond that momentary disruption however and instead simply walking away with a confident stride while saying ”and until that time this node should remain in the hands of our creator, declared neutral ground, and ruin betide any who brake the sanctity of his claim without the consent of the rest”

His pact proposed, he once again stood behind the map and asked the others ”Your thoughts? Oh and if you could make a show of hands if you agree with that last point, I think that might allow us to resolve Eleanna’s overstep in a coordinated fashion”

Lamarck was cautious when approaching the dead god, unsure if the corpse contained some poison or trickery. After observing the other gods meddle with it, he brushed his scaled hand against it. After receiving the divine knowledge and stepping away to look at the corpse, he supposed there was some small honor in outliving the world that had birthed him. It was almost a shame that he was too weak to capitalize upon the opportunity.

He listened to the other gods petty and inconsequential words. The horned one was correct that a god's character would be revealed through there creation, but was deluded that the next world would not be forged in blood and ichor. He did not dismiss cooperation so easily. He saw no great need to be the one to conquer all thirty-five nodes, but he would not surrender the prize to the weak and cowardly.

The goddess with the squirrel headed spear showed immediate potential, but she was unrefined and brash. She had drawn unwanted attention to herself by so brazenly reaching for power when there was so much empty territory left to be claimed. Perhaps only in hindsight could he judge her haste.

The other gods seemed to bicker about peace, revealing the inherent fragility of the concept. He could tell which voices were sincere, but it did not matter. It would be advantageous to assume they were all liars rather than fools.

---

"Ah, I am unworthy... I am afraid I lack the necessary characteristics of one whom commands; I am not wise, nor am I charismatic. I cannot fully articulate the nature of my hopes and dreams... I just want to help everyone find love and joy. Please accept my apology, as it was not my intention to disappoint any of you." She had said to Tael and the unnamed deity that suggested she take the mantle of leadership, after recovering from the surprise of such an idea, and averting her gaze in shame and sorrow.

Confusion clashed with remorse in Monica's mind as she pondered the words of her self-proclaimed sister, uncertain whether they truly shared a sibling bond, and slightly concerned that she may have potentially missed hearing the name of this ethereal goddess so close to her, so she spoke softly. "Beloved? Sister? Do you speak truly? We are a family?" She asked and looked at the one that held onto her, hoping that this world wouldn't betray her, that the happiness in her heart would stay with her.

However Xavior's mention of the mortals nearby made Monica mortified upon the realization that they would also be responsible for those that were innocent and incapable of standing against the tides of chaos that raged across the rest of the world without the aid of the Divine. She hid her humiliation behind a calm visage, and gestured to the number of humans that gathered in this verdant land. "We should each choose specific nodes to stabilize, as well as protect these mortals that are like children." Monica reaffirmed, and raised her hand in agreement with the horned god. Her other hand hesitantly sought out her sister's - should her affection be reciprocated, she knew she wouldn't let go.

Completely ignoring any negative responses to his playful ribbing of the self proclaimed 'eldest' of the deities among them and glancing towards the serpent that had decided that talking was a waste of time and decided to merely project their thoughts into the heads of others, Vatarr merely shrugged indifferently as they turned away from the ongoing conversation and walked over to the map in question... before reaching out and tapping one of the nodes with his finger and nodding his horned head to himself.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm feeling inspiration surge and a need to go and create something before it slips away. You're all invited of course to come and visit and in turn I so look forward to seeing what you all make. Until next time, take care!" While the departure southwards was rather sudden, the joyous and jolly tone as Vatarr walked away suggested an earnestness behind his words; He honestly was looking forward to seeing what others created, just as he wanted them to stop by sometime to see what he had made in turn.

"Of course." Benea's eyes softened on Monica, her smile crinkling the edges of her visage. She gave Monica's hand a gentle pat. "How could I be anything but your sister?"

Turning from Monica and looking up at the node, Benea pinched her chin in thought — a small wince in her eye as her sight passed over Eleanna. "Xavier is correct in his assessment. This node should remain neutral until further discussion can be had, though I cannot simply stay here and wait until then."

Benea turned to Monica, as if she had the answer. “Perhaps a guardian? I think that’s a wonderful idea…”

With a snap of her fingers, the ground began to shake and swell around the node. The snap resounded in the air, as if commanding whatever was shaking the ground to hurry up and then all at once, a great figure burst from the valley floor. It was large, much larger than any of the gods, and had a body covered in cream colored scales that gave it a naked appearance. Chunks of stone were caught in the spines that poked from its armored hide.

In total, the beast was one of four legs and a tail as long as its neck — or necks. Three necks stretched from the broad body, each topped with a snake-like face with rows of teeth that stabbed out from its lips, giving its mouths the image of a saw. Each eye was bright and intelligent, though uneasily filled with violent energy — up until it looked down upon Benea.

