Ze fixed Deone with their gaze, that strange smile still playing at their red lips. Ze made as if to say something, as Deone’s golden eyes narrowed, before they pirouetted away, striding over to Zuzu’s and casually leaning on her shoulder.

“What is this?” Zuzu said, glancing down to where Ze’s pale forearm sizzled against the black skin of her smoldering bare shoulder. “Why are you touching me, Anansi? What game is this?”

“You’re...” Timely began but Ze raised a palm at him without looking.

“Wasting time, yes yes. But it’s my time to waste and I’ll devour every second with relish. Tell me something, Zuzu, dear, before the world becomes our playground. What… are mortals?”

“What?” Zuzu asked, glancing at Petra for support. “I don’t understand the question.”

“I’m closing on 70 seconds, don’t think too hard on that, dear. Just answer. What are these creatures that will be worshipping us not long from now?”

“Mortals? They are… part of the game?” As the last syllable of Zuzu’s sentence fell from her lips, Ze quickly strode over to Timely and pointed a long finger at his nose.

“And you, War God? What’s your answer?”

“Resources,” Timely said, slapping Ze’s hand away. “Points on the board.”

“Ayaan, little friend,” Ze called, their eyes lingering on Timely a moment before turning away to face the tiny God. “What say you?”

“Hmmm….” Ayaan hummed to himself, thoughtfully, while the guiding voice called to Ze in warning, only thirty seconds left to choose. “That is a good question, my towering friend. Let us considering the philosophical question, what, truly, is man itself? Is man behavior? Genetics? Environment? And if we Gods are born of Man, what, then, is a Mortal in this game…”

“Ayaan,” Ze drawled, their tone warm but they still waggled an admonishing finger.

“I suppose,” Ayaan said, sighing. “I suppose they are life, down there. Texture. Mortals are game pieces and sources of power… And, ultimately, Mortals are… people.”

“Yes,” Ze said, now looking once more towards Deone. Ze stared at him intently as they spoke. “Mortals are game pieces and they are people. Beautiful, simple, algorithmic and living people. And I think I should like to be one. Guide? I choose Divine Avatar.”

Deone blinked for several moments then hurriedly studied floating the menu, reviewing Ze’s choice.

Divine Avatar

Deity may transfer their consciousness into a Mortal, to live out a Mortal life with 20% of their current Divine Power. Mortal form may produce miracles in accordance with their available Divine Power. Deity may act in their role as Deity for all followers, with 30% penalty to their Divine Power while Avatar is in the Mortal Realm.

Deone did not know what to expect from the strange Deity of Chaos. Hallucinogenic Plants, Minor Cataclysm, Plague. Those made sense. Those were… Chaos. But Divine Avatar? There was a deep game being played here,, Deone thought. While he appreciated Songbird, the Goddess of Art and Song, with her seemingly bizarre yet cleverly chosen Free Perk, Monotheism, as a subtle mind playing two steps ahead of the rest of them, Ze just seemed to be playing an entirely different game. Deone couldn’t figure out their motives or make sense of the move. Did they plan on manifesting as some kind of cult leader, sowing rebellions? Every strategy that came to Deone’s mind felt… late game, suited to a world that had fight through barbarism into order and, like a teenager, was ready to reject everything including belief itself. This made choice made no sense.

Lost in his thoughts, Deone had ignored the guide… and wasted thirty seconds on someone else’s strategy. He shook his head, refocused his thoughts on where they needed to be: his Free Perk.

Deone had already narrowed his choices down, ignoring the destructive Perks like Plague and Minor Cataclysm: destruction was powerful, both as an act against the followers of other Deities and as something to scare Faith into his own, but that style did not work well with abstract Domains like Contracts. Curses? Maybe. But Deone didn’t feel an affinity for that subdomain and had no idea what he’d do with it. Destruction, he decided, was best left to the Nature deities.

In the same vein, Blood for the Blood God didn’t feel right. Human sacrifice, perhaps as punishment for breaking a Contract? Gambling Mortal Lives in bloody, spectacular gladiatorial games? Soccer with human skulls? Deone’s appearance was that of a thin, severe, brown skinned old man in robes carrying a leather satchel. Deone’s persona was anything but Blood God. Soul Sacrifice was also out: just not distasteful but useless, with his passive Godly Perk. He didn’t need the Divine Points.

