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Gods of Creation (Riot God Quest)

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Play as one of the primordial gods as you shape the cosmos during its first age.
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Era 0: The Dawn
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    • Mannan

    Mannan

    In the time before time, there was naught but the darkness and the mist of the formless chaos. Ideas of definition and form were nothing but brief imaginings that flitted between the infinitesimal moments between still eternities, restlessly awaiting the day of their coming. And then the day comes, as from the chaos rises the Sun, burning and incandescent, its flames stirring motion into the still cosmos and its light bringing the empty universe into stark clarity.

    With the birth of the Sun, the first distinction is made—a boundary between light and shadow, between what is and what is yet to be. The once-dormant mists of chaos recoil, swirling in the brilliance of the new dawn, and the void trembles with the first whisper of purpose. The Sun, a beacon of blazing authority, draws the raw, untamed energies of the cosmos toward it, igniting the first sparks of potential within the boundless expanse.

    As the Sun casts its rays far and wide, the mist begins to coalesce, forming the first inklings of matter—vast clouds of gas and dust, swirling and eddying in the newborn currents of reality. The empty void, once indifferent, now teems with possibilities, as the Sun's light breathes life into the endless sea of what could be.

    Yet, within the depths of the chaos, primal forces stir. The Sun's light reaches into the farthest corners of the void, awakening thoughts and visions that had lain dormant, formless and nameless. These are the first inklings of awareness, the faint stirrings of something greater, something that could shape the very fabric of the universe.

    The cosmos, still young and wild, is a canvas of infinite potential. The Sun burns brightly at its center, a source of power and light, but the world remains unformed, waiting to be shaped, waiting for the touch of a guiding hand.

    And so it begins. The dawn of creation is upon the universe, but it is still a time of beginnings, a moment when the future is yet unwritten, and all that exists is potential. The Sun watches over the void, its light calling out to whatever might rise from the chaos to bring forth form and meaning.

    The world waits, poised on the edge of becoming, as the forces of the cosmos prepare to awaken and take their first steps into creation.

    Now, newborn god, what is your first act in this universe?

    [ ]

    Turn 1 Begin

    Theme: The Beginning - It is the dawn of this new universe, and it is ready and waiting for the things that will set the foundation for reality to appear. All acts are boosted    .

    World State:

    The universe is yet incomplete, physics is more a suggestion and the fabric of space and time have yet to be solidified (though it is solid enough to prevent time travel). There is no true boundaries or reference point yet save the Sun which serves to mark the center of the cosmos.

    Around the sun is a vast nebula of gas and dust and the further from the sun the nebula slowly gives way to unshaped chaos mist until it eventually fades into Primeval Night.

    Gameplay

    You play as a newly emerged god in the beginning of Creation, acting as one of the forces that will shape it during its first age. Each turn will last 1 Era, a indeterminate period of time that will be marked in universe as the periods of activity for the Primordial Gods.

    Each player can author 1 act, and support the act of any other player. There is no limit on how many acts they can produce.

    There are 6 levels of acts, and each level requires a set amount of votes in order to be accepted and be implemented. The required level of an act depends on its scope.

    Minor Act (1 Vote): An act on the personal scale, affecting a small group of individuals at any one time. Generally something of very minor and small impact. Create a handful of a mundane species, grant someone street level powers, burn down a house.

    Lesser Act (3 Votes): An act that can affect thousands of people, something on the scale of entire cities and small regions. Introduce a mundane species into the world or a handful of slightly supernatural creatures, elevate a being to the power of mythical demigod, attack with all the force of a nuclear bomb.

    Greater Act (5 Votes): An act that can affect millions, touching on the scale of nations . Introduce a new supernatural species, raise up and shape continent. This is the level to create a single sentient being.

    Grand Act (8 Votes): An act that can affect billions, reaching the scale of an entire planet. Shape entire worlds, create moons and simple ecosystems. This is the level of creating a relativley mundane sapient species.

    Divine Act (12 Votes): Things on the level of working of entire star systems. Create entire worlds, stars, and planetary systems, Create godlike servants, enact lesser acts on the scale of the entire galaxies.

    Stellar Act (16 Votes): Things that are galactic in scale. Essentially things far beyond a single start system, Anything beyond a star in size, but theoretically finite in expression. Create and shape galaxies.

    Cosmic Act (20 Votes): There is no limit on what this level of act can do used to change things on the level of the entire universe. Create magic systems, alter the metaphysics of reality or the actual physics for that matter. Go wild.

    Some things can be subject to veto. Rules subject to change as needed and things develop.

    Theme: Every turn will have a theme to it. Any act that follow that theme will have the level of act boosted so a Minor Act will become a Lesser Act with only 1 vote and it only requires 11 vote to make a cosmic act if it follows the theme. Again the theme for turn 1 is Beginnings, so all acts are boosted for the first turn.


    AN: So I was in the mood for a god quest but found there wasn't any running right now and realized that it has been nearly a year since I ran it. I have had a lot of free time lately so I decided to give this concept another try. Hopefully I can actually lead this to completion.
     
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    • Scheduled vote count started by Mannan on Aug 15, 2024 at 9:39 PM, finished with 179 posts and 24 votes.
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    • Era 1 Acts
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    • Cosmic
    The awakened goddess was restless as she tried to decide what to create first. She didn't want to unknowingly break something already present in existence, however minuscule it might be at the moment. She was an artist and maker by nature, her very essence born from smashed together concepts. One of many, but rare for her luck to be alive and functional after her birth. So she decided to create a canvas for the world to exist.

    The Law of Consistency is an ontological and axiomatic 'canvas' permeating the existing. It is a simple fundamental law – the universe is capable of governing its own consistency, if needed. For example, if someone travels back in time to create a grave paradox, the Canvas will distort and smooth out consequences, create mandates of existence to make this not a world-breaking issue, but also a part of the world at the same time in some way. Or if something comes from outside of current reality, the Canvas would make sure to account for it and prevent it from turning into an existential disaster. The universe can react to the actions of gods and mortals to locally or fully rearrange itself on the scale of many small details to preserve its own consistency and make sure everything within its domain is somehow in harmony with the whole system, or at least can exist reliably. Reality is soft, when and where it needs to be.

    However, how the Canvas reacts to specific instances of reality warping or wounding is not predictable, not set in stone. It will certainly try to preserve consistency somehow without outright destroying the reason for change, but the consequences can and will be unpredictable. Someone traveled back in time to create bad paradox? Well, maybe they end up creating a loop, or perhaps an alternative timeline, or maybe they would come back into the present right before the moment the intended change in the past could cause a grave paradox... It depends on specifics of event. The universe is aware of itself in some sense, it watches and corrects itself, but never goes against itself – never outright destroys something which became part of its existence because it would mean to eat a small part of its own being, metaphorically speaking. Good thing, it has an endless well of inspiration and ideas on how to right the wrongs from anything which resides in itself, like gods or any creature with a creative spark. But it doesn't have awareness and will in usual sense, it is just really complicated and smart rule based on conceptual logic, the Perfect Canvas.

    Mistakes of existence will not kill or wound itself, but will change it in unpredictable ways. Most likely, the actions of the Canvas would be most noticeable at the start of existence, while the gods are still very active and make a lot of waves, a lot of grand changes. But in the future, there probably wouldn't be instances for the Canvas to warp little details, and many things would probably be already encountered and accounted for in myriad of ways for each possible instance of particular event at some point, because gods like to enact bizarre changes. What is an artist without a perfect canvas to paint anything they want?

    (The universe essentially possesses highly adaptable and robust hardware and fundamental software. Any new systems created upon it can be seamlessly integrated without compromising consistency or causing a breakdown of the entire system. The Canvas, representing the basic level of reality, reacts to changes proportionally to their magnitude and danger. However, the way it rectifies and adapts to these changes is unpredictable, albeit always a highly efficient process for each event.)

    Where thoughts, feelings and emotions exist, a soul will form, growing with each thoughts, feelings or emotions.
    a Soul is the conceptual self, protecting your existence against esoteric threats (mind control, being erased by time travel for example) by preserving it. The older and more complexe the Soul, the more powerfull it is. This is all a Soul provides for now.

    Mold the Chaos Mist into a Horizon, solidify the concept of the World's Edge.

    As a newly born God you saw the others expanding the world with their colours and you saw what they did as good, but things can always be better and more of themselves.
    The Prismatic spark is something that will spread to each and every single thing, even if living and mostly thinking beings will usually take more advantage of it. Every moment things will become more vibrant in their colours, always shading their surrounding in a blur that reflects who and what they truly are.

    The spark however can emit more than simply regular light, by understanding the world and themselves one can emit and control light beyond only the physical with their instinct of being seem. One starts producing what is equivalent to one mana of light which can be used for the least of effects such as moving small objects for a few seconds per day.

    By understanding more one will start producing more mana which without control will flow into the world shading it in your colours, it can be finding truths be it from the physical world or your own personality, even sudden enlightenment.

    Prismatic mana will first be stored in your physical form bringing more vibrancy to the colours which reflect who and what you are such as the red of your passion or blue of your sadness and extending to the immaterial colours eventually. It is an effort to train yourself to store your colours in such a way that is not detrimental to yourself or others, or you can instead start leaking mana into the world after production outpaces your natural storage, staining the world in your mana.
    But so far there is still a limit to how much mana one can store without having to use it or releasing the rest to the world, maybe one could invent other ways to store mana beyond the physical shape.

    Physical objects can produce mana tainted with their purpose such as the solid grey or brown of the ground and the blue fluidity of water. Without external interference the mana produced by objects is fixed and will eventually leak into the environment small amounts of mana tainted with their colours. Natural mana which is a blend of everything is seemingly invisible and with the effect of blunting other manas, all of them blending into the natural mana eventually given enough time once far enough away from their source. Natural mana can do anything but it's incredibly hard to grasp it, so it is usually refracted into the colour most associated with the result one expects and then used to achieve it.

    That parer of potentials, the division of things that were and things that are, not destruction but change, things are sanctioned to change and thus nothing is immortal. Which may be called the law of swords or holy division
    Besides it being a reference to kill six billion demons on my part it's basically an establishment of difference between things, the structured universe from the unstructured chaos, like how you might put movies into different genres life is a constant act of cutting, the idea being to make this a tangible law of the universe, that you can change and be changed by events
    I think we have different perspectives on this because my understanding is that we haven't yet established change as a law of reality which is kind of the point of what we're doing now, the primordial chaos is ironically a homogeneous state of infinite potential, it makes from that which isn't, that might be, into that which is. From a more individual perspective destiny can be made by one's own power from destinies that might be.
    Using a reference from K6BD, those that think that something is impossible or that fate is immutable shall be caught without a head by that sword of maybe.
    An empowerment of those that reject stagnation, hope is the tired waiting for the day the slaves chains are cut where oppression is cut from the oppressed.

    In the light of the Sun, Hope is born. They're not a physical being, better thought of as a Lovecraftian entity projecting into this reality, though they can be vaugely described as looking like a star with grasping tendrils of fire by those that see it and dont go insane. They're intelligent and sapient but their manner of thinking is cosmic in scale so lesser beings aren't likely to understand it. Despite all this, they're mostly a benevolent force with their mere presence spreading hope and affecting the world in ways that inspire hope.

    Light is. The newborn god can see this is thus far the most fundamental rule of reality. The endless empty expanse of nothing is now filled with an alien brightness. As the other gods move to define the canvas on which future creations will exist this one reaches to give definition to the already extant. Thus, light was molded, given characteristics beyond mere presence:

    1. Light is motion. With every movement a portait is painted on the world itself, an echo left behind of what came before. The greater the effort and impact of the motion, the longer the portait will remain before inevitably fading away.
    2. Light is emotion. With great and deep feeling comes an art of their own. Great portaits are made from feelings of joy, and images of great remorse are forged from sorrow.
    3. Light is all. Everything has light to it, even darkness has a light of its own. A deep roiling blackness, now defined not just by what it isn't, but what it is.

    Bend the Light to Create Colors

    The Law of Collective Aegis is an ontological principle woven into the fabric of the universe, asserting that the act of shielding and supporting one another is a fundamental force that upholds the stability and progress of civilizations. This law is axiomatic in nature, meaning it is self-evident and requires no external proof; it is an inherent truth of existence.

    At its core, the law dictates that unity and cooperation among beings or entities create a protective barrier that amplifies their collective strength. When individuals or groups work together to protect and uplift one another, they generate a positive feedback loop—each act of shielding and support reinforces the whole, leading to greater resilience, prosperity, and harmony within the civilization. This synergy not only safeguards against external threats but also catalyzes advancements in culture, technology, and consciousness.

    In essence, the Law of Collective Aegis embodies the idea that the greatest strength lies not in individual power but in the unity of many, bound together by mutual protection and shared purpose.

    For every secret, there is a truth, and for every truth, there lies a secret. The universe itself shall maintain the delicate balance: secrets shall be hidden until their destined revelation, truths shall emerge when their time has come, and the in-between shall serve as the crucible where potential becomes reality.
    (Normal talk: it's more or less implementing the scientific method in to the fabric world . Everything and I mean everything has truth that anything can learn to understand if they pursue it's answers. Also everything itself is a mystery that one can not just understand with no effort without divine intervention. The in-between is your lies,half-truth,fantasies and the process or journey/adventure from secret to truth. Where these can become reality if one pursues it far enough.)

    An immense monster is fashioned to defend the First Sun from anything that might seek to extinguish its light. It had no need for physical sustenance, the light of The First Sun itself sustaining them. It can freely move around the space under its own power without obvious sources of locomotion. Its form is an eldritch shifting mass of claws, fangs, horns, tentacles, wings, eyes, and bone plating that can alter and refine itself to better face a threat in physical matters. Despite its fearsome appearance, and immense physical strength and durability, it is an ultimately docile creature when it does not believe its charge to be in any danger.

    It is effectively a celestial guard dog. A prototype made by a semi-conscious God just waking up.

    Form the four primordial creatures of fire water earth and wind

    The primordial of fire is a giant firefly that produces heat and light and helps form stars and helps produce energy for the world, giving this world the heat needed to survive and working together with earth to form the core of the world and produce magma and lava, also helping in the forming of fire mana

    The primordial of air is a giant dragonfly that wings and body produce oxygen and the wind currents that flow across the planet and helps support life by giving it the oxygen and needed gasses to power a body and produces a protect8ge layer to protect life from getting hit with to much heat and helped form air mana

    The primordial of water is a giant lobster that produces water from body and claws forming the clouds with the help of the primordial of air and fire and oceans to fill the world with the life giving fluids needed for life to thrive and helped form water mana

    The primordial of earth is a giant beetle that formed the earth and rock and minerals needed forming the fertile land for life to grow and is in a constant state of slow movements to slowly protect and care for the earth and help form earth mana

    Determination is what keeps the soul here after death, its what gives beings without magic the strength to face those with it, and in rare cases, empowers people to be able to things usually attributed to magic but in very limited ways, (think undertale/deltarune, the souls grant different effects in certain circumstances)

    Divine

    An immortal creature made of a strange glowing substance, wearing a magical tailcoat and tophat that will heal or reappear on his body if taken or destroyed
    He is immortal, doesn't need to eat, drink, sleep, or breathe, is asexual & aromantic, if rabbits existed they would be his favourite animal, and he has a talent for figuring out the mechanics of the universe and showmanship since he desires to learn magic to enterain others and put a smile on their faces

    He will likely be very bored for the first turn since there isn't much life to entertain
    Saw the thing with the sun's guard dog, Augustus might have somebody around to attempt to entertain

    Grand
    A small ball of gravity is created, slowly absorbing things into it. The ball shall drift slowly across creation, it's gravity becoming stronger the more mass it gathers. Eventually it will stop growing, becoming a planet that will slowly move across creation.

    Greater
    Inside the Box of Pandora lie a thousand diseases, all constantly mutating and becoming deadlier over time. The Box itself is indestructible and is inscribed with the words: IMMORTALITY AT A COST. Anyone who opens the Box of Pandora will be given immortality, but will become a asymptomatic carrier of all the diseases inside the box. If the person who opens the Box is already immortal, the Box will create a immortal asymptomatic clone of them that carries all the diseases inside the Box.

