The God shifts his gaze into an eye-roll and I feel the pressure leave me again.

"Damn, I keep forgetting how fragile mortals are. And you humans seem even more fragile than most," he states while closing his eyes.

I feel a thin hum build in the air and then pop before disappearing completely.

The God looks at me with the full weight of his gaze and I feel... nothing. "That should do it. I sealed my power so I don't keep accidentally making you piss yourself," he states while huffing out a laugh.

"Okay, yeah, I was scared as hell but I most certainly did not piss myself," I say while mentally reeling at the fact that I'm now backtalking a God just because he chose to hide his power.

He shifts his gaze downward and quirks an eyebrow at me. Looking toward where his gaze is directed, I see a dark patch of fabric.

"Okay, so I definitely pissed myself. In some kind of dreamscape? How does that even work?"

"Move past it, there's nothing to gain there," he retorts, and I find myself agreeing. Nothing to gain for now at least. Maybe far in the future if I survive long enough.

"So all that was on accident? Making me piss myself? Scaring the life out of me? Transporting me to a dead, grey wasteland only to appear suddenly and lock me in place in frigid terror?"

He averts his gaze sheepishly, "Well, yeah, to an extent. I meant to give you a little scare. A stern warning instead of the warm welcome you'd expect from something like this."

That was a stern warning? I might as well be made out of cotton candy compared to him.

"However, you're appalingly weak. Don't take it personally, it seems all humans are. So instead of intimidating you, well..." He trails off and gestures at me.

"Fair enough. So what do we do from here?" I ask in resignation.

"First you drop the mopey attitude. This is a huge opportunity, you just aren't able to see it yet."

I frown and move to retort but he interjects with a twinkle in his eye and a smile. "Oh calm down, I'm just teasing. Well, teasing in tone, this is an opportunity for you. I looked into your past a bit -don't give me that look, it's literally so easy I have to remind myself not to do it, you mortals are so touchy- and found that I just love you Earthlings' concept of trash talk. I figure we can mututally vent our frustrations at each other in a verbal manner, seeing as how literally any other method on my part will leave you trembling in fear or dead."

"That... is remarkably reasonable," I reply, completely unwilling to begin insulting a God to his face.

"Of course it is you syphilitic troglodyte," he quips back with a bright smile.

"Syphilitic..." I mumble before bursting out in laughter. I compose myself after a good thirty seconds and wipe a small tear from my eye. "Whatever you say, shitlicker."

"Ooh, insults relating to excrement and oral fixation, interesting choice!" He rolls his eyes and lets out a hearty chuckle. "This will work. These Earth languages -and English specifically- are so wonderfully, seemingly arbitrarily, complexly, descriptively inane. I love it. Now, time to move on." He makes a show of cracking his knuckles and stretching before continuing.

"I'm going to alter your soul slightly as well as modify your future path for growth. And any actual Paths you may have at this point." As if sensing my intent to interject, he speeds up and raises his voice slightly. "It doesn't hurt, quite the opposite actually. And if you're worried that my fiddling with your soul and all that will harm you, I just want you to know that I'd be hard pressed to worsen your potential even by so much as sneezing on you. That is, if sneezing on you wouldn't also happen to kill you. I guarantee that my help will improve your ability to survive in the future, as well as increase your chances of actually thriving. It might not end up being the most perfectly ideal improvement, but an improvement it will be. Besides," he leans forward and says with a sly grin, "how else will I cash in on my investment, hmm?"

I'm still a bit skeptical, however, I do see his point. I probably should be dead already, anything to increase my odds of survival will be worth it. Although...

"I've really only got one major worry. Is accepting this going to chain me to you like a dog? I'm all about vast amounts of power, sure, but I'm not interested in a lifelong ball-and-chain around my neck. I've never been too keen on having my actions owned by another."

He stares at me mutely for a second, then two. Face impassive, he manages to last all of ten seconds before exploding with laughter. Despite his power restriction it still leaves me with a mild headache.

"Nonono," he says, wiping a tear from his eye. "Oh that was a good one. Control you. Please. I'm the God of Reflex, not the God of Machinations or the God of Control or somesuch. For starters, just going out into the new world and interacting with it will help. But eventually I will need more from you," he whispers menacingly.

"Great acts of reflex!" he shouts to the sky. "I need you to complete great acts of reflex with your specific form, or your form with any upgrades you receive in the future," he reiterates. "I'll have more for you to do, but most of that is voluntary. Simply having agents in the worlds brings us power. I did want a more suitable pawn-" he coughts lightly and winks at me, "err, initiate rather, but someone fucked that up for me. Past selecting my initiates, I'm not all that interested in guiding or manipulating them overmuch. Too heavy a hand and I end up with powerful yet hapless sycophants. Too light a hand and most just... well, most just die and that isn't all too helpful for me either."