Holy Realm also sounded attractive. A place to shape as his own, not as powerful as Gary’s creation? Perhaps. But what would-be God did not want to create their own universe, however small? The problem, of course, was Deone needed to win the Game, not just play in a divine sandbox. To win, Deone needed was to shore up his weaknesses.

Nature-based Deities would be worshipped as pieces of the world, avatars of the natural order, surrounding scared young Mortals and their infant civilizations. It would take time before the idea of writing, much less formal Contracts, would influence Mortal cultures. Deone would have to adapt. He had a few ideas of how to do so but first he needed something that could act upon the world in a real, concrete way. He needed tangible.

Angelic Host. Undead Host. Idol Manifestation. Each would give Deone ways to act upon the world, tangibly, from the first moment each of the Pantheon took their thrones and the game began in earnest. Deone could imagine winged angels of the Divine Contract, holy enforcers… but Timely’s jibe, calling him the God of Lawyers, left him imagining winged men in business suits and glowing brief-cases, cursing sinners with divine litigation. Idol Manifestation would bring him face to face with his followers… Hard to deny the God of Contracts when their marble fingers are writing on parchment before your very eyes.

10 seconds.

It occurred to Deone, then, that he’d overlooked a choice that could give him the benefits of both Idol Manifestation and an ease to the transition from abstract idea to concrete Deity. Again, something… tangible.

5 seconds.

An early advantage, manifestation and some passive benefits that suited a slower paced, concentrated play style.

“I choose,” Deone said, taking a moment to strong his long, white chin beard, “Ancestrial Cult.”

Ancestrial Cult

Deity begins the campaign with a tribe/familial group of worshipers. All members of this tribe/familial grouping will provide Faith Points to their chosen Deity regardless of individual Faith level (including Atheist). Members of the tribal/familial group will provide 20% Faith points if active (believer) worshipper of another Deity (or none). Perk has dominant genetic component lessening with dillusion from original tribal/familial line. Deity may manifest to any members of the tribal/familial line without prayer.

It felt right. It felt appropriate. It felt like the first thing Deone should do when the game began was immediately write a Covenant. Thou Shalt Not Kill felt natural but… foolishly naïve. A pacifist religion might not survive a world with a Goddess of Reptiles and Poisons or a holy crusade of monotheistic… Artists…? Deone was still having trouble figuring out Songbird’s endgame. Thou Shalt Not Kill Within The Tribe?

And how to make more of them? A rule that forced them to have as many children as possible? It would help in the early game but make some misery later on…. Although, Deone wondered, did that really matter? As Ayaan said, they were… game pieces.

Deone was thoughtfully considering his options when Petra made her choice, one that seemed to please the other two Deities in her Alignment: Wes, the preternaturally scowling God of Oceans and Storms with his Unspeakable Name perk, Zuzu, flagrant and conflagrant Goddess of Fire and Volcanos, soon to birth a Lessor Pantheon of Fire Deities, and Petra, Goddess of Reptiles, Poisons… and now, Plagues.

They were a ghoulish trio, the Nature Alignment.

Once more, Deone weighed whether finding early Allies would be the best option. He wanted nothing to do with Timely and his impatient competitiveness but his Domain seemed more naturally inclined to join his and Wen, the God of Invention. Khadijah the Sun Goddess had offered him her hand, as a protector. That was why Deone knew he would avoid her help if at all possible. Her ego was not something he wanted to owe a debt to. Young-Sou, God of Crime, Children and Travelers and Songbird, Goddess of Art, both seemed determined to go it alone.

That left the Alignment of Ze and Ayaan… the Alignment of Tricksters, Deone called it.

Ze was Chaos on their own; combined with Ayaan’s magic Domain and odd personality, he didn’t know what he could expect from his possible allies. Deone pursed his lips thoughtfully and patted his satchel… then stopped, his golden irised eyes wide going wide. Deone could feel Wen’s contract with Timely, could feel the difference between their looser arrangement and the specific words spoken by the trio of the Nature Deities without drawing a parchment from his bag but when his mind went to the contract, the Alignment of Chaos and Magic, Deone could feel… nothing. He could now conjure up Ze and Ayaan’s contract. The reason, Deone quickly concluded, was simple. The two tricksters had never made an agreement. They weren’t an Alignment.