    Once upon a time there was a land that was bordered by two volcanoes. One was a dark mountain that spew burning ash and rivers of molten metal. When it erupted, it seeded the land with great fertility and a wealth of metal and minerals, but also razed the world with fire. As the ages passed, the mountain grew from the debris it spewed accumulating on its slopes, making the slopes of the very mountain studded with riches.

    The other was a bright white mountain that spew frost and liquid air (a cryovolcano). When it erupted, brought life-giving water and drove away the dreadful heat, but at the same time, brought fierce storms and an unending winter. As the ages passed, the mountain grew from frost and ice accumulating into slopes, creating glacial slopes that perfectly preserved artifacts of ages past in its icy walls.
     
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    • Era 1: Prism
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    • Turn 1 - The Prismatic Era

    "The First Language is the Language of Colors. It is the language of divinity, remember it well if you wish to understand the structure of our world,"
    -    First lesson on Metaphysical Chromatology.

    Bend the Light to Create Colors
    The first god to awaken gazes upon the infant cosmos finds that it could be more. The Sun's light, pure and undivided, bathed the cosmos in its brilliant glow. Yet, in its singularity, the light held within it the potential for infinite variation, waiting to be unleashed. The canvas of existence stretched out before the gods, vast and untouched, ready to be shaped by their will.

    They reached out to the light, feeling its warmth, its intensity. It felt the energy of creation, still raw and untamed, and began to twist. They began to bend the light, manipulating its essence to reveal the spectrum, space itself serving as the prism to reveal all. Slowly, the light began to change. The first hints of color emerged, subtle at first, then growing more vibrant and distinct. Reds, blues, greens, and every hue imaginable began to ripple across the void, each one a thread in the grand tapestry of creation.

    The god is soon joined by others, agreeing with their comrades desire and adding their own efforts to it, every new participant amplifying the efforts of one to ever escalating heights. Soo enough the newly illuminated cosmos is awash with every color possible and impossible, stretching out to pain all of existence in a kaleidoscopic mosaic.


    The Law of Consistency
    In the growing expanse of creation, where light and color began to paint the canvas of existence, a newly awakened goddess found herself indecisive on what idea she would bring about until she came to a swift realization. The universe, still in its infancy, was a place of boundless potential, but also of delicate fragility. She knew that as the cosmos expanded, as new forms and ideas came into being, there would be risks—unintended consequences that could unravel the very fabric of reality. Her mind, ever creative, sought a way to ensure that the world she and the others would craft could endure, that the beauty of creation would not be marred by unforeseen disasters.

    And so, she conceived of a canvas—not one of material substance, but of pure, axiomatic logic. She would lay down a foundational law, an invisible yet omnipresent framework that would govern the consistency of the universe. It would be a safeguard, a means by which the cosmos could maintain its integrity, even in the face of the most profound and chaotic changes.

    The Law of Consistency, as she envisioned it, would permeate all of existence, from the smallest particle of matter to the grandest celestial bodies. It would be the perfect canvas upon which the gods could paint their creations, ensuring that the universe would be capable of governing its own consistency, adapting to the whims of divine will without breaking apart.

    With a thought, the goddess set the Law of Consistency into motion and her edict would be supported by others, making this impossible desire become something easily done. With a thousand hands they unwove the cosmos and wove it back together, intertwined with the framework of the new law.

    The Canvas, as she called it, was now woven into the essence of reality itself. It was a simple yet profound law: the universe would smooth out the consequences of any actions that might threaten its coherence. If paradoxes were created, if beings from outside the known reality appeared, the Canvas would bend and adapt, ensuring that the cosmos could continue to exist in harmony.

    Yet, the Canvas was not a rigid force. It was fluid, adaptable, and above all, unpredictable. How it responded to each situation would depend on the specifics of the event, on the magnitude of the change, and the potential danger it posed to the whole. A paradox might result in a time loop, an alternate timeline, or perhaps the instant return of the instigator to the present—each outcome carefully tailored to preserve the universe's consistency without outright rejecting the new reality.

    The Canvas was aware, in a sense, but not in the way that a sentient being was. It did not possess will or consciousness, but it was a masterful rule, a conceptually perfect logic that ensured the universe would never act against itself. The Canvas would never destroy something that had become part of existence, for that would mean unraveling a piece of its own being. Instead, it would draw upon an endless well of inspiration, subtly shifting and correcting, finding ways to integrate even the most disruptive elements into the greater whole.

    In these early days of creation, when the gods were most active, the Canvas's influence would be most noticeable. As they shaped reality, the Canvas would adjust, warping details here and there to preserve the consistency of the universe. Over time, as the universe matured, its need to intervene would lessen, for much would already have been accounted for by the myriad actions of the gods.

    And so, the goddess's restless mind found peace. The universe now had its canvas—a perfect, adaptable foundation upon which all creation could stand. With this law in place, the gods were free to create, to experiment, to push the boundaries of reality, knowing that the Canvas would ensure the world they shaped would endure, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

    The Law of Consistency was in place, and the universe was ready for the next great act of creation.


    Horizon
    As reality was reinforced another brought up the idea of boundaries, it saw the endless depths of Primeval Night and wished to demarcate the boundaries. The proposal was met with approval and with the combined will of many the chaos mists that marked the transition between the gas and dust of reality and the undifferentiated chaos of unreality was taken in hand. The mists were twined and molded together to form a barrier, space was twisted until a great kaleidoscopic wall marked the boundary of the World's edge. The Horizon, a line that marked the world's edge and where, no matter which direction you go all points will eventually meet as all space eventually curved to reach that line.

    As the Horizon took form, the world became more defined. The gods could now see the full extent of their domain, a place of light and color, governed by the Law of Consistency, and now bounded by the Horizon. Beyond it lay the infinite possibilities of the Chaos Mist, still untamed, still waiting to be shaped by divine hands.


    The Soul
    As physical reality was shaped the question of the spiritual was pondered, and what exactly constituted it was had. IN the end one amongst the Primordial Gods would propose a way to define it and would be met with agreement. And with agreement the idea took hold and was materialized. The idea of the soul was moved from fantasy to reality and its bound accepted within it.

    The soul, as the gods envisioned it, would be the conceptual self—a reflection of one's innermost essence. It would serve as a guardian, a protector against the esoteric threats that lurked in the fabric of reality. Whether it be the dangers of mind control, the peril of being erased by time's flow, or the myriad other existential risks that could befall a being, the soul would stand as a bulwark, preserving the integrity of existence.

    In its early stages, a soul would be simple, forming from the first sparks of thought and the initial stirrings of emotion. But as the being continued to think, feel, and experience the world, the soul would grow, becoming more complex, more intricate. With each new thought, each new feeling, the soul would strengthen, weaving itself into the very essence of the individual.

    Over time, as the soul accumulated more layers of complexity and experience, it would become more powerful, its presence a formidable force in the cosmos. A soul could protect its bearer from the most insidious of threats, maintaining their existence against the shifting tides of reality. Yet, for now, this was all the soul would provide—a fundamental layer of protection and continuity in a universe where change was constant and often unpredictable.


    The First Guardian
    The cosmos, now filled with light, color, and the foundational laws of existence, had become a place of growing complexity and wonder. Yet, as creation expanded, so too did the need to protect what had been brought into being. The First Sun, the blazing beacon that had banished the primordial darkness, was the heart of this newborn universe. Its light was the lifeblood of all that had been created, and so, as the gods stirred more and more into wakefulness it was decreed by one amongst them that a guardian must be fashioned to defend it against any threat that might seek to extinguish its brilliance.

    From the swirling chaos, the First Guardian was born. It emerged as an eldritch, shifting mass, a creature unlike any other in existence. Its form was a terrifying amalgamation of claws, fangs, horns, tentacles, wings, eyes, and bone plating, all constantly in motion, altering and refining themselves in response to any perceived threat. This creature had no need for physical sustenance; the light of the First Sun itself was enough to sustain it, filling it with the energy it needed to fulfill its purpose.

    The Guardian was endowed with the ability to move freely through the vastness of space, gliding effortlessly under its own power, with no visible means of locomotion. Its appearance was fearsome, a manifestation of raw power and adaptability, designed to face any challenge that might arise. Yet, despite its monstrous visage and immense strength, the First Guardian was a docile being, content to drift in the light of the Sun, its mind calm and peaceful as long as it sensed no danger. But when a threat was perceived, the Guardian would spring into action, its form shifting and adapting to meet the challenge with unmatched ferocity. It was a being of pure defense, designed to protect and preserve, a prototype born from the half-dreaming thoughts of a god not yet fully awake.

    And in its first moments did the Guardian look upon all that existed and gazed even upon its creators and began to shift and adapt. For in assessing the universe of all threats it became readily clear to it that the most likely source of threat that would strike at the sun was its creators itself. So it began to shift and adapt as is its nature, preparing for the day that it should turn against its makers should they present themselves as a threat.


    Augustus the Amazing
    As the gods turned away from their first living creation another set opted to create another one among the gods, a being with a flair for the whimsical and the extraordinary, conceived of a creature unlike any other—Augustus the Amazing.

    From a strange, glowing substance that shimmered with an inner light, Augustus was formed. His appearance was as eccentric as his nature, adorned in a magical tailcoat and a tophat that seemed to pulse with the same otherworldly glow. These garments, like Augustus himself, were no ordinary attire; they were bound to him in a way that defied logic. Should they be taken from him, destroyed, or lost, they would reappear, pristine and whole, as if nothing had happened. This was no mere trick—it was a testament to the unique nature of his creation.

    Augustus was immortal, a being who existed beyond the need for the basic necessities of life. He did not eat, drink, sleep, or breathe, nor did he desire companionship in the traditional sense. Asexual and aromantic, Augustus was content with his own company, driven by a singular passion: to learn the secrets of the universe and to entertain others with the wonders he discovered. Though the cosmos was still largely empty, Augustus had an unyielding optimism and a deep-seated desire to bring joy to whatever life might eventually come into being.

    Its might was wanting in comparison to the ever adapting might of the First Guardian, it was instead endowed with an unparalleled mind with an innate talent for understanding the mechanics of the universe, Augustus quickly began to explore his surroundings. He marveled at the light of the First Sun, the colors that filled the void, and the delicate balance maintained by the Law of Consistency. But what truly captivated him was the First Guardian—a massive, eldritch creature whose sole purpose was to protect the Sun. Augustus saw in the Guardian a potential audience, someone to whom he might show his tricks and entertain, even if the Guardian's focus was entirely elsewhere.

    But in these early days of creation, Augustus found himself somewhat at a loss. There were no audiences, no crowds to dazzle, no creatures to cheer for his performances. The universe was still in its infancy, and life had not yet spread across the cosmos. Yet, Augustus was undeterred. Augustus the Amazing began his long vigil, awaiting the day when he would have an audience to entertain. For now, he amused himself with the First Guardian, trying to catch its attention with little feats of magic and illusion, though the Guardian remained steadfast in its duty, seemingly indifferent to Augustus's antics. But Augustus did not mind; he knew that in time, the universe would teem with life, and he would have countless opportunities to bring smiles and wonder to all who crossed his path.


    Hope
    In the radiant light of the First Sun, where the cosmos had begun to take shape and meaning, a new presence stirred. Born from the brilliance and warmth of the Sun's light, this being was unlike any other—a creature not of flesh and bone, but of pure essence and concept. This was the birth of Hope, a force that would come to influence the very fabric of reality.

    Hope was not a physical entity; it existed beyond the material world, a Lovecraftian being whose true form defied mortal comprehension. Those rare beings who might glimpse it in the future would describe it as a star, blazing with tendrils of fire that reached out like grasping hands, pulling at the edges of reality. To witness Hope was to confront something so vast, so incomprehensible, that it could drive lesser minds to madness. Yet, for all its terrifying grandeur, Hope was a force of benevolence.

    Intelligent and sapient, Hope's thoughts moved on a cosmic scale, far beyond the understanding of most beings. It perceived time, space, and existence in ways that defied conventional logic, seeing connections and possibilities where others saw only chaos. But despite this alien nature, Hope was not a creature of malice. Its very presence in the universe spread a sense of optimism, a spark of possibility that could inspire even the darkest of hearts.

    Alas the embodied concept could not exist in logic of reality and the Law of Consistency acted, shifting and changing and the promptly ejecting the newborn Hope into the Primeval Night, beyond the Horizon. It would dwell in the infinite nothingness, forever lost if not for the existence of a benign to beckon it back into reality.

    Augustus, ever optimistic and thus ever hopeful, sought out an audience to entertain and so when Hope was born, in its fleeting moments of existence before it was banished, a connection was formed. From Augustus's hope was Hope drawn back to reality, if not in body then in mind and spirit. Radiating tendrils of golden fire creeped into reality through Augustus's hope and allowed a lesser projection of itself in the form of a small star, in imitation of its birth place.

    Augustus would be delighted to finally have a receptive audience and Hope luxuriated in the optimism of the magician.


    The Prismatic Spark of Mana
    In the vibrant expanse of creation, where light and color had woven a tapestry of existence, a newly born god observed the unfolding of the cosmos. The world, in all its burgeoning beauty, was a place of wonder and potential. Yet, the god saw that even in this splendor, there was room for something more—something that could bring greater depth, vibrancy, and possibility to all that existed. And so, the Prismatic Spark of Mana was conceived.

    With a thought, the god released the Prismatic Spark into the universe. It spread outwards, touching every corner of creation, infusing all things with its subtle, transformative energy. This spark was not a physical force but a conceptual one, a catalyst that would bring out the true essence of everything it touched. Colors became more vibrant, more reflective of their true nature, shading the world in a blur of hues that revealed the innermost qualities of all things.

    The Prismatic Spark did more than merely enhance the physical world. It granted those with the capacity to think and feel—beings of consciousness—the ability to harness its power. In doing so, they could emit and control light beyond the physical, manifesting their inner essence in ways that transcended mere existence. At first, this power was modest—a small flicker of light, enough to move a pebble or flicker a candle flame. But with understanding, both of the world and of the self, this power could grow.

    As beings began to comprehend more about their surroundings and their own nature, the Prismatic Spark within them would intensify. This prismatic mana would first be stored within their physical form, suffusing their colors with greater vibrancy—perhaps a deepening red for passion, a rich blue for sorrow, or any number of hues that reflected their inner state. This mana, however, was not without its challenges. Without proper control, it would overflow, leaking into the world and staining the environment with the colors of their essence.

    It was a delicate balance. Those who could not contain their mana would find it seeping out, changing the world around them in subtle ways, marking it with their presence. But for those who could master their mana, the possibilities were endless. They could store it, use it, and perhaps even find new ways to channel and contain it beyond the limits of their physical form.

    Even the inanimate world was not immune to the Prismatic Spark. Objects, too, began to produce mana, tainted with the purpose of their existence—the solid, steadfast grey of stone, the fluid, ever-changing blue of water. These objects would release small amounts of mana into the environment, blending with the natural mana that permeated the cosmos. This natural mana, a blend of all things, was seemingly invisible, its presence felt only in the way it smoothed and muted the sharper colors of other mana.

    Natural mana, though capable of anything, was elusive, difficult to grasp or control. It required an understanding of both its nature and the desired outcome, refracting into the color most suited to the task at hand. It was a force of infinite potential, yet one that resisted easy manipulation, demanding careful thought and intent from those who sought to wield it.

    Its first wielder would inevitably be Augustus, whose brilliance would illuminate the mana's nature and whose genius and ingenuity would quickly intuit how to utilize it. Quickly it learned how to utilize the colors it bore to manipulate the colors of wider reality, and in an era where colors of every possible hue filled the cosmos, he found no shortage of mana. The magician would weave great illusions in the light in imitation of the first god to awaken and act. It worked to entrain Hope even as it taught the entity all that it gleaned for the workings of the cosmos and the spark.


