Oh how he’d missed the rush. The excitation of demanding an event outside norm and the realm helpless to stop it.

He called to his stores of Devotion, readying to use every drop he had. After he would be as weak as a shade. But his power would regrow and he wouldn’t have to hold back anymore. Wargain was after his head, the time of being passive, trying to stay under his noticed, was past.

‘Will you feel fear Wargain?’ He wondered, the concept spurring him on as he filled his shrine and avatar with everything he had.

His five champions remained kneeled as he did this, a mixture of emotions wafting from them. Excitement, longing, curiosity, commitment, and hesitation. All fitting, for this had never been done before. Once completed they would be fellow gods, allies to face the realm and the horrors it birthed. But one day those five may become bitter rivals. And he had nothing to keep them loyal, save for the time they’d shared together, the closeness they’d built. If they decided to embark on a different path, one encounter to him. He would have to accept.

‘So be it.’ He thought, mind focusing, all the power was together now. Him and the shrine a blazing beacon both in the material realm and the etheric.

He focused on the five souls housed with vessels of flesh as old knowledge surfed anew. He willed to his power, and felt creation already begin to tremble.

Smiling, thrill rushing through him, heightening his awareness. He took a deep breath and began.

Runes of divine might manifested all around them, shifting to his will.

Hands spread out; head held high. “Behold.” The realm shook with the sound of thunder. “My Sovereign Right.” The declaration echoed outward for leagues.

“That Five Shall Rise To Heavenly Heights.” The mountain they resided in began to crumble, stone shattering as the realm attempting to maintain order.

But it couldn’t stop him, his power pushed back and realm quaked in protest.

“Divine They Shall Be, Bestowed All Its Rights.” If the realm had a voice, it be screaming in rage and anguish, instead winds howled.

With his godly eyes he could see through the stone, witness a chaotic storm birthed above. Lighting danced within rapidly expanding clouds.

“So Say I.” He screamed, his voice louder than the storm.

“With All My Sovereign Might.” A shockwave exploded outward from his shrine, and the realm itself shattered. The line between the real and the ethic blurred into one.

It left him then, all at once. The powered stored within him and the shrines winked out.

His champions gasped as one, their forms blazing bright as they rose into the air. Creation answered his decree, bent to his will and before him he witnessed Sovereign Cores shine brightly into existence.

It was done, his act complete, and the laws of the realm come back with a vengeance. The Glen vanished; the line made anew. Normalcy taking hold, the sky…

His gazed upward. Where once the storm began to disperse it instead began to ripple, contort, then shatter. Searing light came though the torn and burning vale. The mountain dissolved away from the heat, the landscape burned and began to turn molten. Yet he and his shrine remained unmarred, it would have taken almost nothing to remove him from the land. He was spent, he reserves slowly refilling. Yet he had been spared, but his champions had not. They went up went in smoke, their ashes carried away with the winds.

No matter, they were still loosely connected to him. He watched as the maelstrom of power effecting the area carried them away. Their souls still processing the changes the Sovereign cores were forcing upon them.

He would help them when he could, but at the moment, he had a guest. For there is a mind influencing the heat. And that entity came through the tear in the sky, slowly levitating downward. A titan made of bronze sculpted as a Kolune in war gear. With white blinding flames billowing from the gaps. Gently he landed to the ground. The god towered higher than the tallest surrounding mountains.

Malan fixed his rival with a piercing glare. But at the same time kept his smile.

“What did you do?” Boomed Wargain voice, the realm trembled. It had been a long time since he’d seen his rival manifest an avatar. “And where do you get all that Devotion?”

Any weak mortal, and great many gods would have answered. Bowed before the deity in front of them. Malan only laughed. “You came yourself.” He forced out, honesty he hadn’t expected that. No, he’d expected Cycure, she wanted him gone more than anyone.

“Is it pride that brought you here?” He asked, mirth thick in his voice.

Wargain didn’t share in his amusement. “Answered me!” He screamed, and the realm screamed with him. The sky ripped more, displaying a realm of blinding light, and scouring heat. A show a force, a display that he could bend the realm to his will as he saw fit. And the realm compelled Malan to answer, to tell every secret. A mortal would have broken, a normal god as well. For the realm tried to force his action, it leeched Devotion away as he refused to comply. Attempted to burrow into the deepest parts of himself to take control. It instead collided with his core. The realm shivered in fear, and the compulsion died instantly.

Malan laughed in the face of his towering opponent. The act causing disgruntled fury to warp Wargains craved features.