What had they been doing that entire time, whispering, plotting and giggling with their heads bowed?

Timely was the next to be called and his choice was an uncharacteristically slow one. He thoughtfully fingered the floating menu before him, seeming to read and reread several options.

“Alright,” he finally announced, more to himself than to the rest of the waiting Pantheon. Despite the soft tone, the deep brass of Timely’s voice carried. “I choose Eternal Champion. Wen, keep that in mind when you choose.”

Wen, the God of Invention and Tools, made for a much smaller contrast to the barrel chested, leather kilted and long-haired Timely, God of War. Wen had spiked up red hair of an unnatural hue and wore tan leathers covered in belts and buckles whose purpose was anyone’s guess. Wen fingered the silver hammer dangling from his tool belt then used that finger to tap the menu.

“Hmmm,” Wen hummed to himself, thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, this will do.

“I choose Blood for the Blood God.”

At that, Cortez actually gasped and even Timely, his ally, furrowed his brows a moment before conceding Wen’s choice with a nod.

Deone reviewed Wen’s choice, himself unable to quite understand it. Blood for the Blood God?

Blood for the Blood God

Deity's with this perk receive 300% increase to Divine Power from Faith points from all followers who witness a Human Sacrifice in this Deity's name.

Why didn’t Wen choose Supreme Mathematics, a natural affinity to Invention? Of all the Deities, Deoen though he had the best read on what Wen’s choices would be.

His Godly Perk, Wen had revealed before being chided by the rest of the Pantheon (many of whom kept their Perk as closely guarded secret), was Manic Inspiration. They all knew how Wen could use Divine Power to spark manic, possibly suicidal, inspiration in a follow to force technological advances. How much Divine Power could the perk possibly need? As much as Timely seemed to accept Wen’s choice, it was clear no one but Wen himself understood it.

By chance, Deone then glanced towards Songbird. Her lips always vaguely suggested a serene smile but looking at her now, that default serenity did not reach her eyes. Unusual.

Wen, Deone saw, seemed content to examine his hammer with feigned interest. Timely, the God of War, clearly wanted to win and so far seemed comfortable with speed and brute force to do so. And it seemed he assumed, like everyone else, Wen would just follow behind him taking advantages where he could. Deone was beginning to rethink that naïve opinion….

The last to choose their Free Perk was the very first of their Pantheon… Gary, stereotypical embodiment of the God of Death. Gary, who had manifested as a fairly mundane, black haired and pale skinned Death God In Leather Pants. Gary who, frankly, seemed bored when anyone but Cortez was talking.

Gary made a pursued the options menu floating ethereally before him as if it were an appetizer menu and shrugged.

“Angelic Host, I guess? Yeah, let’s go with that.” Gary paused, then cocked his head up towards the emptiness above them, calling a question to the guide. “Hey, how long do I have to wait to use this?”

“All Perks have been chosen,” the voice deeply intoned. “Mortal Realm is configuring. The Divine Thrones are manifesting. Divine Power will be available when the Thrones are completed.”

“Great,” Gary said, eyeing Cortez and the Goddess of Pleasure studiously ignored him. “I think you’re going to love Gary’s Angels….”

Cortez rolled her eyes. Petra took that moment to slither over towards her, coquettishly toying with her long, blonde braid. “Are the boys making you uncomfortable, Pleasure Goddess? Should I sink my petite little fangs into some Godly throats?”

At that, Cortez gave a little smile and Gary’s ghoulishly grey skin almost seemed to blush.

“I’m a big girl,” Cortez said, pointedly eyeing the length of Petra’s snake-like tail. “I can handle quite a bit, thank you….”

Petra’s brow rose a fraction but all eyes rose as the guiding voice called out, the murky limbo surrounding them subtly brightening like a misty dawn at lake-side.

“Mortal Realm configured,” the voice called. “Below, Pantheon… your divine thrones.”