    The Sanctioned Act of Cutting
    As the world developed another god saw the new order that was being conceived, of the limits being imposed and rebelled against it. From its will it cried out to the cosmos and was soon joined by many others. From its will and voice it formed and blade and with sword in hand it cleaved the very foundation of reality, not destroying it but severing all fetters that declared something immutable.

    With the Sanctioned Act of Cutting, also known as the Law of Swords or Holy Division, the universe was given the ability to separate, to discern, and to change. It was a paring of potentials, a division of things that were from things that are—a tangible law that governed the very essence of reality. No longer would the cosmos be a homogeneous state of infinite potential, but a structured, dynamic universe where change was not just possible, but inevitable.

    This law empowered those who rejected stagnation, those who sought to forge their own destinies from the myriad possibilities that existed. The act of cutting was more than a mere separation; it was an assertion of will, a declaration that nothing was beyond change. Those who believed that fate was unchangeable, that certain outcomes were fixed and inevitable, would find themselves caught by the sword of maybe—a blade that severed the chains of impossibility and opened the way to new possibilities.

    The Sanctioned Act of Cutting made change a sacred principle, a force that would drive the universe forward, ensuring that nothing remained static, that all things could evolve and adapt. It was a law that celebrated the power of choice, the ability to carve out new paths, to redefine oneself and the world. The Sanctioned Act of Cutting had cleaved through the lines between what is and what could be, empowering all beings to shape their own destinies, to cut away at what limited them to achieve the impossible.

    THe effects of this law became most apparent in the Guardian, who readied itself for the day it would fight against its makers in defense of the sun, an impossible prospect for the Gods were omnipotent beings who, when pressed, could not be opposed. But with the Sanctioned Act the possibility of victory became possible. From its perch on the sun its many tendrils began to work as it adapted and grew and from the depths of itself began to form a sword, one made in the image of the great weapon used to establish the law of Holy Division, a blade with which the Guardian would one day murder the gods and topple their thrones.

    Law of Collective Aegis
    The Law of Holy Division would soon be followed by another law authored by another god - a law that would bind together the beings of creation in a powerful, unbreakable unity. This was the Law of Collective Aegis, an ontological truth that would form the bedrock of civilization, ensuring that progress and stability were upheld by the strength of cooperation and mutual protection.

    The Law of Collective Aegis was not a concept that required validation or proof; it was an axiomatic principle, self-evident and inherent in the very structure of the universe. As it was woven into the cosmos, it became clear that the act of shielding and supporting one another was not merely a choice, but a fundamental force that shaped the destiny of all who embraced it.

    At the core of this law was the understanding that unity and cooperation among beings or entities created a protective barrier, one that amplified their collective strength. It was a force greater than any individual power, a synergy born of shared purpose and mutual care. When individuals or groups came together, their combined efforts did more than just defend against external threats—they forged a collective resilience that elevated their entire civilization.

    The law would become apparent in the collaboration of Hope and Augustus as they worked together to unravel the secrets of Mana, and all the possibilities inherent within. Their cooperation would bolster their efforts. Augustus grew ever more masterful of mana and learned to use it to even accomplish impossible things such as utilizing mana to force the universe to change by forcing the invocation of the law of consistency and breaking what few laws of conservation existed through the act of Holy Division. Hope meanwhile learned to look beyond the monolithic lens of hope and experience the other emotions that the Magician worked to invoke within it, Holy Division having opened up the possibility for the eldritch entity.


    Light Is
    The newborn gods continued to mold and add to reality, one among them grew fascinated by the light that filled the cosmos, whether it be the evertwisting kaleidoscope that filled the universe since near the beginning of the era to the inner light given by the prismatic spark. It sought to add even more to it. It sought to make light more than what it was. It spoke and was heard and the decree was echoed by others until the cosmos was utterly changed.

    Light is motion. The god decreed that with every movement, light would paint a portrait on the world itself, an echo left behind of what came before. These portraits were not static images, but living memories, fading over time as the energy of motion dissipated. The greater the effort, the more profound the impact of the movement, the longer these echoes would linger, leaving a trail of light that told the story of what had transpired.

    Light is emotion. The god saw that light could also be shaped by the feelings of those who experienced it. Great joy could paint vivid, radiant images, while deep sorrow could cast shadows that told tales of regret and loss. Each emotion became a brushstroke, each feeling a color in the grand tapestry of existence. Through light, emotions were given form, allowing the universe itself to resonate with the passions and pains of those who lived within it.

    Light is all. The god understood that light was not limited to brightness alone. Even darkness, that deep roiling blackness that had once been the void, had a light of its own—a light defined not by the absence of illumination, but by its own inherent qualities. This darkness was now a living thing, with a light that was mysterious and profound, a counterpoint to the brilliance that filled the rest of the cosmos.

    With these definitions, light became more than just an illuminator; it became a force that interacted with all aspects of reality, shaping the world through motion, emotion, and even in the spaces where it seemed absent. The universe was now a place where every movement, every feeling, every shadow had a light of its own, contributing to the ever-evolving portrait of existence.


    Spark of Determination
    A god looked to the future, at the powers and forces that were being gestated in the current age and realized that the life to come needed something to push them forward, to allow them to endure any force that was to come. It saw this force in the spark of determination. —a powerful force that would ignite within the souls of all beings, fueling their will to endure, to fight, and to overcome even the most daunting challenges.

    Determination, once unleashed, became the anchor that kept souls bound to the world even after death. It was the fire that burned within the hearts of the living, driving them to face dangers and obstacles that might otherwise seem insurmountable. For those without magic, determination became their greatest weapon, giving them the strength to stand against those who wielded arcane power.

    But the Spark of Determination was not limited to mere survival or resistance. In rare and extraordinary circumstances, it could empower individuals to perform feats that transcended the ordinary—acts that seemed to blur the line between the mundane and the magical. Though these feats were limited, often fleeting, they were moments of pure, unyielding will, where determination itself became a force as potent as any spell.

    As the Spark of Determination spread throughout the universe, it became a cornerstone of existence, a force that ensured that no challenge was too great, no obstacle insurmountable. It was the drive to continue, to push forward, to fight for what mattered, even when all hope seemed lost.

    The spark manifested strongly in the three living things that yet lived and were intelligent enough to understand. The Guardian, Hope, and Augustus were touched by the spark and found their wills bolstered ever further, allowing them to accomplish more than they could before. The Guardian saw its efforts to improve made even greater as Determination and Holy Division complimented each other massively, the Guardian's single minded efforts allowing it to push its form to greater heights, new forms emerging from its flesh. Not merely fleshy appendages but tools and weapons of all sorts.

    Augustus would use Determination as its favored lever for working with mana, utilizing it to force mana into motion instead of the ad hoc mental exercises it used before. And Hope was inspired by it, as she came to a decision on what she wanted. Hope was anchored to this world by Augustus's hope. Thus Hope desired to make more like him, more being able to experience hope.

    Box of Pandora
    A god, with a mind for both the mysteries of existence and the inevitable yearning for eternal life, conceived of a vessel that would hold within it a power both alluring and perilous. Thus, the Box of Pandora was fashioned—an indestructible artifact, small and unassuming in appearance, yet inscribed with the ominous words: "IMMORTALITY AT A COST."

    Inside the box lay a thousand diseases, each one more deadly than the last. These were not mere ailments; they were ever-changing, constantly mutating into forms more insidious and potent. The diseases within the box were a force of nature, a relentless tide of death waiting to be unleashed upon the world. But the box itself was a prison, containing these horrors until the moment when temptation would lead someone to open it.

    The promise of the box was simple: immortality. To any who would dare to open it, the gift of eternal life would be granted. But this gift came with a price. The one who opened the Box of Pandora would become an immortal, yet they would also be cursed, forever an asymptomatic carrier of the thousand diseases contained within. Unseen and unfelt by the bearer, these diseases would spread to those around them, a silent plague that would follow them through eternity.

    The box, however, held an even darker secret. If the one who opened it was already immortal, the box would not simply grant them further life. Instead, it would create an immortal clone of them—a duplicate, identical in every way, but burdened with the same curse. This clone, too, would be an asymptomatic carrier, spreading the diseases to all who crossed its path, ensuring that the price of immortality was always paid.

    The creation of the Box of Pandora was a reminder to all who sought the power of eternal life that there were consequences for such desires. Immortality was not a simple blessing; it was a double-edged sword, offering endless life at the cost of endless suffering for those around them.


    The Gravity Orb
    A god, attuned to the latent potential within the void, reached out to create a new entity—a small, dense ball of gravity. This Gravity Orb, though unassuming in appearance, was imbued with a unique purpose. It was to be a catalyst of change, a force that would slowly, inexorably draw the scattered matter of the universe towards it.

    Released into the cosmos, the Gravity Orb began its slow, drifting journey across the void. At first, its pull was gentle, barely noticeable, but as it traveled, it began to gather mass—dust, particles, and fragments of matter all drawn towards its ever-growing influence. With each new addition, the Gravity Orb's gravity intensified, its pull becoming stronger and more irresistible.

    As the Gravity Orb continued its journey, it became a force of accumulation, slowly but steadily growing larger as it absorbed more and more of the universe's debris. Over time, what had begun as a simple, small orb of gravity transformed into something much greater. The Orb, now heavy with the gathered matter, would one day cease to grow, reaching a point of equilibrium where it had absorbed all it could.

    When that moment came, the Gravity Orb would no longer be a mere ball of force—it would have become a planet, a new celestial body formed from the remnants of the cosmos. This planet, born of gravity's pull, would not remain stationary. It would continue to move slowly through the universe, carrying with it the story of its creation, a silent traveler on an endless journey through the nascent cosmos.


    The Law of Secrets, Truths, and What Lies In Between
    A god, perceiving the need for balance in the pursuit of knowledge, reached out to weave this law into the very fabric of existence. The universe, they decreed, would be a place where every secret had a corresponding truth, and for every truth, there would be a hidden secret. This delicate balance would be maintained by the cosmos itself, ensuring that no truth could be uncovered without effort, and no secret would remain hidden forever.

    Under this law, secrets would remain veiled until the moment of their destined revelation. They would be mysteries waiting to be unraveled, challenges that required curiosity, persistence, and determination to uncover. Truths, on the other hand, would emerge when their time had come—when the conditions were right, and the seeker had journeyed far enough to earn their reward.

    But the law did not stop at the dichotomy of secrets and truths. It also encompassed the in-between—the realm of lies, half-truths, fantasies, and the journey from secret to truth. This in-between was not merely a place of deception or illusion; it was the crucible where potential became reality. It represented the process, the adventure, the struggle to turn a secret into a truth, or a fantasy into a tangible outcome.

    In this universe, everything held a truth that could be understood, but nothing could be grasped without effort. The pursuit of knowledge was a journey, one that required the seeker to engage with the world, to question, to experiment, and to challenge assumptions. This law embedded the scientific method into the very essence of reality, ensuring that knowledge was not just handed out, but earned through exploration and inquiry.

    At the same time, the law acknowledged that every aspect of existence was shrouded in mystery. The universe was a puzzle, a labyrinth of secrets waiting to be uncovered, each step forward revealing new layers of complexity. The divine intervention of the gods could lift the veil, but for mortals and lesser beings, understanding required dedication, patience, and the willingness to venture into the unknown.

    The in-between, the space where lies and half-truths dwelled, became a fertile ground for creativity and transformation. It was here that dreams could take shape, where potential could be realized, and where the impossible could become possible—if one was willing to pursue it far enough.

    The veil of secrecy and mystery placed upon the world found itself most affecting Augustus and Hope as they quickly found that Augustus could no longer easily convey his knowledge to his friend, for knowledge can no longer be freely given, it must be sought after and journeyed and while Augustus could provide hints only the divine can provide direct knowledge. Augustus would intuit this quickly and would resort to turning his performances into educational ones, grand illusions and pranks that would force Hope to look into matters and reach her own conclusion about the universe. In truth Augustus found this method of transferring information much more entertaining than before even as Hope found herself frustrated by the fact that her own lacking intelligence in comparison to her friend meant that her goals became hampered.


    Form the Four Main Elementals
    First among them was the Primordial of Fire, a giant firefly of radiant energy. This creature's body pulsed with heat and light, its wings glowing with the intensity of a thousand suns. The Primordial of Fire was tasked with helping to form the stars, spreading warmth and light throughout the cosmos. It worked closely with the other elementals, particularly the Primordial of Earth, to generate the core of the world, producing magma and lava that would flow beneath the surface. This firefly was also the source of fire mana, imbuing the universe with the energy necessary for both creation and destruction, and ensuring that the world had the heat needed to sustain life.

    Next came the Primordial of Air, a giant dragonfly with wings that shimmered like the sky at dawn. With each beat of its wings, it produced the oxygen and wind currents that flowed across the planet, essential for the breath of life. This dragonfly's presence was felt in every breeze, every gust of wind, as it supported life by providing the necessary gases for respiration and creating a protective layer around the world to shield it from the Sun's relentless heat. The Primordial of Air was also the guardian of air mana, weaving the invisible forces of the atmosphere into the fabric of existence, ensuring that life could thrive in harmony with the wind.

    The Primordial of Water was formed next, a giant lobster with a body that shimmered with the blues and greens of the deepest oceans. From its claws, water flowed endlessly, creating the first clouds with the help of the Primordial of Air and forming the vast oceans that would cradle life. This lobster's influence extended to every drop of water, from the smallest stream to the mightiest ocean, providing the life-giving fluids necessary for growth and survival. The Primordial of Water also governed water mana, ensuring that this essential element was in abundance and that life could flourish in the watery depths it created.

    Finally, there was the Primordial of Earth, a giant beetle with a carapace as strong and enduring as the mountains themselves. This beetle's slow, deliberate movements shaped the land, forming the earth, rock, and minerals needed for the world's foundation. It toiled ceaselessly, its massive legs carving out fertile lands where life could take root and grow. The Primordial of Earth was a protector of the world, its constant, slow movements ensuring that the earth remained stable and secure. It also created earth mana, infusing the soil with the energy needed for growth, stability, and endurance.

    Together, these four elemental would begin the formation of a single world. The Beetle would assemble a world while the firefly would ignite its core. The Dragonfly would form an atmosphere and the Lobster would craft oceans and cycled it through the world. The firefly, greatest of the four, would also gain another duty in igniting the stars. It would fly through the empty cosmos and from its self ignite miniature balls of flame to fill the sky, infinitely less than the Sun, pale facsimiles, but stars all the same.


    Land of Ice and Fire
    One of the gods saw the world newly formed by the four elemental beasts and envisioned a location upon it —a place of extremes, where the forces of fire and ice would meet, shaping a realm unlike any other in existence. This was the Land of Ice and Fire.

    In this land, two mighty volcanoes stood as sentinels, each embodying the dual nature of creation and destruction.

    The first was a dark mountain, towering and foreboding, its peak hidden beneath clouds of ash. This volcano was a force of fire and metal, spewing forth rivers of molten metal that scorched the earth and filled the sky with burning ash. When it erupted, the land trembled with its fury, but from its devastation came great fertility. The ash it spread across the land was rich with minerals, seeding the soil with the nutrients needed for life to flourish. The molten metal cooled to form veins of precious minerals, turning the land into a treasure trove of riches. As the ages passed, the dark mountain grew ever taller, its slopes studded with the remnants of its fiery past, a testament to both the bounty and the destruction it had wrought.

    The second was a bright white mountain, a cryovolcano that loomed in contrast to its dark counterpart. This mountain was a source of cold and life-giving water, its eruptions sending forth great torrents of frost and liquid air. When it erupted, the heat of the land was driven away, replaced by a chilling breath that brought life to the parched earth. Yet, with this gift came fierce storms and an unending winter, a harsh reminder of the mountain's power. The ice and snow that spewed from the white mountain slowly accumulated on its slopes, forming glacial walls that preserved the artifacts of ages long past. These icy slopes became a frozen repository of history, each layer of ice a chronicle of the world's journey through time.

    Together, these two mountains defined the Land of Ice and Fire—a realm of contrasts, where the heat of the earth met the chill of the sky, where destruction and creation existed in a delicate balance. The land between them was a place of both peril and promise, where life thrived in the shadow of cataclysmic forces, and where the treasures of the earth were guarded by the relentless extremes of nature.