The beast as big as a hill seemed to soften at the sight of its creator, simpering into the demeanor of a puppy. Greedily it bowed the nuzzle of its three snake-faces close to the goddess’ hand in hopes to be touched, and Benea obliged.

Placing a hand flat on the snout of the middle head, Benea cooed. “I think this fellow will do the job justice. Indiscriminate and noble, he will guard the node. Won’t you?”

A forked tongue flickered from the maw of the beast, as if agreeing with Benea and the goddess smiled. “That’s a good Hydra. Keep this cradle of life safe for the sake of order, won’t you?”

Another flicker and Benea tapped her hand against the snout again before turning to Anak’thas. “But thus, the time I can spend here is coming to an end. We have a world to organize, and I think I might enjoy your company if you meant your words truly. Shall you come with me?”

Her eyes darted to Monica right after. “And you?”

Benea leaned her hand on the node, resetting Eleanna’s work as she looked past Monica to also address Xavier and then Dzillatsunya. “Or you?”

The following conversation was surely interesting, with valid points about how to proceed, hints of certain personalities, and the shadow goddess was even given a compliment. However, it was all washed by the goddess with only her basic acknowledgement. The reason for that was simple, as more gods approached, a true show of horrors started to form, its apex being... the desecration of a corpse. No, not any corpse...

Dzallitsunya held a hand over her mouth, gagging, going paler... somehow. It was... their creator, a person who gave it all to give this world a new chance... and they just... treated it like animals, hanging over the now maggot filled body like it was carrion, one, the most abhorrent of all, took pieces of Peninal for trophies.

Why

Why were they doing this? Why did... such people exist? They had no right... Monica, who once made sure the fallen god was given dignity now did nothing... not that Dzallitsunya could judge, she had been, small step by small step, leaving the scene instead of confronting it, resting a hand against a tall rock as nausea still overtook her senses.

Then the land shook, and all attention, godly and mortal, was brought to the centre again as the great Hydra rose to guard this zone.

Its creator, Benea, then addressed the shadow goddess directly, putting her in a hard spot, the intention wasn't bad but after all, she saw... Dzallitsunya did not know exactly how to proceed.

"Well, you see. The thing is." her speech lingered as she looked around as if searching something, finding her excuse nearby as she only now had noted the humans had fled with the rise of the Hydra. "The humans seem to be in a bit of a panic thanks to uh... the guardian. Spreading about all over the valley and well... that can be troublesome, no? What if they walk into the untamed zones or fall in a river... oh look, those are hiding in a cave, that is bad."

She stared at the map, and nodded. "I think I will be stabilising that node at the middle of the northwest?" she pointed to Node 7 "But first, I must go and seek that group of humans rushing into those caverns before they get lost or stuck. It was pleasant to meet you. Goodbye."

Her excuse given, Dzallitsunya quickly slid away from the congregation of gods, rushing half a valley away, towards a rockier area where the entrance to the cave was.

“I shall.” Anakt’thas said to Benea’s offer. In his mind, the central node would serve as a meeting place for the gods shaped in the form of a giant temple complex. But here around the node they would join again. For now, though, Benea’s creation would protect it until it could rightfully be claimed.

There were other gods joining them now. One absolute savage, with whom Anak’thas would feel no pleasure to work with. At least Monica was wise enough to relent to Benea. He was quickly growing tired of the bunch though. Half of them would be obstacles at the very least.

The mote-as-eye of his turned towards the recently awakened humans. “Hear me now mortals.” He shouted towards them. “The world beyond this valley is a wretched land indeed. But me and my kin-“ he motioned specifically at Benea, “will do everything in our power to tame those lands and make them prosperous. I promise you these verdant realms in exchange for naught but your faith.”

With his grand declaration done he again turned towards Benea. “While your company would no doubt be a delight, I am afraid that duty calls first.” He then leaned in closer to whisper: “Not all our siblings will offer the same life-giving lands, and these mortals will no doubt become the tools of our order. We must protect them.” With that said, he started walking – at the pace of a god at least – towards the north-eastern node.

II

Eleanna chuckled. The whole thing was perfect right now -- Everyone struggling to understand the true nature of their existence and purpose. The Hydra that Benea had just created eyed Eleanna and inched closer the longer she kept her hand placed on the node, and her claiming process had been reset by Benea herself. This helped her realize that there was no world in which she would be able to claim the node at that moment no matter how hard she struggled, so she withdrew her hand and nodded at Benea and Xavior. "You two have convinced me. For better or worse, let's leave this unclaimed. I guess it's not a bad idea to leave this area somewhat stable so that the humans can reproduce, after all."

Eleanna then put her helmet back on and started to walk away into the lush forest. "Be careful you don't spend too long thinking instead of acting, guys. I'll follow the example of our Moon-pale friend and get to work right away, so call me if you wanna have some fun." She said with a wave of her free hand before leaving... In the same direction that Anak'thas had left only a couple moments before.