All at once, as the ambient grey dawned into a morning mist, thirteen chairs rose from the ground, each matched the persona and style of the Deities that owned them. Wes’ throne rose, moist, austere and built of aqua ocean sponge; Cortez, with opulent, plush velvet contrasting with Wen’s simple wooden work bench; Zuzu’s chair was built of flame while Khadijah was a spherical throne, a blazing sun that left her silhouette a bare eclipse against its blinding light; Petra received a throne of living serpents, an ever-writhing mass making only the hint chair shape in its form; Young-Sou, God of Crime, sat atop a high-backed crimson throne fit for a king and Ayaan had a similar, purple royal throne, though only a fraction of Young-Sou’s size. Gary’s throne was… a gamer chair, meant to cushion his neck and back against hours of assumed sloth. While Deone might assume Timely, the God of War, would have a throne of swords or guns he, instead, received a wooden rocking chair. It did not seem comfortable to Deone’s eyes. Songbird, meanwhile, had a mat. She sat upon it in a lotus poise and fell into an immediate trance. Ze’s throne was a, in fact, a lounging couch. Ze did not move to it, just yet.

Deone’s throne was, unlike the other’s, a desk. The chair was functional, wooden with wheels at the bottom but solid cushioning for the back and neck. The desk was a polished mahogany, a dark wood that still reflected on its surface. Deone moved to touch the desk, stroking his fingers against the wood and felt a profound peace and comfort. His throne screamed of… order. Solid, constant, comfortable organization. He knew those drawers would hold a million contracts and each could be called with barely a thought and a flick of his fingers.

And around those thrones….

The Pantheon had their Olympus.

The thrones had manifested in a circle arranged around a vague and clouded bronze globe. While the globe seemed artificial, the clouds shifting over its surface was very real. Deone knew each of the Pantheon would have a different view of that world, a peek of the Mortal Realm that no one else could quite see until their power was strong and certain.

The Thrones themselves were a kind of hub, a micro-realm for each of the Deities to call their own, as well as an access to their status menu.

Most of the Pantheon took their appointed seats and began to access to their power. Songbird had already gone into a trance, likely reaching her will into the Mortal Realm and accessing the lives of her followers. Gary immediately sat in his gamer chair and used what little Divine Power he had to conjure the first of his angelic hose: a toddler sized, bat-winged cherub in a vinyl bodysuit… who looked exactly like a big eyed, bobble headed Cortez.

Cortez, unfortunately, had already flopped down onto her cushy throne and fallen into a trance. Frustrated, Gary let his eyes go blank as he, too, began accessing the game.

Deone, Wen, and Ze were the last to watch as their Olympus resolved itself into a high mountain surrounded by clear, blue skies, lit and bright but without a sun to claim it. Their thrones were housed in a simple temple with an open design, a clear view of an endless world beneath them. Its ionic marble columns were mottled with black and beige, as if onyx were accidentally spilled into their white paint skin.

Deone looked to Wen, who watched Ze. He seemed to want to wait but ultimately decided to approach Deone while Ze was present to watch them.

“May I,” said Wen, “have a copy?”

“A copy?” Deone asked, a single brow raising.

“Don’t be coy, Deone. I’d like a copy of the contract between Timely and I.”

Deone furrowed his brow, wondering, for a moment, how he was supposed to create a copy from his parchment bag when he realized that simply handing it to him, as Deone did just then, meant nothing. The paper was not the Contract. The parchment Deone had pulled when he felt it’s power glowing in his satchel, the parchment etched with the eternal worlds of their Divine oath, passed from Deone’s hands to Wen’s and when Deone patted his satchel once more, he knew the original was still there while Wen could walk away with his perfect copy.

Wen nodded, then went towards his throne, a simple wooden bench, and fell into a trance.

That left Deone and Ze, for once truly alone.

Ze was taller than Deone, and thin as a scarecrow. Still, when Ze strode to Deone and wrapped an arm into his, they felt gracefully feminine in their lankiness.

“Deone,” Ze said, cocking their head and letting their gaze explore Deone’s face. “Do you remember what I said to you? About your… potential?”

“I don’t,” Deone said, “remember you saying potential.”

“Because I didn’t say those words, Deone. But you’re smart enough to know I meant them, whatever I said.”

“Yes,” Deone said, warily. “You said, I think, I could be another kind of God. God of Laws. Of Order. Because my contracts are absolute.”

“That’s right,” Ze said, now brushing a long, thin finger against his jawline until a fingernail finally met his chin hair. “You could be something special, this time around. You just need to take control.”

“Take control?” Deone asked, pulling away slightly.