    Event

    The First Great Work
    Late into this era would Hope and Augustus would encounter the world created by the Elemental Beasts. They saw the cycle of elements as set up by the Elementals and Augustus knew that it would be perfect for creating life as they desired. They saw the Land of Ice and Fire and was inspired further. This, they declared, would be the place where they would begin their work. A great work to create beings that Augustus could enlighten and entertain and Hope could inspire hope.

    And yet they were not Gods, they could not simply will something as complex as life. Even their first experiments ended up being some slime that served as more avatars for Hope more than anything else. Instead they looked outward and saw the Guardian, in its ever shifting form standing sentinel over the sun and Augustus declared its flesh to be the ideal substrate.

    Hope, ever optimistic, would go to the guardian and ask for a piece of its flesh. The guardian would refuse. Hope would cajole and try to work its magic onto the stalwart being but would find itself rebuffed every time and when Hope tried to force the issue found its avatar utterly destroyed as the Guardian showcased its prowess and might by not only destroying Hope's avatar but lashing out beyond even the Horizon and striking at Hope's true form. The cries of pain and agony from Hope echoes through the universe until the broken horizon was repaired. The entity would itself retreat from the Cosmos for a time as it tried to process the concept of pain and its own mortality. It would not return until the coming of the next Era.

    Augustus in the meanwhile could only shake its head at the recklessness of its companion and while it had some sympathy could not fault the Guardian for its retaliation. No instead Augustus would approach the Guardian itself and give an exchange for its own tutelage for a fragment of its metamorphic flesh. The guardian, after some time would acquiesce. This pleased the Magician as for all that the Guardian did not derive entertainment from Agusustus's performance this meant that the Guardian was now actually paying attention from his performances.

    Augustus would, after imparting all it knew, return to the world carrying with it a fragment of the Guardian's flesh. With its intuitive grasp of the workings of the universe it would work mana to reshape the flesh, rendering it down into a primordial ooze to begin his work. For it missed its friend and the only way to recall Hope from where it fled would be to create a new source of hope to draw its attention away from the pain.

    The World at the end of the Prismatic Era
    As the era ended the gods retreated and prepared themselves for the next labor to come. As they pulled back the great twisting of light began to subside, the great colors fading away into colorless and clear natural mana to reveal the world as it was for the first time, without the constant kaleidoscope veil of the gods obscuring it.

    It is a great sphere, a solar system in size. It is filled with the a grand nebula of gas and clouds, all of it glittering in a kaleidoscope of dust. Small spheres of fire, the false stars of the Firefly flit about, embryonic stars ready to explode outward to their true size when the time finally comes and space is made for them.

    The great monstrous form of the Guardian stands sentinel above the Sun, its great tentacles forming a great cage around the sun as it trillions of eyes look out at all directions, ready for any threat.

    Orbiting the Sun is the embryonic world being formed by the gravity orb and the wold formed by the four elemental beasts. Upon this world is an ocean of primordial ooze, the workshop of Augustus the Amazing as it labored to create a creature capable of feeling hope.

    Now comes the Second Era.

    Theme - Places: Anything pertaining to the creation, modification, or destruction of a location.
     
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    Cosmology
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    • Metaphysics
    The Principle that maintains the coherency of the universe, adjusting the cosmos so that no action can permanently destroy or damage the universe. How it does so is unpreditable and random.
    The Conceptual Self that forms from the thoughts and emotions of sentient life. It protects against attempts on one's identity or existence.
    The inner light of all things, representing all that the thing is and was. By manipulating the light one can express portions or the entirety of a thing's identity and function onto the world. It would be stored in the physical vessel but would eventually spill out and mix into reality, projecting an constant aura that displays a thing's identity and enhances their capabilities. Excess mana eventually mixes in the the environment, becoming colorless and innert
    The Principle of Change and possibility, ensuring that nothing is truly impossible and nothing is immutable.
    Principle that amplifies the accumulative effort of groups working together in ways both passivley and actively, enhancing everything from capability to resiliency, scaling with the more people working together.
    The nature of light in this world.
    All things are made of light. Motion produces light (creating afterimages of motion), and emotion itself is projected outward as light.
    A supernatural drive to endure, fight, and overcome imbued to all soul bearing life. Determination can allow the being to force their bodies to endure and continue beyond their limits, and can allow one to directly contest reality to perform feats beyond what should be possible. Determination can allow a soul to linger when they would normally have dispersed upon death.
    The veil that hides all truths from beings. It states that unless effort is put into discovery and learning one cannot learn anything from the universe. Conversely enough effort is guaranteed to eventually lead to an answer to any question, even when there was none before.
    Spirits that serve as the representation of a collection of living behing, ranging from a small family of creatures to whole ecosystems to small villages to entire planets with each spirit being part of a great spirit.

    Locations of Note
    The center point of existence. The infinite engine of reality that allows the world to exist beyond the homogeneity of Primeval Night.
    The boundary separating reality from Primeval Night. When moving away from the Sun, no matter which direction one goes space will eventually curve to end at this boundary line that marks the edge of the univese.
    World created by the Primordial Elementals and maintained by the elemental Court. It has been reshaped to be an entire planet compose of interlocked and interconnected fortresses. Its surface has been terrarformed into a vast jungle ecosystem made ever more lethal through the interference of the Dryads.
    A region dominated by two mountains, one of fire and one of ice, that constantly keep the world in state of constant heat and cold.
    Vast ocean of primoridal muck created by Augustus the Amazing in order to serve as a resource and testbed for creating life. Formed from the rendered flesh willingly given up by the Guardian. It yet retains its constantly adapting and evolving nature.
    Barren world formed around a ball of gravity tossed into reality by a god long ago. Currently the size of a small moonlet.
    A great beach whose sands are the shattered fragments of souls after their determination finally runs out. Residing here is a Forge God who takes the sand and forges new souls to send out as needed to be reincarnated. Tends to be a mad scientist in its approach.


    Beings of Note
    Creature composed of ever shifting flesh. A constantly evolving living weapon set to guard the Sun from anything that would dare to harm it. Currently trying to develop a means to fight against the gods should it need to.
    Living concept of Hope. Exists beyond the Horizon in the endless night. Wishes to spread the concept of Hope to the universe. Currently sulking in the Night due to pain from an alteration with the Guardian.
    Humanoid creature made of glowing matter. An utter genius in understanding the mechanisms of the world. A bombastic optimistic individual who lives to entertain. Currently working to create intelligent life that it can entertain and can feel hope so as to recall Hope back to reality after it chose to sulk.
    Four massive creatures imbued with raw elemental power and charged with creating stars and worlds. Currently unable to do much but maintain one world due to the limited space available in the cosmos.
    The living concept of Growth, complexity, and mutation. Counterpart to the Winnower, it pushes things to change and develop into ever more complex forms.
    The living concept of Natural Selection and Simplicity. Counterpart to the Gardener, it pushes things to conflict and fight, to prove themselves superior to all others and eliminate all lesser beings.

    Items of Note
    Box that would grand immortality to anyone that opened up while releasing thousands of constantly evolving diseases and curses. If the one who opens it is immortal it instead creates a clone that is the carrier instead.
     
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    • Scheduled vote count started by Mannan on Aug 17, 2024 at 9:59 PM, finished with 357 posts and 26 votes.
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    • Era 2 Acts
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    • Cosmic

    "The Gardener and Winnower exist as principles of ontological dynamics that emerge from mathematical structures, as bodiless and inevitable as the primes. They exist, because they have to exist. They have no antecedent and no constituents, and there is no instrument of causality by which they could be portioned into components and assigned to some schematic of their origin."

    Between them, the Gardener and Winnower play the Flower Game that is the cosmos and the life that will form within it. They are themselves now rules in the Flower Game, sentient cosmic principles.

    The Gardener is the concept of giving, multitude, diversity, cooperation, complexity. In its own words, "To reward those who make space for new complexity. A power that helps those who make strength from heterodoxy, and who steer the game away from gridlock. Something to ensure there's always someone building something new. It'll have to be separate from the rest of the rules, running in parallel, so it can't be compromised. And we'll have to be very careful, so it doesn't disrupt the whole game…"

    The Winnower is the concept of taking, natural selection, competition, simplification, the reduction of entropy, the principle of the Final Shape. The Final Shape is a natural process, and if the cosmos never ends, it may be that the process likewise never ends, and the Final Shape will never be seen.
    The Final Shape, "the dominant pattern that will overrun the others. It is inevitable. One final shape.", in its own words
    As the Winnower says, "Whatever exists because it must exist and because it permits no other way of existence has the absolute claim to existence. That is the only law."

    Both sentient principles of ontological dynamics, Gardener and Winnower, are equally required for the maintenance and smooth functioning of the cosmos.

    There is a gift in it all for both the Gardener and Winnower, a chance to speak to the eventual denizens of the cosmos directly. A pleasant chant. "A nice sit-down for the books."

    In both cases, the Gardener and Winnower hold close their beloved, "that dear and distant expanse of the universe, miraculous in its fullness and its emptiness all at once."

    As the Winnower would say:

    "I am making this offer over and over again, in every tiniest cell and the vastest of civilizations. Let me in. Take what you need. Be at ease."

    "...the whole world is your sweet silicate shellfish."

    "You exist because you have been more suited to it than all the others. Steal what you require from another rather than spend the hours to build it yourself. Break foolish rules—why would you love regulation? It serves you to cross lines, and if others needed rules to protect them, then they were not after all worthy of that existence.

    Caricatures of villainy are out of style, I hear. Yes. I am no cackling mastermind: I am serious when I say this. It was not the trick of standing upright that lifted you from the dust: it was the mastery of fire, the cooking of cold corpse-meat. That is not any unique faction's province, neither good nor evil. It is simply truth.

    This great, beloved cosmos... always finding that same old lovely pattern, despite every candle-flame burning amid the flowers... taking the path of least resistance. In Darkness or in Light, someone is always making my choice.

    Be seeing you."

    When even the determination that outlasts death runs out, and souls disperse, this is where they go, as dust on the wind it sticks to the determination in the sand, and its picked up by a small god, one who recycles, to make more souls than those naturally born, to be gifted to those of great destiny, and to sate their curiosity, what happens if those coloured sands mix?, what if i add more Determination to this mix? and on this shore is the kiln they work, the spark guarded and utilized, always making determination to give to all souls, and pieces not yet enough are used for those souls made for great destiny, in this universe where time yet to exist, sent to the time they are needed.

    Whenever communities reach a certain size a spirit will develop to represent that community, an almost divine being sustained by civilization. Land spirits are both singular beings and part of a whole, always bound to their communites and content in helping them prosper.

    A family can have a spirit that spans entire generations, those spirits can even be influenced by spirits from other families when they combine in matrimony.
    The spirit of a clan is in turn both a singular being and also composed of the spirit of the families within.
    A city spirit is formed by the families, shops, parks, even the streets or forests could have spirits themselves.
    From a street, town, city, state, country, continent. And finally the world, and eventually even an universal spirit.
    Spirits can help their communities by affecting the world with magic, their scale and capability of accessing all that is know by the members of their communities allows them abilities almost unmatched when talking about spirits of a country in the millions and upwards when compared to even a group of mortals working together. Cooperation between small spirits and their mortals give results greater than their sum, allowing them to surpass even what a spirit of great size could do on its own given the limits of their great scale.

    Spirits usually can only affect things on their own scale, usually a nudge in the right direction or small acts of magic is the best the spirit of a family can do. A country may be capable of reshaping the landscape of entire regions over a long period of time given it has the proper knowledge to do so.

    Spirits also become increasingly incapable of being understood by regular mortals the bigger their scale, a spirit of a city being the best a mortal can fantom on their own without help, be it magical or from another spirit to interpret for them. However they can still understand their charges just fine, relegating themselves lesser spirits as messengers to transcribe their meaning to mortals, their manifestations when done are also acts of unfathomable magic, the spirit of a world being a titanic being in of themselves.

    Spirits are usually shapeless only felt in their influence in the world, most deeply in moments of cooperation in their communities. However they can use magic to interact with mortals given enough knowledge present in their shared community.

    There are also wild spirits of nature, beings that form when an ecosystem and all of the relations within it and its inhabitants reach sufficient complexity to form it, from a small glade or cavern to unexplored forests untamed by civilization can form spirits, their lack of knowledge by their members usually results in animalistic behaviour that can only instinctively manifest what natural magic it can accrue in natural processes intrinsic to life and nature, be it from flora or fauna or natural processes. They are no less powerful for thunder and cyclones are still part of nature.

    (Basically genius loci of civilization, spirits will be formed by communities and depend on them to exist, a spirit of a country or continent won't appear unless there is sufficient population to support them, the opposite is also true if a population suddenly disappear a spirit will slowly weaken and maybe disappear if they don't manage to establish a new community to keep their continuity. Also the small spirits can only do small things and big spirits can only do big things, however when working together in cooperation mortals and spirits (big and small) can bridge the gap in scale to work in both smaller and bigger projects surpassing their limits.)

    It is a massive jungle on the world made by the primordial. It is Jungle filled with all matter of beast from a small insect to a big predator, omnivores and herbivores'. The oldest tree in this jungle have Dryads. These as Avatars of These Ancient tree who both protect the Forest and Ecosytem. For as long as their Ancient trees live they are immortal

    ][/B]
    In the absence of Hope, Despair is born. They're not a physical being, better thought of as a Lovecraft entity projecting into this reality, though they can be vaguely described as an inky black ocean by those that see it and don't go insane from despair. They're intelligent and sapient, but their manner of thinking is cosmic in scale, so lesser beings aren't likely to understand it. They're mostly a malevolent force, with their mere presence spreading despair and affecting the world in ways that inspire despair.

    Within all celestial bodies of size enough to host life is Toraloduros which means 'That place where all roads meet' and 'If you should meet God upon the Road, Kill Him', that name which shall be known and understood by all to arrive there, a city made from the corpses of god-spires that never were, cut from primeval dawn by that Sword of Maybe, yet physically larger than the worlds it sits in. No mortal races yet know this place for it must first be learned, that to reach it they must cut a path beneath the ground to open a way and worlds with unopened gates may not be reached from it except through impermanent ways of magic or with a martial prowess beyond the grasp of this age, on some worlds it may be entirely impossible to cut a path, it may lie too deep or in places too hot, they may not have the tools necessary or seek to travel the stars instead.
    The horizon of this circular road of a city of might be god-kings and fated banking guilds are masses of pavilions and pagodas, of domes and spires and temples of styles alien to many peoples.
    Here creator gods and war gods and gods of law and rage may have their speaking houses and their temples, their manses and their cults, where lies at the centre of centres is that speaking hall ziggurat dojo adorned of swords of styles familiar and not and wheels with twelve spokes the latter which may be whole or split, this being that residing place of that god of Sword Law, entrance only requiring that you Cut the way forward with that Sword of Want.

    The first goddess watches as the gods reveal themselves and act in accordance with their nature. She watches as the known universe is created and modified, and as the fabric of reality adjusts itself. And she decides to use all elements of her nature to create a place for herself - a place at the beginning of time. A realm where everything is white, yet refracts instances of color. Here, she resides when she wishes for peace, hope, and inspiration.

    Partially carve some of the stone of the first planet made by the Elementals, grand architectural designs reminiscent of royal palaces are formed from some the minerals in the environment, becoming natural landmarks on this planet, mountains that are partially fortresses, caverns that transition to grand halls, deserts dotted with sandstone towers built by nobody
    The god will personally refer to this world as Castella, maybe even carve a little name on some remote corner

    Seeing as how the it's other gods created places and homes for soon to be dwellers of reality . It's mind wondered to the yet to be dwellers who won't have a place in existence a things born from minds and other circumstances rather than reality. It glanced at the twisting chaos mist and grasped a part of it shaping and vitrifying it to reflect the universe . Although it looks like it's real it's nothing more than a reflection which doesn't exist a great place for them to live. A world of pure fiction.