It made Malan smile more, a rush to fill his chest. For all his rivals might Wargain was helpless to make him kneel. But better yet, what truly made him euphoric was his rival was here at all. “It must eat at you that I still remain.” He said to the god of destruction. “That unlike the stories you tell your followers, I’m not withering away. Not at my last moment of existence.” Wargain stared at him, irises made of warring flames. Then he to began to chuckle.

“I forgot how frustrating you are.” Said the god, its metallic face shifting into the likeness of a smile. He leaned closer, Wargain frame hovering over the ruins of the mountain. “Look at you.” Wargain spoke mockingly. “Look at me, and yet you still have the spine to stand straight. Admirable.” The flaming titan took hold of the shrine “It’s fitting brother.”

Malan smile vanished as fast as the mountains had. “Don’t you dare start with that nonsense!” He said, baring his fangs.

It only mused the titan. “Even weak you are of my kin. Its only right that you outlast all the false deities.”

“Stop it,” Malan hissed through his teeth. He couldn’t stand it. The lie, the story Wargain had been working into his religion. Intertwining them. “We’re not related, nor even the same species.” Wargain a metal Kolune, he a goldened Dargown, there wasn’t a speck of resemblance between them.

It didn’t deter his rival, instead it encouraged more nonsense, more lies. “So weak were you, the realm ordained to make another race, Dargown, the lesser Kolune.”

Malan felt his fur flare in anger, his claws lengthen, and his lips peel back.

Wargain was only amused by it. They both knew there wasn’t anything he could do. And from the titan stare, Malan could tell his rival got a sick pleasure from it. The needed, impulse to dominate others who’d yet to submit.

“And yet for all that, my misguided sibling.” Wargain said in his realm shattering voice. “I offer mercy, you’ve proven yourself over and over. Passed every trial I’ve put in place.” All of it sickening lies, worse it would be repeated by millions, spoken as fact, written in tomes. The lie would be seen as truth given enough time. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it, not now.

But in the future? He clung to that thought, letting it calm him.

“Pledge yourself to me,” The titan of bronze said. “And all will be forgiven. You shall be brought back into my light, rejoined with the pantheon you cast aside.”

Malan gave him a look of contempt, disgusted to the core. “I will be there,” he said with as much hate as he could muster into his words. “When you die, your kingdom shatters, your religion cast down.”

The giant leaned his head closer, the smile gone. Metal parted and flames bellowed out as a snarling maw took shape. “Think carefully brother,” the words reverberating with the power to shatter a continent. “I won’t offer this mercy a second time.”

He scoffed, unphased by the might. For he is forever. He could be shattered and undone thousands of times, it would change nothing. “I am not your brother you shallow man.” The heat worsened, white flames blazing angerly.

“I am Malan, son of the Miracle weaver, last holder of Wonder, and I will be your undoing.” He removed his power from the shine, ending his dominion over it. Wargain snapped his hand shut shattering the stone then mountain with a roar of rage.

Malan essence raced away, pulled towards another shrine far off. He allowed it, gaining distance between them, but before long he fought the pull and slowed.

He allowed himself to dwell within the Glen, the plane a shifting tapestry of colors mixing with the physical realm it was loosely connected to. The souls in the area fled from him when his essence solidified into a tangible form.

“Now where are they?” He said aloud as he used the fading links to determine their location. Not surprisingly they’d been scattered about, since Wargain childish displays of power caused rough currents to billow through the Glen.

A push of his will had him sailing through the air, the rules and restrictions of the material realm holding little sway on him within the Glen. The lands rushed passed as he hurried to Bronduff. Of the five he would need the most help, emotionally anyway. Kolune took their oaths seriously, and were only broken in rare cases, most involving a betrayal of sorts.

Little over a minute and Malan found his enforcer. The poor soul curled on the ground eyes staring off into the distance. That is till Malan arrived landing softy by his side. Without saying a word, he sat near him and pulled Bronduff into his embrace.

“I will be over soon.” He said, increasing the size of his form to better hold Bronduff in his grasp. His champion didn’t respond, save for clinging to him tightly. Malan knew from experience the struggle taking place, the effort to stay aware as the Core filled him with new instincts, and converted him into a god

No mortal understood what that meant, and how it effects the person. Already he could see the changes taking place. Bronduff fur, which had always been white, became even more so, and sickly, it represented the end. For that is what Bronduff did so much of in life. The kind of person he was. An execution, bringer of death. As such the Core was making him a reflection of it.

Bronduff eyes became dull, the gaze of a corpse. His armor, that his subconscious had formed, did the same, it looked used, but still in good repair. Small cuts covered it; the kind used for counting. A show of how many had met their end by his hands.