“Hummm,” Ze said, considering Deone a moment before taking a few long, horse-stomp steps away from him, hands in pockets. “I’ve decided to tell you a secret, God of Contracts, Curses and Gambling. I’ve decided to tell you but I don’t know if you’re quite worthy of holding my secrets.” Ze leaned, back arching in an angle that barely seemed human, and offered another mysterious grin. “How will you prove yourself worthy?”

“Perhaps,” Deone said with little hesitation, reaching into his satchel, “perhaps we can make a contract?”

Ze grinned. “Aha, Deone. I see you already understand your power. You clever, clever God.”

“I’m the God of Oaths. I have to keep any deal we make, you know.”

“You’re the God of Lawyers. You’re smart enough to talk daggers into the fabric of any deal you make.”

Deone scowled at that, both at the repeated insult of “the God of Lawyers,” and the fact that he knew Ze was right. When you choose a Domain, the Domain influences you. Deone could not quite know how much of himself remained whatever it was from… before… the vague that preceded the God’s Game… but Deone knew that he could not break an oath but loved, savored, the idea of finding a loop hole in an oath.

“What do you want?” Deone said, flatly.

At that, Ze smiled. Once more, long leg’s taking careful, loud and thoughtful steps, Ze approached Deone.

“For… hmmm… let’s say, Free of Charge… I will offer you a secret, Deone.”

“I will take your secret, Ze,” Deone said, his face a mask of distant, disdainful calm. “But first I need your price. Feel free to make it a promise, with lots of stipulations.”

“Ha,” Ze barked a quick, loud laugh. “Ha, no, Deone. No, I don’t think you’ll be tying chains on me just yet… not until I give consent, anyway… no, I’ll give you this for free.”

“I’m tired of games, Ze,” Deone said. “This game, at least. I’m ready to start playing in the world, so why don’t you get on with whatever you need of me. What is the damned deal, Ze?”

“No deal,” Ze said. “Just this. Just a gift. Tell me, Deone… aren’t you curious about my Godly Perk?”

Deone glanced about at the rest of the Pantheon. If the world were… as it should be, anyone around them would hear Ze’s secret and there would be no advantage for him or anyone in earshot. The Pantheon, on their thrones, were still as statues while breathing with chest rises that moved like glaciers.

“I’ll admit… yes,” said Deone, “I’m curious. But I still wouldn’t trust you to feed worms to a fish.”

Ze chuckled, their voice started flat, high and softly feminine before lapsing into a deeper timber. “So cynical. This is why I’m going to live in the world for a while, Deone. What’s optimism without powerlessness? Sour, is the answer. Now come, Deone. Let me whisper my secret to you. It won’t change much.”

Deone considered Ze once more, taking in their bell-bottomed, long pants, lanky frame and colorful, deep cleavage vest. Finally, Deone sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, Ze. Please,” Deone said, feeling if he were going to be toyed with by this bizarre Deity, the least he could be was polite. “What’s your Godly Perk?”

Ze opened their mouth, then shut it. Every moment, Ze seemed to look into Deone’s soul and weigh it for its worth. Deone met Ze’s intense gaze calmly.

Finally, Ze nodded, letting their long finger’s drift up to take Deone’s chin and turn an ear their way.

“Ze, Deity of Chaos and Games,” Ze whispered in Deone’s ear. “Godly Perk, Butterfly’s Flap. It reminds me a scientist, the butterfly. But I can’t remember his name. Neither, of course, can you, hmm Deone?”

“No,” Deone said, scowling. “No. I know the concept, I think. It’s not unfamiliar….”

“I know. You know who you are. You know what you are. It’s just the details that are messy.”

Deone glanced at his throne, realizing that even the few minutes of this conversation had, with the dilation between Mortal Realm and Divine Realm, he was already losing ground.

Deone brushed past Ze, hurrying towards his throne.

“Wait, Deone!” Ze called. “I haven’t told you my perk!”

Deone was done with Ze’s game. He had a game of his own to win and it seemed the Chaos Deity, random as they seemed to be, played a game of their own. The game of wasted time.

As Deone lowered himself into his Throne, its shape that of a large, mahogany desk and sturdy chair, he heard Ze softly call, waggling their thin fingers his way as world began to fade away. “Butterfly’s flap. To see all of fate’s dominoes and know which ones need a little… push...”