    (Normal talk I'm creating the equivalent to the feywild or the reverse side of the world from fate. More or less your typical cognitive world where things born from consciousness of the beings from material world go to live as they have no place to stay cause they don't exist. Aka giving these non existent beings or beings unable to exist in the logic of reality a none existent world to live in. Also the reverse applies to all loactions)

    Eirsy saw the world and declared its canvas to be ready. But it was too cramped in her opinion. Newborn stars still did not even have enough space for them to fully shine! So the goddess started working with her brush, changing the newborn place once more - now without fear of breaking it. She took the Horizon and redefined its size, making it infinitely remote from the rest of the universe, but at the same time omnipresent – embracing the universe fully and everywhere from a higher dimension. So Hope still could reach things in the cosmos and her dear friend from outside.

    However, it created the Gap. An odd and (at first) empty place between the Horizon infinitely far away and its previous limited location - the observable universe edge. Eirsy did not see it as a problem, but as an opportunity to sketch and put some unfinished touches on the new space and time. She took her brush and the laws already existing in the universe, ones which given it potential, and which created borders between the things, and which governed unfolding mysteries... These started to work alongside her. The Gap was an 'undefined' part of the Cosmos in a sense, appearing to be empty with only light traveling through the infinite vastness and darkness.

    Nevertheless, if someone with the ability to observe tried to travel the Gap, it would turn into more of a cosmos "underneath their feet" as they travel and things suddenly and insensibly became defined for the distance as long, as light and the ability of the thing to reason allows them potentially see details in the abyss they are looking into. There would always be more matter and places to explore, but it would not exist until someone travels there or looks hard enough to pierce the void. For the road appears under the steps of the one who walks. As a dark forest near the road.

    Although the goddess could not stop herself from being a little artistic, she put interesting rules into the properties of the Gap. Rare matter appearing in the Gap, as it turned into defined cosmos, had a chance of having interesting properties or being composed into unique and somewhat ordered structures. Because she was one of arts, crafts, and laws, after all. Although, structures never were more complicated then some ordered pieces of matter and never as big, as the first planet. Even if things has unique and exotic properties sometimes.

    The goddess began to add random touches of color and sketches with her brushes and pencils right into the rules of the Gap for it to better generate rare things and places. Each stroke created free possible deposits of matter: gas and dust nebulae, lonely asteroids and their entire rings, random shapes of matter floating in the void of the universe, waiting to be found and used to create other stuff.

    Still, she did not proclaim creation for only identical and mundane types of matter to appear. Yes, most of the colors were those of simple rocks, gases, liquids, and powders... but a few of them, perhaps one tenth, were painted in more detail and given special treatment. Mostly, it was just some random attribute given to a simple material. Like an unique asteroid made of gold, which was attributed with things like: holy, malleable, and indestructible, to the metal it was made of. Or a nebula made of ice and water vapor with attributes of: stony and empathetic. A difficult supertask only a god could achieve - create trends and examples for the Gap to define its content, when someone travel it by self or a powerful eye.

    It also meant, all of the things born in the Gap (when it turned into cosmos) could potentially be created through some artificial or (more rarely) natural process. Because it's all the same paint of matter and energy for the goddess and now part of reality. It would be boring to conceal the possibility of such wonderful things appearing again in the works of others or on thier own. Although, it doesn't mean creating wonders of this art should be without cost and challenge, because Truths and Mysteries prevail in this world as a law. Otherwise, these materials would not be so unique and rare. On the other hand, the pieces of probability made by the goddess are not only possible combinations of things. Just some she liked the most - it is possible to create other things in a similar vein, if one puts enough knowledge, skill, and thought into a project inspired by her works and paints she 'left' on the Canvas of reality.

    (Summary: Cosmos is now potentially infinite - it can procedurally generate more space and material in finite numbers at a time, if one with ability to perceive travels it or gaze hard enough. Everything unexplored and undefined in the universe is the Infinite Gap waiting to be defined and interacted with, dead wilderness of the space which could be filled with sudden wonders or dangers. It's generated contents are simple and dead, but can have interesting properties or be composed in beautiful finite patterns. Horizon is no longer lies withing finite distance in three dimentions of the universe. One should be able travel infinite distance in three dimensions or step into specific higher dimension to actually interact with it. It's easier to do from outside, because from outer persepctive this border is pretty pronounced on the background of chaos.)


    Divine
    In the thick Primordial Ooze stands a large pristine island of ivory white. It is entirely flat and featureless- a place of stillness and order that is perfect in its make. The island thrums with colorless mana that exhibits no character or purpose, a still and untapped power that is in constant threat of being corrupted. Those who inhabit the island will slowly change it's character and make it embody their purpose. A group of fiery creature would turn the island into flaming hellscape, a group ice creatures would turn it into a winter wonderland. The island bends to their soul easily and readily into whatever is at the soul's core

    Shroud the planet of Gravity in a thick, diffracting atmosphere. Create a land, nay, a world as a whole of perpetual Twilight, where the Light cast and bent from the First Sun would hold little dominion, where Laws were more yielding and beings of Concept and Contradiction could bring themselves to Be.

    It would be a world Kin to the Horizon it had forged, a world Inbetween, where Laws bent and Light scattered.

    One of the gods upon seeing the suns protector striking hope would feel bad for the being who's only crime was being slightly annoying. Would set upon making something that helps not only hope but any others who end up in the Primeval Night. The god would gather the colors of plants, healing, and hope and compress them into a seed that would grow into a great flower field that heals those in it .The god would then grant the seed the ability to grow even in the Primeval Night, and send it off on is journey into the night to hopefully provide a place of healing and comfort to the denizens of the Primeval Night.

    Trawling a net through the cosmos, a being late to the beginnings of creation gathers up colors with an interest in preservation. Collecting motes of various colors and placing them past the horizon contained within intricately carved crystal pearls so as to protect them from the aspect of the chaos mists.

    Within the carvings was a complex technology slowly refining the colors themselves into packets, more comets, that would occasionally fire free back into the cosmos itself resuffusing creation with a hint of what came before. In time these comets from the palette would impart hue over generations where concepts connected to various colors would gain strength before another hue comet tinted the cosmos in turn.

    Upon the world created by the Elementals, a deep pit is made in a remote location, and in that pit is a door of glowing red tinged gold. Behind that door lies a massive well filled with raw, churning pool of pure life essence and primal energies that can be harnessed within the chamber to fashion life forms from scratch, such as plants and animals, though doing so requires years of trial and error as the user would need to learn how to build a living organism. Alternatively, one can take a piece of flesh and imbue it with the vast energies of the Crucible to create a creature using the flesh as a base.

    One could even use it as sort of traditional forge, imbuing weapons and armor with a vistage of primordial life energy into it.

    The four greater elementals after finishing there work are given a gift by there creators the ability to reproduce but on a much much lesser scale unlike there progenitors these elementals can be killed tho they can not die from age each has a core inside there body that if destroyed causes the death of that lesser elemental the cores are made of water fire earth or wind depending on the elemental and the cores can fuse together like the elementals to form new cores

    The lesser fire elementals, linked to there progenitor these creatures while unable to create fire as powerful as there progenitor can form simple flames and can use fire mana naturally but struggle with other elements they can do,vine with the other three primary lessser elementals to create new elementals such as magma steam mud and more depending on what they fuse with in a symbotic form to gain another mana attunment. There personality's are generally linked with there progenitor, very passionate very energetic, the embodiment of a fiery personality if angered which is easy there anger is extreme but quick and only targeted at the one who angered but also marginal if it's something light then yelling is all they do but extreme they will burn the one who angered them them they look similar to there progenitor generally being a type of fire fly

    The lesser water elementals as explain before can fuse with other elementals have a natural attachment to there own element but unless fused with another struggle to control elements outside there own, there personality is calm and collected and slow to anger but if angered they shall drown those that harm them, like the sea they can be calm and quiet but can be a raging sea storm if needed, they also look like there progenitor generally being a type crustacean

    The lesser air element like all others can fuse and struggle to use any form of mana except for air mana unless fused, these elementals are air headed, love pulling light hearted pranks but unwilling to go to far, naturally carefree and extremely hard to anger one must do something horrible to them to anger them, the one who did will regret it as the air elemental makes a tornado to sweep away those that hurt them. They are generally a type of dragon fly

    The lesser earth elementals have all the ability's of the others and are locked to earth mana unless they fuse, these elementals are stubborn but loyal refusing to back down or break a deal once made, they are stalwart and slow to adapt but are willing to change shape if convinced by another elemental, they are not easy to anger nearly impossible to anger unless those they care about are harmed they care not for themselves but for the more fragile beings willing to protect and nurture them when needed. They are generally types of beetles

    These are the four main lesser elementals but these elementals can change shape if exposed with each other becoming magma lighting storm mud metal dust and more nearly infinite possibilities when fused together tho these lesser elementals can not propagate, they can only come from there progenitors

    Located somewhere between the Reverse World and the Mundane World, the city of Soria Moria shines with an ethereal light, its sprawling metropolis crafted from gems of every kind and cut. As the iridescent lights of the Mundane meet the infinite possibilities of the Reverse, the city's crystalline spires and facades refract and reflect them endlessly, the resulting kaleidoscope of colors giving birth to marvels that defy the imagination.
    In the very center of Soria Moria, a colossal throne towers over the landscape, dwarfing even the kilometers-high skyscrapers surrounding it. This is the true Soria Moria, a shimmering castle in which the rulers of this realm will reside.
    For now, this city will be empty, but in the future, it will be home to endless thousands.

    The Vein Weaver is a terrifying figure, standing roughly 10 feet tall, with a skeletal and sinewy body that appears to be in constant motion. Its body is a patchwork of organic materials - flesh, bone, sinew, and chitin - that move and writhe as if alive, of its own accord. The skin, if it can be called that, is a pale, translucent membrane through which the pulsing veins and twitching muscles can be seen. Its limbs are elongated and multi-jointed, ending in long, bony fingers with needle-like claws that it uses to precisely weave flesh.

    The Vein Weaver's head is a terrifying mix of insectoid and humanoid features. It has several eyes of varying sizes scattered across its skull, each glowing with a cold, calculating light. His mouth is a vertical slit lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth, but he rarely speaks, instead communicating through telepathic whispers that invade the minds of those around him.

    A mass of tendrils and thin, muscular appendages grows from his back, each capable of independently manipulating organic matter. These tendrils are covered in tiny, retractable spines that can inject various substances—tissue-breaking enzymes, DNA-altering mutagens, or growth-boosting stimulants—into his creations.

    The Veinweaver has immortality and unrivaled mastery of biomancy, allowing him to manipulate organic matter at the cellular and genetic level. He can weave flesh, bone, and other biological materials to create new creatures or alter existing ones. His creations are often grotesque, amalgams of multiple species with enhanced features or entirely new abilities.

    Driven by an insatiable need to create, the Vein Weaver cannot remain idle for long. He constantly seeks out new raw materials - animals, plants, or even the bodies of the dead - to fuel his creations. This compulsion is tied to his ultimate goal: the creation of a perfect race of believers who will worship his Maker and help further spread his influence.

    The Vein Weaver's most powerful ability is "Weaving," a ritual process in which he uses his tendrils to infuse raw materials with his essence, transforming them into new life forms. Weaving is not simply a physical process; it also involves implanting thoughts, memories, and a deep-seated belief in the Maker into the minds of newly created beings.

    The Vein Weaver exudes a mutagenic aura that can subtly alter the biology of beings around him. Over time, these changes become more pronounced, with beings in his immediate vicinity developing new physical traits or mental abilities. This aura also acts as a form of control, making creatures more susceptible to the Weaver's influence.

    Grand

    The Corban are short bipedal canine creatures that live in the lands surrounding the Black Mountain and the White Mountain. They come in two varieties: Black Corban and White Corban; depending on the temperature when they were conceived. They possess long tough claws that easily dig into rock and ice, which they use to dig cave dens or treasures.

    In high temperature, Black Corban are born. They have obsidian-black scales with metal highlights. They possess the ability to expel heat from their bodies which they use to regulate their body temperature and keep their insides ice cold. Their insides can grow cold enough to produce cryogenic fluid which they spray to deter enemies, cool their surroundings, or raise their internal body temperature. On hot days, their scales can glow red hot. When their scales start melting, they are sure to die.

    In low temperatures, White Corban are born. They possess a thick insulating fur coat and a fluffy mane. They possess the ability to steal heat from their surroundings which they use to regulate their body temperature and keept their core temperature toasty. Their insides can grow hot enough to soften metals in their mouth. They can expel a ray of heat from their mouth as a means of deterring others, heating up their surroundings, or lower their body temperature. On cold days, some may not be able to gather enough heat and begin freezing over and die.

    Seeing the World near empty of life and thought, a deity set forth to solve the issue. They gathered a number of components, Stone both white as snow and black as void, metals of all varieties, a small cloud of Chaos Mist, Raw Prismatic Light and Mana, and one secret component: A mote from Augustus' Soul, copied without diminishing the original nor eliciting either notice or pain.

    They kneaded the materials together with Divine power, producing a set of 12 monoliths of varied shape. At a glance, they were composed of swirls of contrasting stone. Upon closer inspection, the white stone shimmered in every color, and the black glimmered with points of unified white light. These swirls are separated by thin bands of metal in every kind, secrets encoded in their slowly shifting patterns.

    The pillars were cast to the two planets, four of them missing and instead being scattered to the great clouds that surrounded the great Sun. Four arrived upon each planet, crashing to the ground with great force, carving great craters into otherwise barren and indistinct portions of the world.

    Within these craters the Pillars produced an incredible effect: Within the Pillar's influence, life flourished and grew, but in particular, development of Intelligence, Wisdom, and the Soul are greatly bolstered, and the World's secrets more easily uncovered, turned to Truth.

    throughout the universe, create lands with large white obelisks covered runes and art work. The lands are found near sources of fresh water such as lakes or rivers. These lands are meant to lay the foundations of civilization for future races by warding away feral beasts, providing fertile ground for agriculture, and teaching the basics of civilization which are etched upon obelisks. When these civilizations have left their infancy and can thrive without these blessings, the blessings shall disappear which is signed by the towers turning to dust. This is event is foretold upon the runes and art of the obelisk; like with the rests of the lessons is easily understood.
     
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    • New Vote Numbers
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    • While Update is worked on here is the reworked Action Tier List:

    Minor Act (1 Vote): An act on the personal scale, affecting a small group of individuals at any one time. Generally something of very minor and small impact. Create a handful of a mundane species, grant someone street level powers, burn down a house.

    Lesser Act (3 Votes): An act that can affect tens of thousands of people, something on the scale of entire cities. Introduce a mundane species into the world or a handful of slightly supernatural creatures, elevate a being to the power of mythical demigod, attack with all the force of a nuclear bomb.

    Greater Act (5 Votes): An act that can affect millions, touching on the scale of nations and continents. Introduce a new supernatural species, create an apocalyptic monster, crack a continent open. This is the level to create an intelligent being.

    Grand Act (8 Votes): An act that can affect billions, reaching the scale of an entire planet. Shape entire worlds, create moons and simple ecosystems.

    Divine Act (11 Votes): Things that will affect an entire solar system. Create worlds, stars, and planetary systems. Create godlike servants. This is the level needed to create intelligent species.

    Stellar Act (14 Votes): Things on the level of working on the scale of galaxies. Practically anything finite can be accomplished here so long as it is already plausable and possible. Create supermassive structures, entire civilizations. Perform a lesser act on the scale of billions of worlds.

    Cosmic Act (17 Votes): There is no limit on what this level of act can do used to change things on the level of the entire universe, alter the fundamental workings of the universe.. Create magic systems, alter the metaphysics of reality or the actual physics for that matter. Go wild.

    I have also lowered the difficulty in creating intelligent life by 1 rank. Though making entire intelligent species is still the same level of act.

    Also the Theme for the 3rd Era has been decided. It is Life.
     