Malan gazed at those. Bronduff used them often, the Core knew this to. Thus, where before there were claws made of strengthened fibers, now they were of steel that lightly glowed.

Bronduff groaned, his grip worsening. Malan leaned his head close, spoke into the left ear. “Don’t fight it, don’t even try to comprehend the knowledge flooding in. Just let it pass. You will know it all by heart once the process is done.”

“What is happening to me?” Whispered the forming god.

Malan combed his mane. “Shifting into the core of what you really are.” For all his politeness, and well-behaved manners, that didn’t change the person Bronduff was. A killer in every way, a man who didn’t flinch at ending lives, no matter who they were. A fixed merciless being that would carry out his will, no matter the deed.

Bronduff is a part he lacked, for his nature prevented him from going down to dark of paths. Those required in order to win a war against a god of destruction.

A small haunted laugh let Malan know his friend saw the truth.

“I’m the lynch man everyone fears, an execution prowling the lands.” The words gave the forming god stability and strength. “High and low, rich and poor, divine or mundane, all are in reach of the noose. And the waiting axe.” Bronduff grow in size, pushed from him.

Then they stared at each other. One set glowing with life, the other empty and devoid of light. “Both of them yours,” the execution said. “Same as I.” They both gasped as a connection formed, one beyond any before. And he knew what it was, without even prompting, they’d joined together into a pantheon.

He laughed, radiating joy. “See Bronduff,” he said, grabbing hold of his friend. “There was no need for shame, for we have always been bound tight. Loyal to one another, and now forever.”

The link was so strong, he could feel Bronduff emotions. The flood of relief, the excitement, maybe he could even see his thoughts. But Malan stopped himself, such a thing would be a breach of trust, he instead enjoyed the moment.

He was finally part of something more. It wasn’t just him now, one god against a pantheon, he had a comrade at his side.

The god of execution sighed. “It feels so obvious now, everything clear.”

“As it’s supposed to be.” Malan added. “We are the manifestations of concepts,” he smiled happily to his fellow god. “Certain affairs with be effortless for you now, but it will take time and experimentation to found out the full scope of them.”

Malan himself was many things, allowing him a broad set of skills. But the easiest pertained to life, especially healing. It hardly cost him anything, nor did he have to concentrated on the work. It flowed through him, joined with a sense of everything coming together perfectly.

Bronduff rose to his full height, offering a helping hand to Malan. It was then the new god became aware of their surroundings. The lands of snow dancing with the changing lights of the Glen.

“I died.” Bronduff said with a start. His brows furrowing and ears pressing flat in concentration.

“Wargain made an appearance.” Malan stated as he scanned the realm for the other four champions. “Not to be rude,” he said, grabbing hold of Bronduff left hand. “But we must hurry, the links with the others are fading and I’d prefer to be there for them as they transition.” Or with how things had gone with Bronduff, at least greet them.

Bronduff motioned with his right hand, indicating his understanding. “My apologies, I’m ready god.”

“You’re a god to,” Malan said taking flight with a push of his legs. He dragged Bronduff along with him, who suffered a brief moment of fright. “Call me Malan from now on, we’re equals Bronduff.”

“As you wish.” He answered relaxing himself as Malan hurried them through the realm. They arrived at their target within seconds finding Ryan, his preacher, already done with his changes and milling about.

“Lord.” He shouted, thrilled when he caught sight of them. “And Bronduff,” he added squinting his eyes. “I think, what happened to you?” Ryan titled his head back and forth while adjusting his luxuries silk robes filled with jewels and trimmed gold. “You look like a corpse.”

Bronduff grunted as they landed. “I did make a great deal of them in life, and so reflect it. A symbol of what I bring to those marked by me.” The Kolune took his turn studying his changed companion. “What of you?” He asked. “Those are rather divine garments and your fur, plus eyes have changed color.”

Ryan blinked, looked down at his form, only then aware of clothing. “Oh my,” he voiced appraising the layered silk. But that was soon forgotten as he pulled back a sleeve and gazed at his blur white fur. It looked pristine, well-groomed and unlike Bronduff, lively.”

Malan Manifested a full body mirror near Ryan, and the Verm didn’t waste a second to inspect himself. He gasped at the sight.

In some ways Ryan resembled the Architect of Wargain Pantheon. White furred with crimson eyes, so red and shiny they could have been mistake as rubies.

His ears were rounder, thinner and joined with a facial structure more appealing to what Verm deemed as alluring. It was likely the same with the rest of his body, but that was covered in the attire of a high priest or aristocrat. The only other feature to see was his tail. Which Malan saw was longer, and more uniform in its lessening of mass.

