Of the innumerable realms, the Realm of the Gods is a most sacred one. Few mortals ever see this realm for it is where Gods play their games moving mortals like pieces on a chessboard for their own amusement. Centuries past have left many of the gods apathetic to the struggles of mortals. Though most of them used to be mortals themselves.

  Once known as the Realm of the Pure Gods. The realm is now teaming with once mortal gods that overthrew their celestial masters long ago. Of these Gods sits a round table of twelve.

  “You have attained forbidden knowledge from the realm walker, you have been amongst the fallen gods for a long time now Lord Dios, but this is a desperate act even for you,” Garren God of Foresight bellows across the table.

  The god of foresight Garren is a large blue skinned male figure with four arms. His race, the Garren, from which he derives his name, is known as the fore-bearers of humanoids. It is believed that all humanoid species no matter their race are descendants of the Garren.

  “I am securing our future from the pending invasion, the Cult of the Immortal Father is led by a realmwalker that has this same forbidden knowledge and worse, he brings with him the religion of a new God, Yahweh, surely you see the threat this poses to all of us?” Dios questions.

  “While I do not condone the actions this one has taken to secure this knowledge,” a large horned coal skinned man says slurping his tongue as if tasting an image of torture in his mind like a delicacy, “Lord Dios does have a point, I’ve shaken down a few realm walkers myself and found that a religion such as the one that is sweeping up from the south had a similar god in their realm, the disciples of that cult all but eradicated any who believed anything outside of their gospel, and then when it was all said and done they preached forgiveness.”

  “Helladeus has a point, though I am dreadful to agree with it, does your foresight see into the future, or blind you from the past, Garren?” A dark-skinned man with a long ivory beard asks.

  “Orcenius, I’d thought you’d be backing me with this, what does the brood mother have to say about our current conundrum?” Garren asks.

  The unknown source of light illuminating the chamber containing the large round table flickers before being snuffed out for a few moments. When light returns to the chamber a large scantily dressed orcen female lays on her side across the table seductively. Her wrists are bound with broken chains, and a large enticing grin runs from ear to pointed ear. She moves slowly, crawling across the table on all fours like a vile seductress.

  When she reaches Garren’s seat she runs a clawed finger under his chin raising his head to meet her gaze.

  “Oh, young Garren, what can the Brood Mother do for you, or perhaps,” she adjusts herself moving to the edge of the table spreading her legs in an inviting manner, “what can you do for the Brood Mother?”

  “I find this highly inappropriate,” a young Druid woman protests.

  “Gaia is right, this council used to mean something, look what it’s been reduced to, amateur gods and horny ascended whores!” Lord Dios yells.

  “Speak for yourself Lord Dios, I distinctly remember you changing to a male and single-handedly helping me spawn the third generation of orcen,” the Brood Mother replies.

  “That was hundreds of years ago, and I regret wasting the intimacy on you,” Lord Dios snipes.

  “Shut the fuck up, all of you, we aren’t here to discuss petty squabbles or the history of our promiscuity, a threat lingers on the horizon, the Herald of a New Dawn lies before us and we argue amongst ourselves,” Helladeus yells slamming his fists on the table.

  “Finally, some reason, Jessica, if you would present the images I have recorded,” Dios says waving to his subordinate.

  “Gladly lord Dios.”

  Mateo’s eyes change and he stands firm meeting Dios’s gaze.

  “I’m going to kill you, it might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, it might not be for a hundred years, but I am going to kill you.”

  “That look in his eyes,” Helladeus pauses.

  “Every would-be hero has that same bullshit look before they are crushed by the unbearable weight of Destiny,” Garren stops looking over at a silver haired elf woman with pale blue eyes, “don’t they, Destiny?”

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  The woman rises holding out her hand and a projection of the realm of Gottes floats above the table. The three planets of the tri-planetary ring appear aligned on their course orbiting the solar star Omega as their three moons orbit in an infinity pattern around the three planets.

  Daedalus, land of the dwarves sits first in the ring. The planet is rich with minerals and beasts that not only feed upon them but excrete them.

  Terramundus, also known as Mundus. Is the center planet in the tri-planetary ring. This is the planet that Mateo and his group currently reside on.

  Zoi is a lush tropical planet and the third planet In the tri-planetary ring.

  Her pale eyes glow as images flash between her and Garren. Memories not yet made of a time yet to be. Actions that may or may not be aligned with consequences that may or may not be. She curls her fingers back snapping the image of the tri-planetary rotation out of existence. Her eyes dim and she returns to her seat.

  “The actions of one realm walker mean nothing in the vastness of Gottes.”

  “He has the Blessing of Heroldin,” a strange looking squid headed being says rising.