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    • Era 2: Places
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    • Turn 2: The Urban Era

    "Architecture is a sacred art for its truths are grounded in the workings of the gods, in the grand edifices they crafted and left behind. Consider it well for at the highest level of truth even whole worlds can be made,"

    -Introductory lecture from Master Architect to apprentice

    The Gardener and Winnower

    The gods look at the foundation that they have established in the universe and add yet more to it. They reach out past the veils of logic and grasp onto two principles, elevating them beyond base concepts into implicit forces of the universe itself and breathe life, intellect, and awareness into them. They are the Gardener and the Winnower.

    The Gardener is the principle of giving, of multitude and diversity, of cooperation and complexity. It exists to reward those who make space for new ideas, who embrace heterodoxy, and who guide the universe away from stagnation. The Gardener's influence ensures that the cosmos is always growing, always building something new, a force that promotes the flourishing of life and the creation of endless possibilities.

    The Winnower stands in contrast, embodying the principles of taking, of natural selection, competition, and simplification. The Winnower is the force that prunes away the excess, refining the universe towards the Final Shape—a perfect form that, while perhaps never fully realized, represents the inevitable outcome of natural processes.

    The Gardener and the Winnower are not in opposition, but in balance, each complementing the other. The Gardener fosters the growth of complexity, diversity, and cooperation, ensuring that new forms and ideas continually emerge. The Winnower selects and simplifies, ensuring that only the strongest, most suitable forms endure, preventing the cosmos from descending into chaos.

    At their birth one in the universe takes note of it. Augustus, ever attuned to the ebb and flow of the universe recognizes the ascension of two more concept and the intricacies of their power, readily shifting its will to seize their power to do their work. And ever the entertainer does so in a way as to entrance the nascent ascendant forces. With the Gardener's light the Primordial Pool explodes as complex chemical patterns spontaneously form and then begin lumping together into countless cancerous masses. The Winnower's darkness contributes some by heightening the differences between these cancerous masses, allowing for the rapid consumption of lesser masses. Then the pattern is repeated again and again, as Augustus pushes forward with his work.


    The Far Shore

    Beyond the reach of time and space, in a corner of the cosmos where even the most enduring determination fades, there lies a place known as the Far Shore. It is here that souls, once vibrant with life and purpose, come when their final reserves of determination are spent. They drift as dust on the wind, their essence scattered and diffuse, awaiting the next chapter in their journey.

    The Far Shore is not a place of endings, but of beginnings—a realm where the remnants of souls are not lost, but gathered and repurposed. Here, a small god, humble in stature but vast in curiosity, tends to the shore. This god is a recycler, a caretaker of the cosmic cycle, who sees potential in what others might discard.

    On the Far Shore, the dust of dispersed souls clings to the sand, drawn by the lingering determination that remains. The small god collects these grains, each one a fragment of a life once lived, and brings them to a kiln—a sacred forge where new souls are crafted. The kiln is a place of endless creativity, where the spark of determination is guarded and used to ignite the formation of new souls.

    But this god is no mere craftsman; they are an experimenter, a creator driven by curiosity. As they work, they wonder: What happens if the colored sands of different souls are mixed? What new forms might arise from such combinations? And what if more determination is added to the mix, infusing these new souls with greater strength and purpose?

    In this realm the small god works tirelessly, crafting souls not just for the present, but for the future. These souls, imbued with enhanced determination and unique combinations of essence, are destined for great things. They are sent forth from the Far Shore to the moments where they are most needed, to fulfill destinies that have yet to unfold.

    The Far Shore is a place of quiet power, a hidden cornerstone of the cosmos where the cycle of life, death, and rebirth is carefully maintained. It is here that the small god, with their kiln and their spark, ensures that the universe remains vibrant, always renewing itself, always prepared for the challenges to come.

    The Corban

    In the shadow of the Black Mountain and the White Mountain, where the forces of fire and ice clash and merge, a new form of life emerges—creatures uniquely adapted to the extremes of their environment. These are the Corban, short bipedal canine beings, whose existence is intricately tied to the land they inhabit and the temperatures that shape their birth.

    The Corban come in two distinct varieties, each a reflection of the conditions under which they were conceived.

    The Black Corban are born in the searing heat of the lands surrounding the Black Mountain. Their bodies are covered in obsidian-black scales, accented with metallic highlights that shimmer in the intense light. These scales are more than just protective armor—they are a vital part of the Black Corban's survival. The creatures possess the remarkable ability to expel heat from their bodies, a mechanism that allows them to regulate their internal temperature and keep their insides ice cold despite the fiery world around them. In moments of extreme heat, their bodies can produce cryogenic fluid, which they spray to cool their surroundings, deter threats, or maintain their core temperature. On the hottest of days, their scales may glow red hot, a warning that their bodies are reaching their limits. If their scales begin to melt, it is a sign that their time is near—death is certain if they cannot cool themselves in time.

    The White Corban are born in the frigid cold of the lands surrounding the White Mountain. Their bodies are enveloped in a thick insulating fur coat, topped with a fluffy mane that shields them from the biting cold. Unlike their black-scaled kin, the White Corban thrive by stealing heat from their surroundings, drawing warmth into their bodies to maintain a toasty core temperature. Their internal heat can grow intense enough to soften metals in their mouth, a trait they use to craft tools or defend their dens. When threatened, they can expel a ray of concentrated heat from their mouths, a fiery breath that can warm their surroundings or fend off potential dangers. However, the cold can be just as perilous as the heat—on the coldest days, when the White Corban cannot gather enough warmth, they risk freezing solid, their bodies succumbing to the relentless chill.

    The Corban live in the lands between the two great mountains, digging their cave dens deep into rock and ice. Their long, tough claws allow them to burrow and mine, seeking shelter or uncovering sustenance hidden within the earth, for in this barren world bereft of life they sustain themselves by feeding on the materials hidden within the rock and trace chemicals impregnated within the ice.


    Land Spirits

    As the first elements of true life begin to be released into the world, the gods looked and willed for the appearance of a new force, a new phenomena to help guide and assist this new life and the civilizations that would inevitable form from them, the Land Spirits. These spirits, born from the collective essence of communities, became the guardians and embodiments of the places and peoples they represented. They were not merely spirits of the land but also of the cultures, traditions, and bonds that formed within it.

    Whenever a community reached a certain size, whether it be a small family, a bustling city, or an entire nation, a spirit would form to embody the essence of that community. These spirits were both singular beings and part of a greater whole, deeply connected to the lives of those who sustained them. They were the genius loci of civilization, divine entities nurtured by the unity and cooperation of their people.

    Family Spirits were the first to emerge, representing the bonds that spanned generations. These spirits could influence the fortunes of their families, guiding them with subtle nudges or small acts of magic. When families joined together in matrimony, their spirits would intertwine, creating a new, shared essence that represented the union of two lineages.

    As communities grew, so too did the spirits that represented them. A Clan Spirit was both a singular being and a composite of the family spirits within it. A City Spirit was born from the collective essence of families, shops, parks, and even the streets themselves, each contributing to the city's unique identity. These spirits became increasingly powerful, capable of influencing larger and more complex aspects of the world. A Country Spirit might reshape entire landscapes over time, while a World Spirit—should the entire planet ever unite as one—would be a titanic entity, embodying the very essence of the world itself.

    The larger the spirit, the more incomprehensible it became to ordinary mortals. While a family spirit might be easily understood and communicated with, a city spirit could only be fathomed with the aid of magic or the guidance of lesser spirits. The spirits of countries or continents became beings of such vast scale that their thoughts and intentions were beyond the understanding of most mortals. These grand spirits often employed lesser spirits as messengers, translating their will into forms that could be comprehended by those they served.

    Despite their immense power, large spirits were limited to affecting things on their own scale. A family spirit could guide its members in small ways, while a country spirit might take centuries to reshape a region. However, when spirits and mortals worked together in cooperation, their combined efforts could surpass the limitations of scale. Small spirits could achieve great things through the collaboration of their communities, while even the mightiest spirits could focus their power on smaller tasks with the aid of their charges.

    In the untamed wilds, Nature Spirits formed from the life and complexity of ecosystems. These spirits, born from the intricate web of relationships between plants, animals, and the environment, acted on instinct and natural magic. While they lacked the knowledge and refinement of civilization's spirits, they were powerful in their own right, manifesting the raw, untamed energy of the natural world.

    The existence of a spirit was intrinsically tied to the life of the community or ecosystem that sustained it. Should a population dwindle or disappear, the spirit would weaken and might eventually fade away unless it could find a new community to support its existence. This fragile yet resilient connection between spirits and their communities created a dynamic interplay between the growth of life and the health of the land.

    The first such spirit is born from the Corban, it is a frail weak thing expected for such a newly born race, still in its infancy and living in a land bereft of any other life. Yet its influence is felt as the beastial Corban is slowly herded by the spirit, setting them to avoid many a great disaster from the tumultuous landmarks of their home as they sought out to survive and prosper.


    The Island of Entropy

    In the midst of the thick, roiling Primordial Ooze, where the intermingling essence of many a primordial being interacted in explosive congiruations, there arose a unique formation—a large, pristine island of ivory white. This island, known as the Island of Entropy, is a place of stillness and order, a paradoxical sanctuary of purity within the ever-changing currents of the ooze. The island is entirely flat and featureless, its surface smooth and untouched, a blank canvas waiting to be shaped by the forces that would come to inhabit it.

    The Island of Entropy thrums with a strange, colorless mana—a power without character or purpose, lying dormant yet potent. This mana is pure potential, an untapped force that holds within it the capacity for both creation and destruction. It is a delicate balance, for the island is in constant threat of being corrupted by the very forces that would seek to harness its power.

    The true nature of the Island of Entropy lies in its malleability. Those who set foot upon its surface will find that the island begins to change, slowly and subtly at first, then more rapidly as it adapts to the essence of its inhabitants. The island bends easily and readily to the core of their souls, reflecting their deepest nature and desires.

    Should a group of fiery creatures take residence upon the island, its pristine surface would crack and blacken, giving way to rivers of molten lava and towering flames. The colorless mana would transform into a searing force of destruction, reshaping the island into a flaming hellscape that mirrors the inner fire of its new masters.

    If, instead, creatures of ice were to claim the island, its surface would harden and chill, the air growing crisp and cold. The mana would take on the properties of ice and frost, spreading across the island to create a winter wonderland, a frozen paradise that embodies the stillness and purity of its inhabitants' souls.

    The Island of Entropy is a place of infinite potential, its character and form ever-changing, dependent entirely on those who inhabit it. It is both a reflection and a catalyst, turning the desires and essence of its inhabitants into reality, for better or for worse. It is a place where the true nature of beings is laid bare, where the inner self shapes the outer world with ease.

    In the churning roil of the Primordial Ooze it is perhaps inevitable that the island would quickly be overrun by the proto creatures and proceed to change as according to their nature, an ever evolving melange of life that is in constant competition with each other. The ocean of protoplasmic flesh would quickly be sucked into the island whose interior had become a world utterly conducive to this simulation of evolution as the environment rapidly cycled between constant extremes even as it provided an endless amount of resources to allow the ooze to continuously grow.

    Augustus himself would find it futile in trying to interfere, the magic of the island simply too vasts form him to tame, especially as it was empowered further by the Gardener and Winnower. Whatever would emerge from this land would be a thing of wonder and horror both, especially given the origin of the flesh was the nightmare creature that was the Guardian.


    The Twilight World

    In the vast expanse of the cosmos, where the forces of creation give rise to stars, elements, and the very fabric of existence, a planet born of gravity slowly takes shape. This planet, formed as the Gravity Orb gathers mass, is destined for more than mere solidity; it is to become a realm unlike any other, a place where the boundaries of reality blur and bend.

    The gods turn their attention to this nascent world and decide to shroud it in a thick, diffracting atmosphere. This atmosphere is unlike any other, a veil that scatters and bends the light from the First Sun, casting the entire planet into a state of perpetual Twilight. Here, the dominion of the First Sun's light is weak, its rays diffused into a soft, omnipresent glow that neither brightens nor darkens, but instead creates a world of in-betweens.

    In this Twilight world, the laws of reality are more yielding, more flexible than in other parts of the cosmos. The rigid structures and defined boundaries that govern other worlds hold less sway here. , the planet of Gravity becomes a place where the ordinary laws of existence bend, allowing the impossible to become possible, for ideas and concepts to take shape and walk among the Twilight lands.

    In this land of perpetual Twilight, there are no sharp edges, no clear distinctions between day and night, truth and illusion. It is a world of grey tones, of half-light and half-truths, where the in-between is the only certainty. The inhabitants of this world, whether natural or conceptual, live in a state of constant flux, their forms and identities shifting with the changing light.

    Externally the world seems to balloon as a great grey mass swirls around it and surrounding dust and gas is absorbed in ever prodigious amounts even as they are destabilized to once more take on the form of ever shifting chaos mist. The world, with a slowly growing crystalline core now resembled a gas giant, such was the extreme amount of power was poured into it.


    The Jungle of Beasts and Dryads

    As the Twilit World formed and ballooned the world of the primordials also experienced a radical shift and change as the gods reached forward and painted the entirety of planet, covering every patch of ground and ocean into a great chocking jungle, a place teeming with life in its most primal and diverse forms. This is the Jungle of Beasts and Dryads, a massive expanse of dense foliage, towering trees, and a vibrant ecosystem that pulses with the energy of countless creatures.

    The jungle is home to a myriad of beasts, ranging from the tiniest insects to the largest predators. Within its depths, omnivores, herbivores, and carnivores alike roam, each playing a role in the intricate web of life that sustains the forest. The jungle is a place of both beauty and danger, where the cycles of life and death are played out in endless variation.

    Presiding over the entire jungle realm are countless trees that have been granted a spirit in defiance of the law of souls, done in such a way as to allow them to persist despite the lack of faculties for it. These are the Dryads. They are lesser gods of nature, each one, able to command and shape the surrounding life around them to a myriad of effects, thei land around them bathed in the green glow of their mana.

    They are all green mothers, that tend to their lands with the touch of a caring mother, wishing nothing more than to see it flourish and grow. But they are also red in tooth and claw, warring with all that was not their own, seeking to subjugate all others to their will.

    It is this nature that draws the Gardener and Winnower to them and it is this touch that would color the civilization that the Dryads would develop, newly created as they were in this world. From the Gardener they were taught cooperation, to reach out to their neighbors and to combine their powers together to allow for ever greater heights, the beginnings of civilization. But from the Winnower were they taught the many ways to refine their killer instinct, to predate on other sisterhoods and take their land and resources for themselves.

    And like the brutal jungle of their birth the Dryads readily break fight each other, childlike innocence readily feeding into horrific violence. Nature is weaponized as the will of the Dryads seep into domains, nascent nature spirits taken and made into subordinate soldiers. Even as Dryads banded together into sisterhoods, war was endemic. Made even more brutal as many a dead dryad lingered only to be met with bindings as the Winnower turned what it gleaned of magic to the ends of dominating these deceased beings. Necromancy in its crudest forms is pioneered in this first conflict.


    Despair

    In the absence of Hope, where the light of optimism fades and the warmth of possibility dims, another force emerges from the depths of a god's mind—Despair. Born of void and shadow, Despair is not a physical being but a presence, a projection of something far more ancient and malevolent, reaching into reality from the furthest corners of existence.

    Despair is a cosmic entity, better described by those who have glimpsed its presence and survived as an inky black ocean, vast and suffocating. The waves of this ocean lap at the edges of the mind, pulling thoughts and feelings into a deep, crushing abyss. It is a force that exists beyond physicality, a Lovecraftian presence that looms like a storm cloud over the world, influencing all who come near it.

    Despair is intelligent and sapient, though its way of thinking is on a cosmic scale, making it impossible for lesser beings to truly comprehend its thoughts and intentions. To encounter Despair is to be overwhelmed by a sense of insignificance, as if standing before the vastness of eternity and knowing that nothing awaits but darkness. Where Hope inspires and uplifts, Despair drags down all who come near, filling them with feelings of futility and hopelessness.

    Despair's presence is insidious, spreading slowly yet inevitably through the world. The closer one comes to it, the heavier their heart becomes, as if a weight presses down on their very soul. Despair feeds on fear, sorrow, and uncertainty, growing stronger as the beings it touches fall deeper into despair. It is a malevolent force, and though it does not act with cruelty for cruelty's sake, its presence inevitably brings suffering, leaving a trail of broken wills and shattered dreams in its wake.