“Look at me.” Ryan said, awed by his own appearance. “I’m the very depiction Verm wish to be.” Which made sense, his champion was a preacher, a leader of the masses. It only fit that he resembled what his kind wanted to follow. But it wasn’t just his appearance that had changed, there was an aura about him. Though it didn’t affect Malan or Bronduff, he could tell from his knowledge of miracles, and the way gods worked. That mortals would be eager to join his religion if they were in his presence.

“You will be a guide to your people.” Malan said, helping Ryan along with his self-discovery. The words had Ryan stop gawking at himself, and take on a thinking pose.

“Not just them,” Ryan said eyes going wide. “Everyone aligned with our cause, even those on the cusp of understanding.”

‘A converter.’ Malan thought to himself, he’d heard of those, how quickly they could grow if given the chance. But also their weak nature when it came to fights with other divines.

“I will give them direction, show them the path, and the courage to walk it.” Ryan spoke, mostly to himself. “Everyone will see the splendor of Wonder.” The moment the word was said, and Ryan looked his way, Malan felt the connection. The god of conversion gasped as they joined as one, another added to a growing pantheon.

“Yes!” Ryan shouted with glee. “It’s all clear, the future so bright.” He was looking upward towards the shining heavens of shifting hues. “Cities that defy the realm, a culture so sophisticated it makes other envious with want. People able to rise as far as they see fit.”

Tears began to form in the eyes of the Vermmian god. “It’s so beautiful, how it should be, how it will be.” He said with conviction, his awareness retuning to present. “Oh,” Ryan muttered, wiping his eyes. “How repugnant of me, apologies, I lost myself for a moment.”

Malan smiled in understanding. “No need for that, I was taken by visions when I converted to a god.” Though not as strongly.

“A god, yes I’m a god.” Ryan mumbled, and looked back at the mirror. He laughed softy, his tail swiping back and forth on the ground. He looked back at Malan, ruby eyes glistening. “Forever and ever?”

Malan nodded. “Nothing can take this from you, no matter how mighty the god.”

Relief came from the link they shared before Ryan turned his attention away from his reflection and focused on them. “What now?” he said rubbing his hands together as he neared them.

Offering a hand, Malan searched for another of his champions. Aiming for the closest. “We find the rest of our family.” He said before soaring upward and dragging along the other two gods.

Ryan let out a small squeak, latching onto his arm. “A little warning would have been welcome.” He complained in a fear-stricken tone.

“Sorry,” Malan said, his sight aimed forward. “We’re in a rush.” Yet they still weren’t going to reach everyone, links were tearing and they only just reached the sight of a Heon before the link connecting them snapped. It was the same with the other two further off.

He wasn’t worried though, the last two he would greet could easily care for themselves. Instead, he landed them softy next to their third ascended brother.

Rimean, his fellow healer, looked much the same physical. Brown furred, long tipped ears, and thin physique. The only thing of note was his clothing. A thick, short sleeved gown of greens and wood-colored browns. One intricately lined with pockets.

Their friend was seated comfortable on the ground, legs crossed, and in a moment of mindful rest.

“So it is,” Rimean said. “That the path always leads to him.” His eyes opened and gazed in Malan direction. Emeralds, glowing with clerical energy. A new link formed, and they felt as another joined with the pantheon. “For with him is the light of anew dawn.” Rimean finished and calmly rose, his leaf-colored eyes quickly surveying the area.

“The Glen?” He questioned, before returning his gaze “Who came to kill us?”

Malan grinned. “Wargain, he turned the landscape into a molten sea by the time I left.”

“I didn’t feel a thing.” Rimean commented as he took note of his garb. “Or someone clothing me.” He began opening pockets, hands disappearing inside. They reached deeper than should have been possible. At first it seemed nothing was contained within, but Rimean closed his eyes, became aware of something. The Heon began pulling out leaves, funguses, tree bark. He inspected each. “These are healing ingredients; some I haven’t been able to find in decades.”

Malan eyes widened with glee. “Think of pulling something herbalist out.” he said, getting Rimean to give an interested stare. But he did as ask, and before them he retrieved a small vial filled with a light green substance. Rimean pulled off the cork and sniffed the contents.

“A strengthening elixir.” Rimean told them, reinserting the cork. “I often use these on the malnourished.” He placed the vial back into the pocket it come from, only for it to be replaced with another. One with a bronzed liquid that shimmered. The healer looked at it fondly: “A life elixir, a mix of rare bark, shrooms, and Devotion.” Gently holding the vial with both hands, he stared at it, lost in thought. “It takes months to find the right ingredients.”