  “He has the blessing of an ascended that has shown herself for the first time in hundreds of years, sit the fuck down Cal,” Destiny replies.

  Dios stands sliding her chair under the large table.

  “If Destiny and the Foresight do not believe this mortal is a problem then I will let it be, but I will leave you with this warning, I took his eyes, and they radiate with energy from the void, which I may remind you, is a realm without gods.”

  Garren raises his hand as the Brood Mother rubs her cheek against his chest longingly.

  “He is not the first Voidwalker to tread upon Gottes, and he will not be the last, we will watch the Cult of the Immortal Father diligently and see how the realm reacts to its assault, and if we deem it necessary, then we will intervene,” Garren states disbanding the meeting with the wave of his hand.

  Only Garren and the Brood Mother remain.

  “Oh Garren, have you finally succumb to my seduction?” She asks.

  “There is a pawn among your servants that interests me,” Garren states plainly.

  “A pawn, and what do you want with my pawns?” She questions.

  “If the Cult of the Immortal Father make it as far as Obsidius I want you to give Terror Darklove this,” he states holding out a strange crystal.

  “Interfering in the affairs of mortals without the blessing of the council is a highly punishable crime, I would be risking a lot, and for what?” she says sliding one of her bra straps down her shoulder.

  “I will give you a legion of soldiers,” Garren replies.

  “In that case, can we do it at my place, it’s far more luxurious than this dusty old table.”

  “As you wish, Kataria,” Garren replies wrapping her in all four of his arms.

  In the chambers of the temple of Drakvania.

  “Lord Dios, are you sure I shouldn’t track him down and-,” Dios cuts Jessica off.

  “No, he is inconsequential to our goals now.”

  Jessica seems physically distraught by Lord Dios’s response. She has found a toy she enjoys playing with and is loathsome to give it up.

  “Don’t worry my little dragoness, you will have plenty of toys to play with in the coming days,” Dios’s humanoid avatar says running its hand across her soft cheek.

  “You’re right Lord Dios, the man is inconsequential, I am ready for more orders.”

  “Send the schematics to our captive dwarves on Daedalus, I expect samples of their work in the next few days.”

  “It will be done my lord,” Jessica says slamming her fist against her breastplate with a bow.

  In the marble halls of eternity where in reside Destiny and Fate, a darkness grows. What once was a pinprick now swells to the size of a fist on the sphere of eternity which tells the outcome of the end of times.

  “It grows closer my dear sister,” an ominous voice proclaims.

  “Fate, you know we cannot allow this scourge to grow, the imbeciles of the council are worried about a single realm walker when cruelty and death are rising from the south in the name of peace,” Destiny replies.

  An elven man shrouded in a dark cloak steps from the shadows gracing Destiny with his presence. Her brother, Fate.

  “You think we should get involved, that we should save the mortals?” He asks.

  “These invaders are from outside influences, it is within our abilities to strike down this madness before it murders it’s way through all of Gottes.”

  Fate raises his hand, and the sphere turns from a pure white besides the fist sized darkness to an image of villagers being slaughtered. Men, women, children begging for their lives as they are cut down like wheat to be harvested. Those that flee look back only to see their homes and neighbors burning in the distance.

  “Tell me sister, why do these savages deserve to be saved over the savages slaughtering them, what makes them worth saving when their forefathers did the same thing to attain the lands they now own, what makes this conquest any different from the others?” Fate asks.

  Destiny turns to him her pale blue eyes wide.

  “You wouldn’t,” she yells.

  She grips her brother’s shoulders as the dagger digs deep into her gut. Fate drives her to the wall twisting the dagger as she cries out in pain.

  “Please, please don’t, you’re my brother.”

  He slides the dagger to the side cutting open her gut.

  “Ahhhhhhh, fuck, fucking stop, please, brother please.”

  Fate steps back letting Destiny fall to the floor her intestines spilling into her lap as she begs. Crimson runs over the marble floors of the chamber. She coughs talking through immeasurable pain.

  “Why brother, I love you, why?”

  Fate crouches down brushing her long silver hair over her pointed ear. In her last few moments she looks past Fate to see a tall slender dark-skinned woman with four arms smiling. Her nebulous eyes glimmering like swirling unborn stars.

  “For Avarice?” Destiny chokes falling limp.

  “Excellent work my love, without Destiny, the people will have to rely on Fate,” the dark-skinned woman says holding out one of her arms.

  Fate runs his hand over Destiny’s eyes shutting them before he stands.

  “Goodnight, dear sister.”

  Garren wakes in the Brood Mother Kataria’s chambers. His eyes are wide, and he seems in a panic.

  “No, not her.”