---

"I shall accompany you." Monica answered, peering at Benea with inquisitive eyes and a soft smile, gracefully gliding closer until she was a step away from her sister. Her wings granted her flight, but required assistance for her to actually ascend and soar through the skies. Because of her hindered flight, she briefly closed her eyes and called forth her might, conjuring that which would uplift her - manifesting as an ornate bracelet connected via a chain to a ring around her middle finger on her right hand, currently hidden behind the long sleeves of her modest garment. The magical jewelry was floral themed; decorated with pearlescent pale gems and glittering diamonds arranged to resemble leaves and flowers, and afterward Monica allowed herself to attune to its power, alleviating her of a few more of her concerns, at least. She chose to name her creation, Sylphrena.

"If you will... accept my presence." She hesitantly added upon opening her eyes and staring at Benea, still smiling, as even though the callous disregard for their fallen forebear had left a sickened feeling in her chest, Monica continued to exude an impassive and polite aura in an attempt to avoid violence and mockery, regardless of however much she wanted to be free from this sinful simmering situation sooner rather than later. With her small creation in possession, she could command the winds all around her, and enjoy a newfound liberation with her sister and whoever came with them that hadn't partaken in the desecration of the dead god. She silently prayed that these profane acts would not be an ill omen of what was to come... for otherwise the encroaching calamity will never be averted, and the cycle of conflict would only repeat itself.

The god was taken a touch by surprise by the creation of the Hydra to act as an enforcer of the node’s neutrality, but it did somewhat work in lieu of actually getting formal agreement from most of those assembled. He stared up at the looming thing. A mighty guardian indeed, and also an impressive practical display of the power they wielded. It was one thing to know you had power, it was quite another when the result of said power was gazing down at you with far too many hungry serpent eyes.

”My thanks for this, Benea. Quite the masterful piece of work” he told the creator of many headed guardian’s creator ”breaking an agreement needs to come with an understood consequence, I think, and this one will do just fine”

It certainly had done the job of getting Eleanna to back off from the node, though there was the unfortunate side effect of it terrifying the living daylights out of some of the humans. Then again, there was already a giant snake among them so he suspected that it would not be quite as bad a panic as the goddess he would eventually learn was called Dzallitsunya thought it was.

Speaking of her, she was only one of a number of gods who decided to stray off into the wilds now that talks were coming to an end. He was a touch perturbed by the fact that few had actually actively signaled agreement with his plan, indeed only Monica actually raised a hand in agreement, but it was probably better they be off rather than bickering endlessly here. That, he thought, could only escalate to one unfortunate conclusion.

Benea at least seemed interested in continuing a more general conversation by inviting some of them to come along with her, though unfortunately most turned her down, which was something of shame, he thought. Here lay an opportunity to learn of the character of the others, and witness, and possibly steer, their burgeoning ideals, something which he considered more valuable than rushing off to stake an early claim on the board.

”I would be interested in traveling with you, for a while at least,” he replied to Benea’s offer, before nodding to the very similar goddess whose hand she was holding ”and you as well, Monica, should you find no issue with my own presence?”

”But first, now that we have all taken his wisdom, it does seem crude to simply leave our creator’s form laying in the grass like this in such a diminished state, don’t you think?” he said. He also thought might also do well to contain the things Vatarr had placed inside the skull to rot the divine flesh. Who knew what those would get up too once they were done.

What to specifically do with the body instead of leaving it laying here had the god stroking his goatee as he thought for a moment, before he came to a decision that served a secondary purpose of checking any deception on Benea’s part, if there had been any, or simply strengthening her deed if she had been true.

”Let us seal away this broken form” he said, gesturing out a hand and causing stone slabs to form the simple granite tomb around the creator, before adding ”and leave behind a clear memory in its place”

That clear memory solidified atop the tomb in the form of a life sized statue of the god, formed in the likeness of what Xavior assumed would be his uninjured state. The statue of the armored god leaned against the node just as he had in his last moments, but instead of pained and defeated Xavior gave him the look of resting, hands clasped together in his lap and eyes shut. Eyes shut, and thus concealing the fully functioning golden orbs he had left beneath stone eyelids, for should the slumbering memorial sense intent to claim the node from any approaching it, it would awaken and enforce its neutrality.

”May you rest until we all stand before you once more, and a new world is set to be born” he announced, lacing the law of his offered pact into the guardian, adding in at the last moment a grim clause that those present would not necessarily need to be alive. He hoped it would not come to that, but it would be foolish to simply assume peace would hold between them all.

Once the stonework was set and the rules were in place, Xavior renounced any form of ownership of the monument and left it in the hands of the dead creator. Not even he would be immune to the ire of the guardian, should he break his word.

”There, with that, I think my business here is done” he said, dusting off his hands despite having not set the stonework with them, and then turning back to Benea and asking with a genteel smile ”So, to where was it you were you thinking of setting out for?”