They watched as he pulled another vial from a different pocket, it contents the same. “So it doesn’t matter which, only my thought do.” Rimean spoke.

“Careful how many times you do that.” Malan warned. “You’ve only just ascended, the Core within you hasn’t had time to build up Devotion.” Which is what powered the miracle acts his healer was nonchalantly performing.

Rimean placed everything back into his pockets, eyes shifting randomly in thought. Though he wasn’t showing it Malan could feel through their connection the excitement his fellow healing was going through. “The amount of people I can save now.” He muttered. “To guide,” he added, brows furrowing. “I can feel it, people in need of a new path. Waiting, longing for someone to arrive and help them.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to aid them soon enough.” Malan said getting Rimean to focus. “Once the others have been brought it-

Malan breathed deep as he felt two connections form almost at the same time. They were now a pantheon of six. He felt them closing, the distance not too far. Rimean followed his gaze. “Was that them I felt?” He asked, “Derrin and Foy.”

Malan nodded thrilled that his plan had worked out so well. He knew they’d find their way back to him, a new link made. But there had always been the risk of distractions. Them consumed by their new place in reality, and pulled to seek their own path for a time. But thankfully his fears had been misplaced. The decades spent together had made them closely knit.

“Shall we greet them?” Ryan asked advancing forward before turning. “Normally please.”

Malan chuckled. “That’s fine, we’re all together now, there’s no rush.”

“Celestials be praised.” Ryan said, moving closer to Rimean. “Our lord here dragged us through the sky to reach you in a timely manner.” The god of conversion shook his head. “Not an experience I wish to endure again.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Bronduff helpfully chipped in. “Though I would prefer to be the one in control of such hurried travels.”

“See,” Ryan said pointing to Bronduff, “Not even he liked, that alone should tell you how unpleasant it was.”

Rimean didn’t responded to the words, he instead bowed. “My apologies lord.” He said and pressed his palms together. “That champions would complain about your charitable aid.”

Ryan gasped offended. “That is not what I meant.”

The life weaver laughed. Weakly waving his hands for Ryan to straight himself, Malan spoke: “No offence was felt. It is true my handling of our travel was rushed. Besides.” He added with a sigh. “None of you are my champions anymore.” The three looked at him. “You are gods now, Sovereign individuals equal to me. You are my peers, it’s natural we talk openly with one another.”

Rimean didn’t frown, but his left ear dipped slightly. He didn’t approve, the truth even more event when Malan didn’t feel a flow of emotion through the link. Meaning Rimean was purposely hiding his intentions.

“Speak Rimean.” Malan said, not in a command tone. “Please, we are all gods here, and of the same pantheon. Our disagreements should be openly discussed.”

The Heon stayed quiet for a few breaths, before voicing: “I do not appreciate with how quickly you seek to lower yourself.”

“Lower?” He questioned. “No, you five have risen, by my decree, I’m not going to just ignore that.” Other gods would. Play the part of somehow still being superior. Not him, it went against his nature and he’d done enough of that this day when he withheld information from his champions.

Rimean looked at his clothing, the miracles it so easily performed. “We are gods” he stated. “The impossible made real, yet another wonder in your hands.”

“And now in yours,” Malan added. “A pantheon to herald in the age of Wonder, to uplift the masses from the oppression both from chaos and order.”

Ryan smiled widely at the words, while Bronduff nodded his head dutifully. Rimean stared at his right hand, before closing it and looking in his general direction. “It will take me time to accept this change. I have been your champion longer than Foy.”

Malan nodded, Rimean was the second bestowed the title. Mostly because of how closely tied their natures were, healers both. But while he’d been forced to broaden his skill set, Rimean had gotten to remain pure. Of the two of them he got the feeling Rimean was now the better healer.

“Take your time.” He said heading towards where his two other gods were approaching from. “You have all of eternity to understand your new place in creation.” He received a short bow from Rimean, while Ryan clapped enthusiastically at the truth. “Forever and ever.” The Verm cited.

“Now then,” Malan said sending knowledge to the three godlings. “Since we’re taking a slower pace, perhaps its best for you three to practice traveling the Glen like a god.” Though his champions had died a number of times over the decades, thus awakening in the Glen. None had ever been there long enough to experiment.

Most mortals treated the Glen the same as the physical plan, with all its restrictions and rules. “You won’t ever tire here,” he said beginning to jog. “So there’s no need to walk unless you really want to.” They follow after him, the four racing towards their last two siblings.