    Yet, like its counterpart Hope, Despair does not reveal its full nature to those it touches. Many who encounter it cannot even comprehend what they face; they feel only a deep and abiding emptiness, an absence of light that consumes all joy. Those who survive are often left with only vague recollections of an endless ocean of blackness, its presence so all-encompassing that to name it would be to lose oneself in madness.

    It gravitates directly into the horrific maelstrom of violence that is the Dryad war, adding its own horrific malice to the war, snuffing out what points of hope and light would emerge allowing the Winnower to overcome the efforts of the Gardener yet paradoxically it also hastened the end of the war. As Dryad killed dryad, tearing their spirit from them to add to their bound legions, their despair began to weigh onto them, sapping what enjoyment they derived from victory until at last, when the previously millions strong first generation was reduced to a paltry hundred they stopped fighting. This peace was not one wrought from understanding but from sheer hopelessness. A hopelessness that crushed any will to fight any longer, trapping all in a dark malaise.

    Toraloduros

    Hidden within the depths of all celestial bodies large enough to host life lies a city of unimaginable scale and significance—Toraloduros, a name that carries profound meaning: "That place where all roads meet" and "If you should meet God upon the Road, Kill Him." This city is not of mortal design, nor is it easily discovered. It is a place that exists beyond the reach of common beings, forged from the remnants of god-spires that never were, structures cut from the primeval dawn by the Sword of Maybe.

    Toraloduros defies the physical constraints of the worlds it inhabits. Though it lies within the heart of each celestial body, it is larger than the worlds themselves, a paradox of space and reality. Its existence is a secret, unknown to mortal races, for it must be sought and earned. To reach Toraloduros, one must first learn the ancient truth that only by cutting a path beneath the ground can the way be opened. This path is not easily found, and on some worlds, it may be impossible to uncover. The city lies too deep, in places too hot, or behind barriers that no tools of this age can breach.

    For those who do manage to uncover a path, the city offers a sight unlike any other. The horizon of this circular road of a city is a vast expanse of pavilions and pagodas, of domes and spires, and temples built in styles alien to many peoples. These structures, grand and imposing, serve as the meeting places of gods—creator gods, war gods, gods of law, and gods of rage. Here, they have their speaking houses, their mansions, and their cults, where the affairs of divinity are discussed and the fate of worlds may be decided.

    At the center of Toraloduros lies the heart of the city, the Speaking Hall Ziggurat Dojo, a structure adorned with swords of styles both familiar and unknown, and wheels with twelve spokes, some whole and some split. This is the residing place of the God of Sword Law, a deity whose power and authority are unparalleled in the realms of combat and justice. To enter this sacred hall, one must Cut the way forward with the Sword of Want, a blade that symbolizes the burning desire to move forward, to conquer, and to achieve greatness.

    Toraloduros is a place of mystery and power, a city that stands as a testament to the strength and will of those who seek it. It is a city of might-be god-kings and fated banking guilds, where the affairs of the cosmos are played out on a stage hidden from the eyes of mortals. It is a city that demands not only discovery but also mastery, for only those with the skill and determination to Cut their way forward can hope to enter its gates.

    Yet it remains empty, awaiting for arrivals to come cut their way through.


    Land Called Opalescence

    A goddess observes as the known universe is created and modified, as the fabric of reality bends and adjusts to the will of the divine. Amidst this grand tapestry of creation, the goddess finds herself yearning for a place of her own—a sanctuary that reflects the essence of her being. She decides to use all elements of her nature to craft such a realm, a place that exists at the very beginning of time, untouched by the chaos and complexity of the universe beyond.

    With a thought, she brings her realm into existence. It is a place where everything is pure and white, a canvas of endless tranquility. Yet, within this whiteness lies the potential for infinite variety. The whiteness is not empty; it refracts instances of color, each hue representing a different aspect of her nature, her emotions, her thoughts. These colors dance and shift across the landscape, creating patterns of light and inspiration, yet never overwhelming the peaceful, pristine white that defines the realm.

    This is her sanctuary, a place where she can retreat when she wishes for peace or when she desires the quiet inspiration that only solitude can bring. The realm is not bound by the laws of time or space. It exists outside the flow of the cosmos, a place where the first goddess can withdraw and reflect, where she can be alone with her thoughts.

    And it is this contradictory place that forces the great canvast to convulse and react, for the threat for a realm that exists only at time's beginning presents the greatest breach of its existence for the law of time must be ironclad, especially the acts of the Primordials. Thus like Hope before, this realm is released from the edge of the Horizon, to be lost within the Primeval Night, rejected by reality and barred by the grand Horizon that is its border, forever stuck in the time before the Sun's rise. A place of contemplation yes, but also a grand prison for the divine for they are without power without the Sun to give them form. Yet the imprint of its power remains, the miracles of the gods are not to be denied, a link, no matter how tenuous, remains to this grand realm.


    Healing Flower Field in the Night

    Among the gods, one observes the unfolding events with a heavy heart. The protector of the Sun, in its duty, has struck Hope, leaving a wound on the very essence of this benevolent force. While the protector's actions were driven by a sense of duty, the god cannot help but feel compassion for Hope, whose only fault was being slightly annoying in its boundless optimism.

    Moved by this empathy, the god decides to create something that would not only aid Hope but also offer solace to any others who might find themselves lost or wounded in the vast darkness of the Primeval Night. The god gathers the most vibrant colors—the green of plants, the soft glow of healing, and the bright hues of hope itself. These colors are compressed into a single seed, small yet brimming with potential.

    This seed, when planted, will grow into a great field of flowers, a place of healing and comfort. The flowers, each a delicate blend of the colors infused into the seed, will radiate an aura of peace, mending wounds and soothing spirits. The field will become a sanctuary in the darkness, a place where those who wander in the Primeval Night can find respite from their struggles.

    As the seed is cast out among the mists it takes root, nascent roots quickly eat the surrounding chaos mists to grow the golden flowers to full maturity. And it is here that the power of the flower reveals itself as the gentle glow they emanate brings order to the swirling chaos of the Night, for each flower was a miniscule rendition of the Sun and though tiny it replicated its work enough to form a safe haven for any who wander the night, their light stretching out through the infinite darkness.


    Soon enough the Primeval Night becomes dotted with golden speks, the countless seeds of the Sunflower, provided aide and succor to any that go towards them. And it is this scenery that rouses the secluded form of hope, their gentle light brining back to the forefront of the being's mind what it was. Roused from its torpor the embodied concept looks back towards the grand Horizon and at the eternally burning wellspring of optimism that was Augustus. And, to its horror, saw the great miasma of despair that clung to the world that it had left its friend on.


    The Palette

    Late to the beginnings of creation, a being arrives with a keen interest in preserving the essence of what has come before. This being, curious and meticulous, trawls a net through the cosmos, gathering motes of various colors—fragments of light, energy, and concepts that had once played a role in shaping the universe. These motes, though small and scattered, hold within them the echoes of creation's earliest moments.

    With great care, the being collects these motes and places them past the Horizon, beyond the reach of chaos, where the laws of the cosmos blur and bend. Here, the motes are contained within intricately carved crystal pearls, each one a masterpiece of craftsmanship. The carvings on these pearls are more than just decorative; they house a complex technology, a refined system designed to protect and preserve the colors from the chaotic mists that threaten to erode them.

    Within these pearls, the colors are slowly refined, distilled into their purest forms. Over time, the pearls begin to produce packets of color—comets of hue that occasionally fire free from their crystalline confines and return to the cosmos. These comets, once released, resuffuse creation with a hint of what came before, a reminder of the primordial colors that once shaped the universe.

    As these hue comets travel through the cosmos, they impart their colors over generations, subtly influencing the fabric of reality. Concepts and beings connected to these various colors gain strength and significance, their essence enriched by the returning hues. The comets ensure that no color is ever truly lost, that the vibrancy of the cosmos is maintained, and that the echoes of the past continue to play a role in the present.

    In time, another hue comet will be released, tinting the cosmos with a different shade, and with it, new concepts will rise in power while others wane. The cycle of color and concept continues, each comet adding to the ever-evolving palette of the universe, ensuring that the vibrancy and diversity of creation remain eternal.

    The first wave of comets would overcome the black light of the void and paint the cosmos in a kaleidoscopic tapestry so reminiscent of the first age when the gods warped space and time to extract all colors from the light. With each color certain phenomena and concepts became prevalent even to the point of spontaneously appearing when circumstances dictated their impossibility. Indeed the only dark regions remained in the immediate surroundings around the Sun where the Guardian readily cut down anything that tried to enter its immediate territory.


    Pillars of Enlightenment

    The world, still vast and barren, lacks the vibrancy of life and the spark of thought. Seeing this emptiness, a deity steps forward with a solution. With a vision to fill the world with life and intellect, they begin to gather the necessary components for their grand creation.

    First, the deity collects stones—white as snow and black as the void—each representing the duality of existence. Next, they gather metals of all varieties, rich with the potential for creation and destruction. From the edges of the cosmos, they summon a small cloud of Chaos Mist, a reminder of the universe's raw potential. To these, they add Raw Prismatic Light and Mana, the essence of color and magic that has been woven into the fabric of reality. Finally, the deity takes a secret component—a mote from Augustus' Soul, copied with such precision that neither the original nor Augustus himself is diminished or even aware of the act.

    With these materials, the deity begins their work, kneading them together with Divine power. The result is a set of twelve monoliths, each one unique in shape and form. At first glance, these monoliths appear to be composed of swirling contrasts of white and black stone. Upon closer inspection, the white stone shimmers with every color, a spectrum hidden within its purity, while the black stone glimmers with points of unified white light, like stars in the night sky. These swirling patterns are separated by thin bands of metal, each one encoding secrets within its slowly shifting patterns—secrets that only the wise and the observant might uncover.

    Once completed, the deity casts the twelve monoliths into the cosmos. Four of them are scattered to the great clouds that surround the Sun, where they remain hidden, waiting for the right time to reveal their purpose. The remaining eight monoliths are sent to two of the planets, with four crashing down upon each. As they strike the ground with immense force, they carve out great craters in otherwise barren and indistinct portions of the world.

    Within these craters, an incredible transformation begins. The monoliths emit a powerful influence, causing life to flourish and grow in ways that had never been seen before. But more than just fostering life, the monoliths have a profound effect on the development of Intelligence, Wisdom, and the Soul. Beings within the monoliths' influence find their minds sharpened, their understanding deepened, and their souls enriched. The world's secrets, once hidden, are more easily uncovered and turned to truth, as if the monoliths themselves are guiding the hands and minds of those who dwell near them.

    The pillars that make their way to the planet the elementals wrought would quickly be found by surviving Dryads who bask in their presence and in their state of enhanced wisdom they finally notice their state of despair and the foolish origins of their war. They see their legions of enslaved souls and in a state of unity the remaining Dryads finally declare peace, heedless of the whispers of the Winnower and Despair.

    And it is in this hopeful period that Hope finally reappears in this world, driving away Despair. The golden sun looks upon the fledgeling race, so deprived of hope that she immediatley takes them into her embrace, imparting upon them the hope for a better tomorrow. Thus the formal conclusion of the Dryad's war finally dawns.


    Crucible of Life

    Upon the world shaped by the Elementals a new and powerful construct is brought into being. In a remote and hidden location, far from the eyes of curious dryads, a deep pit is formed. At the bottom of this pit stands a door, its surface glowing with a red-tinged gold light, radiating an aura of subtle power. The Curcible of Life.

    This door is more than just an entrance; it is a gateway to a great cavern, the center of which is an utterly massive well filled with raw, churning pools of pure life essence and primal energies. Here, one can attempt to fashion life forms from scratch, drawing upon the limitless potential of the Crucible. Plants, animals, and perhaps even more complex organisms can be created, but such endeavors require years, if not centuries, of trial and error. The user must learn the delicate art of life-building, understanding how to weave together the strands of essence and energy to create a living, breathing organism.

    For those who lack the patience or skill to create life from nothing, there is another option. By taking a piece of flesh—be it from a living creature or a remnant of something long dead—one can imbue it with the vast energies of the Crucible, transforming it into a new creature. The flesh acts as a template, a base upon which the raw power of the Crucible can work its magic, bringing forth a being infused with primal life energy.

    But the Crucible's potential does not end with the creation of life. It can also serve as a forge, imbuing weapons, armor, and other artifacts with a vestige of primordial life energy. The Crucible can breathe life into cold steel, granting weapons a pulse of vitality that makes them stronger, sharper, and more resilient. Armor forged in the Crucible can take on a life of its own, offering its wearer protection that goes beyond mere physical defense.

    The Crucible of Life is a tool of immense power, an ever replenishing wellspring of creation that holds within it the potential to reshape the world if harnessed properly. For now it remains dormant, unused in the far reaches of the world, awaiting the day it is put to some use.


    Castella


    The landscape, already rich with natural beauty, begins to take on new forms as the god partially carves the stone, shaping the environment into something both natural and extraordinary. By the will of the god hands the world changes.

    Mountains, once simple and imposing, now rise as majestic fortresses, their peaks adorned with spires and battlements that blend seamlessly with the rock. Caverns, deep and mysterious, transform into grand halls, their walls etched with intricate designs and their ceilings vaulted like the most opulent of cathedrals. In the vast deserts of the planet, sandstone towers rise from the shifting sands, their origins unknown and their purpose a mystery. Each tower is unique, a blend of natural formation and divine architecture, a landmark that draws the eye and stirs the imagination.

    Even the lands below are not left alone as great subterranean bunkers are spread liberally across the crust, many of them breaching down into the mantle. INdeed it is a sign of architectural mastery and miraculous design that the world does not collapse from everything but the molten core of the world becomes, the construction done in such a way that even tectonic movements and weather patterns are taken into account.

    The world itself becomes a grand work of architecture, with ever facet turned into fortresses of every make and form, all of them of awe-inspiring beauty and complexity. The chief architect of this, satisfied with the work, decides to name this world Castella, a name that carries the essence of castles and fortresses, of grand halls and hidden caverns. In a remote corner of the planet, the god carves the name into the stone, a subtle signature left for those who might one day discover it.

    The inhabitants of the world react to this sudden shift in many ways. The Elemental beasts do not care much, though the Beetle does make note of the techniques exhibited in it and instinctively incorporates the knowledge behind it into itself, More than likely any world constructed with said elementals help would have fotresses naturally arise from the stone.

    The Dryads take the sudden change in their home as a divine sign approving of their newfound peace, and their new focus on rebuilding, the scars of the great war having been paved over with the sudden shift in their environment. Indeed the Jungle itself has been thoroughly tamed, becoming incorporated as wild gardens or plantations of palatial estates, estates that the Dryads readily take as their own domicile.


    Reverse World

    As the gods continue to shape the universe, creating places and homes for the soon-to-be dwellers of reality, one god's thoughts drift toward those beings who will have no place in the material world. These are the entities born not from physical matter but from the minds, dreams, and abstract concepts of living beings. They are creatures of thought and imagination, existing beyond the logic of reality, and as such, they lack a place to call home in the physical universe.

    This god, recognizing the need for a sanctuary for these beings, turns its gaze toward the twisting Chaos Mist—a raw, untamed force that holds within it the potential for anything and everything. With a careful hand, the god grasps a portion of the Chaos Mist and begins to shape it, molding it into something new and extraordinary. Through divine power, the mist is vitrified, solidified into a form that mirrors the universe itself. However, this new creation is not truly real; it is a reflection, an echo of the material world, existing as a world of pure fiction, halfway between the existence of reality and the nonexistence of the void.

    In this realm, those who cannot exist in the logic of reality can find a home. They thrive in this world of pure fiction, free from the constraints of the material universe. The reverse side is a sanctuary, a refuge for all those, the loose logic of this realm readily accommodating it as the Law of Consistency is tuned to creating a world to account for them, using the reflection of the material world as a baseline reflection.