He interjects his monologue with a sigh and continues, "However, with the right selection criteria and early soul modification, I can greatly increase my initiates' chances of survival while still having the possibility to attain a powerful, yet uniquely capable agent. And that is significantly more useful to me. As well as interesting."

Given his personality and mannerisms so far, I'd wager that being interesting is far more important to him than being useful. Though it seems to me there is some overlap between the two.

"Alright then," I reply, "I'm sold." I trust Seph and honestly, I mostly believe the God. Besides, everything in this world has huge risks, what's one more in the face of my likely death if I don't take it?

He gestures and I stay seated while he rises to his feet. "This won't hurt a bit," he says before touching one hand to my head and one to my chest. I gasp a lungful of frigid air and lose consciousness.

I regain consciousness an unknown amount of time later while gasping desperately for breath. Again.

"I thought you said that wasn't going to hurt a bit, you limp dickweed!" I manage to croak out before sliding into a coughing fit.

"It really shouldn't have. Unless you think breathing heavily is pain?"

Well... shit, he's right. I'm not hurt. I am, however, exhausted, terrified, and so out of breath it seems very much like I'm hurt. "Yeah, alright, fine, no pain. Just waking up to the sensation of drowning is all. Extremely pleasant. And why did I lose consciousness? Someone else I know went through a different experience."

"Oh, you've already met another Prime Initiate? Interesting."

"Is that rare?" I ask.

"Not particularly. There are tons of Gods and Goddesses out there with enough power and influence to designate a Prime that coming into contact with another this early isn't completely surprising. After all, there are a great deal more Gods interested in Crucible than in any new world the Totality has acquired in recent memory. And no. I'm not going to get into that with you. It would be completely useless to you at this point and this," he gestures around himself emphatically, "won't last much longer."

He continues, "But to answer your original question, I knocked you out before performing the soul modification. And before you ask, I did it because you mortals always make the grossest fucking sounds every time I do it, without fail."

He seems irate despite his precautions and I tell him so. I don't tell him how petty and childish he sounds, however.

"I am irate," he responds. "Despite knocking you out -which works for pretty much all mortals I've come across so far, mind- you still made the most disgustingly awful noises. Whatever designed a cartilaginous meat-tube to facilitate communication between your species needs to be burned at the stake for eternity."

"Well, we may have been designed with a... cartilaginous meat-tube, as you say...although it's also widely thought we evolved to be the way we are," I reply while holding back laughter. This cosmically powerful being that can kill me with an errant cough is freaked out by noises. If I'm hearing it right, sure, yeah, the noises are probably moans of pleasure or something like that, gross. But priceless nonetheless.

That gets his attention. "Hmm, yes. That was actually quite prevalent in Earth's culture now that you mention it, give me a second."

After he says this I notice his gaze drift to the side and his eyes glass over for a fraction of a second. I likely wouldn't have even noticed if not for my high Perception.

His gaze returns and he begins his reply. "Hmm. I can't get a full read on what exactly happened to Earth or it's history in general, but I can tell that what you say is accurate, at least to an extent. Most, if not all life on Earth evolved naturally to be in its current state. That is... uniquely phenomenal. I've never heard of such..." He trails off while muttering quitely to himself.

"So, wait, you're serious? Human life evolved to be the way it is? And all you had to do was think about it for a second and you knew? What the hell, how-"

He waves my neverending train of questions away and waits for silence before responding. "Human life, plant life, all the good stuff, yes. Though there is a significant amount I can't figure out. That being said, our time here is up. I'd highly suggest not interacting with your status at all for at least an hour." He takes note of my non-commital gaze before continuing. "That is, unless you think you'll enjoy the sensation of flaming sandpaper on your soul? Granted, that is only the closest representation I can think to convey to you, it will be significantly more painful," he states with a wicked grin.

"I get it, you fucked with my soul and status and I need to heal before using it again. No need to be a sadistic shit," I reply with a chuckle.

"There's the attitude! Now brace yourself!" He shouts and I feel the world fall away. Not before I sense the overwhelming din of battle, however. Screams loose from raw, bloody throats and the crash of destroyed terrain all layer over the scent of smoke and ash. I feel the overwhelming, reassuring pressence of the God of Reflex -I can't believe I forgot to learn his name- and hear a thunderous roar before the pull of the void becomes too great and I slip dizzyingly into blackness.