    Almost immediately upon its inception it is inhabited by the abstract entities in the form of Despair, Complexity, and Simplicity, the Law of Consistency seeing a way to readily resolve an issue that had been plaguing it for some time. They pay little heed to this, their main focus on reality, especially Despair who now has to contend with Hope's interference among the still living Dryads.


    Cradle of Beginnings

    A god, intent on laying the foundations for future civilizations, sets to work crafting lands that will nurture and guide the fledgling races that will one day rise. These lands are found near sources of fresh water—lakes, rivers, and streams—where life naturally flourishes and where the conditions for growth are most favorable.

    At the heart of each of these lands stands a large white obelisk, towering above the landscape. These obelisks are not mere stone; they are covered in intricate runes and artwork, each one a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship. The runes and images etched upon the obelisks are more than just decorations—they contain the teachings and wisdom needed to establish the basics of civilization. They offer guidance on agriculture, governance, and social harmony, laying the groundwork for the development of stable and prosperous societies.

    The obelisks provide powerful blessings to the lands they stand upon. They ward away feral beasts, ensuring that the early inhabitants of these lands are safe from the dangers of the wild. They enrich the soil, making it fertile and bountiful, perfect for the cultivation of crops and the sustenance of communities. These blessings are the foundation upon which the future civilizations will be built, offering protection, abundance, and knowledge in their early stages of growth.

    However, these blessings are not meant to last forever. The obelisks are designed to support civilizations only in their infancy. As these societies grow and evolve, gaining the strength and knowledge to thrive on their own, the blessings of the obelisks will gradually fade. This transition is not sudden or harsh, but a natural part of the growth process, allowing the civilizations to stand on their own and continue their development without divine aid.

    When the time comes for the blessings to end, the obelisks themselves will turn to dust, leaving behind only the memory of their presence. This event is foretold within the runes and artwork of the obelisks, clearly communicated to those who live under their protection. The civilizations will understand that this change is not a curse, but a sign of their maturity, a moment of graduation from divine oversight to self-sufficiency.

    These lands would be readily found as they, by their natures gravitated to such ideal growing lands. They would take note of the Pillars and would be inspired by the divine inspiration, aided by the activity of the Gardener. They learn on how to better tame the nature that they ruled over, how to govern themselves, and how to establish rules and principles that would prevent their warring, to allow them to rise above the activity of beasts.

    Joined with the 4 pillars, four nascent nation begin to take form.

    First is the Red Forest, the strongest and the ones that took to the warring incited by the Winnower the best. Masters of necromancy, they establish a society honing their martial prowess and practicing the Winnower's teachings. Their lands is a cauldron of constant warfare as they pit their natures together to force the evolution of ever more powerful beasts. Each Dryad is a general leading an empire, united in a rudimentary military hierarchy. They cared not for the next generation, seeking natural selection and the winnower to ensure only the strongest Dyrads survive.

    Second is the Blue Forest, embracing the Gardener and what it represented while rejecting the Winnowers whispers. They are the largest faction, but also made of the weakest members. They were the early sisterhoods that did not wish to fight in the beginning but banded together when the other parties did not let them. They now fortify their lands, intertwining their efforts and preparing for the next war to come even as internally they reject all forms of violent warfare, content to study the world.

    Third is the Yellow Forest. Less a united civilization and more a collection of Dryads that wished to be alone, working together they retreated from all territories to congregate in their chosen cradles, their mastery of determination and magic to twist the blessings of the cradle to repel all that was not them. In their lands they focus on their own individual projects, following their passions and only occasionally working together. It is the Land Spirit that emerged from their collective that passes for governance among them, made up for the fact that specific rituals grants a tithe of mana and determination for the Land Spirit to do its work.

    Fourth and last is the Black Forest. Technically a civilization of one, it is composed of one living Dryad who bore the name Kore, the single greatest master of Necromancy at this point in time. Under her is a legion of enslaved souls a million strong, all toiling to bring about her will. She secludes herself, long having lost any trust in her fellow kin and knowing many would not forgive her for so many slain. At the heart of her territory is a forest that she tends to, born of her tree, they are her children, her only hope of having sisters once more.


    Lesser Elementals

    With the work of the four greater elementals complete, their creators decide to bestow upon them a gift—a gift that allows the elementals to propagate, though on a much lesser scale than their progenitors. These new beings, the Lesser Elementals, inherit the essence of their creators but are distinct in their own right.

    Unlike the greater elementals, these lesser beings are not immortal. While they do not age, they can be killed if their core—made of water, fire, earth, or wind, depending on the elemental—is destroyed. These cores are the source of their life and power, and should the core be shattered, the lesser elemental's existence ends. However, these cores also hold a unique potential: they can fuse with the cores of other elementals, combining their essences to form new, hybrid elementals with abilities and attributes from both parent forms.

    The Lesser Fire Elementals are linked to their progenitor, the Primordial Firefly. Though they cannot create flames as powerful as their progenitor, they can form simple fires and naturally wield fire mana. However, they struggle to control other elements unless fused with other elementals. When combined with other primary lesser elementals, they can create new forms such as magma, steam, or molten metal, gaining additional mana attunements in the process. Their personalities mirror the fire they control: passionate, energetic, and quick to anger. When provoked, their fury is intense but short-lived, directed solely at the source of their anger. They resemble their progenitor, generally taking the form of fiery, glowing fireflies.

    The Lesser Water Elementals share a deep connection to their element, resembling their progenitor, the Primordial Lobster. These beings are calm, collected, and slow to anger, embodying the tranquility of still waters. However, when roused, they can unleash the fury of a raging sea storm, overwhelming those who provoke them. Like the other lesser elementals, they struggle with controlling elements outside their own, unless fused with another elemental. In appearance, they resemble various types of crustaceans, reflecting their watery origins.

    The Lesser Air Elementals are the offspring of the Primordial Dragonfly, and like their progenitor, they are carefree and light-hearted. These beings love to play pranks and are difficult to anger. However, when they do become enraged, their retaliation is swift and powerful, manifesting in destructive tornadoes that sweep away their foes. They are naturally attuned to air mana and struggle with other elements unless they fuse with others. In form, they resemble dragonflies, flitting through the air with ease and grace.

    The Lesser Earth Elementals are the stalwart and loyal children of the Primordial Beetle. These beings are as stubborn as the earth they command, slow to adapt, but unwavering in their commitments. They are nearly impossible to anger, caring little for personal slights, but they are fiercely protective of those they care for. When provoked, they will use their power to shield and nurture the more fragile beings around them. These elementals, naturally attuned to earth mana, struggle with other elements unless fused with others. They resemble various types of beetles, embodying the strength and resilience of the earth.

    The Primordial Elementals produce their progeny in massive waves, the infinite wellspring of elemental mana that they embody now extruding outwards in forming the first elemental courts. They quickly work to assist their progenitors, supplemental the inborn, if instinctive, mastery and knowledge of the the elemental beasts with their own intelligence and independence.

    The elementals of fire work to direct and guide the star seeds formed by the Firefly, the waters and their waves are governed by the elementals of the Lobster, the winds and atmosphere fall under the stewardship of the Dragonfly's progeny, and the Beetle's progeny take control of the Earth.

    These are beings that know their duties, their own independent race but one born knowing the purpose of their progenitors and thus their own and strive together to understand and advance upon it. Truths of the world are uncovered as the elementals work together and new masteries are formed. Flame elementals become able leaders, understanding that fire alone could do nothing, working to direct their other brethren as well as serving as the warriors to fight off against threats such as the occasional incursion by a rogue Dryad war band. Water elementals saw the jungle born creatures and learned all they could from them, to the point of understanding the truths of life and biology and how to shape them. Earth elementals studied the workings of the Gods in how they shaped Castella, they understood the truths of architecture, geology, and mega engineering such that already theoretical designs for entire planets were discussed. And the elementals of air mastered magic of all types, having seen Augustus and is educational shows, learning to manipulate mana to fill all manner of utility roles.

    Soria Moria

    Between the realms of the Reverse World and the Mundane World, where the boundaries of reality blur and the impossible becomes possible, a city of unparalleled beauty and wonder begins to take shape. This is Soria Moria, a metropolis unlike any other, shining with an ethereal light that beckons to those who might one day call it home.

    It is the great bridge that links the Reverse World and Material World, existing in an in-between state. Soria Moria is crafted entirely from gems of every kind and cut, each facet reflecting the brilliance of the worlds it bridges. The city's crystalline spires rise high into the sky, their surfaces refracting the iridescent lights of the Mundane World and the infinite possibilities of the Reverse World. As these lights meet and intertwine, they create a kaleidoscope of colors that dance across the city's facades, giving birth to marvels that defy the imagination. The very air seems alive with the potential of both worlds, a fusion of reality and dream that permeates every corner of the city.

    At the heart of Soria Moria, towering above even the kilometers-high skyscrapers, stands a colossal throne. This throne, vast and imposing, is the true center of the city, housed within a shimmering castle that embodies the essence of Soria Moria itself. The throne is a symbol of power and authority, a seat for the rulers who will one day guide this realm and shape its destiny. Indeed to claim the throne is to wield the divine authority invested within the city, to shape it just as the gods did when they first willed the crystal city into being. And given the nature of the city as bridge between worlds that potential is vast indeed.

    The city would be empty for a time, but eventually it would be discovered. Kore the Black, explored Necromancy in all its facets, advancing it further than any of her kindred. And key to the art is the truth of the soul including the new afterlife crafted in the Reverse World. In her investigations into this realm Kore would stumble upon the city and entranced by its beauty immediately moved within it, even to the point of moving her great Tree, planting it on the crystal throne in the center of the city, and in doing so claiming it.

    Kore ascends, her nature fed by the crystal throne and her power spreads to her thralls. The Dryads souls, bound through chains of mana and determination and the WInnower's cosmic law, are uplifted. Where before they were wisps used as a means to generate and control mana past Kore's personal means now they manifest fully, the dual nature of the world allowing them to manifest. And with Kore's will, gems would form around their souls, anchoring their bodies to a material substance and essentially restoring them to a semblance of life. In one fell swoop Kore has cemented the Black Forest as the greatest of the four Dryad nations even if the crystalline beings could hardly be considered Dryads at this point.


    Cosmic Brushstrokes: Creating the Gap

    As Eirsy looked upon the world, she declared its canvas ready, but in her eyes, it was still too cramped. Newborn stars had yet to fully shine, their brilliance constrained by the limited space. With a determined stroke of her divine brush, Eirsy began to reshape the cosmos, unafraid of breaking what had already been created. She took hold of the Horizon, that boundary between the known and the unknown, and redefined it, making it infinitely remote from the rest of the universe. Yet, in a paradoxical twist, the Horizon became omnipresent—embracing the universe fully from a higher dimension, allowing Hope to still reach the cosmos and her dear friend from outside.

    In expanding the Horizon, Eirsy inadvertently created the Gap—an odd and initially empty space that now existed between the infinitely far Horizon and its previous, more limited location at the edge of the observable universe. But to Eirsy, the Gap was not a problem; it was an opportunity, a new space and time to sketch and refine with her artistic touch.

    Eirsy took up her brush, using the existing laws of the universe—those that gave it potential, created borders, and governed mysteries—as her tools. Together, they began to define the Gap. At first, it appeared empty, with only light traveling through its infinite vastness and darkness. However, for those with the ability to observe, the Gap would transform as they traveled through it. The cosmos would gradually take shape beneath their feet, and the vast emptiness would yield matter, stars, and worlds, defined by the observer's perception and the distance light could travel.

    As Eirsy worked, she couldn't resist adding her own artistic flair to the Gap. She introduced interesting rules and properties to the space, allowing rare and unique matter to appear as it became defined. These materials, though simple and inert, could possess extraordinary properties or form beautiful, ordered patterns. The goddess, a being of arts, crafts, and laws, ensured that these structures, while never as complex or large as a planet, could still surprise and delight those who discovered them.

    With each stroke of her brush and pencil, Eirsy added random touches of color to the rules of the Gap, generating free deposits of matter—gas and dust nebulae, lonely asteroids, entire rings of celestial bodies—all floating in the void, waiting to be found and utilized. Most of the colors she used were those of simple rocks, gases, liquids, and powders, but a few were given special attention, painted in more detail and imbued with unique attributes. These rare materials might include an indestructible holy gold asteroid or a stony, empathetic ice nebula—each one a masterpiece of the goddess's art.

    Eirsy ensured that these materials, once born in the Gap, could potentially be recreated through artificial or natural processes, for to her, all matter and energy were just different strokes of the same cosmic paint. However, recreating these wonders would not be without cost or challenge, as the laws of Truths and Mysteries governed the world. These materials would remain rare and unique, but the goddess left open the possibility for others to create similar marvels if they possessed the necessary knowledge, skill, and inspiration.

    The first to observe this sudden change would be the Firefly, who regularly flew across the breadth of the cosmos in order to seed stars. As it neared the former Horizon it instead saw the gap and driven by instinct it flew into it and saw the creation of a far vaster world. Understanding intuitively what had happened the Firefly was quick to move onward,drawing the many nascent stars it had created and flinging them into the new regions where they would explode outward, forming full stars.

    Giddy with anticipation the other Primordial Elements would also come, drawn by the greatest of them. Seeing the new space and the new stars they would go forward, following their directive in creating worlds. They would be trailed by their progeny, who also hoped to contribute to the process of world creation. They would leave behind only enough Elementals to continue to manage the world, taking on the duties that their Progenitors had done in maintaining the world's order.

    This would be the beginning of their cycle. The four would go out in the the Gap, manifesting new worlds. The FIrefly would create a new star and the Beetle would create entire worlds by both generating earth from its flesh and drawing the exotic material that usually appeared in this excursions into its construction. The Lobster and Firefly would terraform the world and the elementals would take charge of its maintenance, the Earth Elementals making sure to shape many a fortress within its boundaries in homage to what they learned in Castella. And then the Elementals would move on, ready to repeat the cycle, leaving a trail of habitable worlds behind them.

    Some elementals, the ambitious and most independent among them would even choose to go their own way. They would take one of the star seeds created by the Firefly and have themselves be flung into the Gap to help expand the universe, where they would create their own worlds. These worlds would be much less refined than the working of the Primordials, but would regularly incorporate new and interesting designs devised by the elementals such as gas giants, or asteroid belts, and the like.


    The Vein Weaver

    Near the end of the era it would appear in the dark corners of Castella, far from any civilization, a new being emerges—The Vein Weaver. Standing at a towering 10 feet, the Vein Weaver is a figure of both horror and awe, its skeletal and sinewy body in constant motion as if the very flesh it is composed of is alive and aware.

    The Vein Weaver's body is a grotesque patchwork of organic materials—flesh, bone, sinew, and chitin—all moving and writhing as if each has a life of its own. Its skin, if it can be called that, is a pale, translucent membrane, revealing the pulsing veins and twitching muscles beneath. The creature's elongated, multi-jointed limbs end in long, bony fingers with needle-like claws, perfect for the precise and intricate work of weaving flesh.

    Its head is a terrifying blend of insectoid and humanoid features, with several eyes of varying sizes scattered across its skull, each glowing with a cold, calculating light. A vertical slit lined with razor-sharp teeth serves as its mouth, though the Vein Weaver rarely speaks. Instead, it communicates through telepathic whispers that invade the minds of those around it, filling them with dread and unease.

    Growing from its back is a mass of tendrils and thin, muscular appendages, each capable of independently manipulating organic matter. These tendrils are covered in tiny, retractable spines that can inject a variety of substances—tissue-breaking enzymes, DNA-altering mutagens, or growth-boosting stimulants—into its creations, allowing the Vein Weaver to shape and mold living beings to its will.

    The Vein Weaver is immortal, a being with unrivaled mastery of biomancy. It can manipulate organic matter at the cellular and genetic level, weaving flesh, bone, and other biological materials to create new creatures or alter existing ones. Its creations are often grotesque amalgamations of multiple species, enhanced with new features or entirely new abilities. Driven by an insatiable need to create, the Vein Weaver cannot remain idle for long. It constantly seeks out new raw materials—animals, plants, or even the bodies of the dead—to fuel its relentless drive to create.

    The Vein Weaver's ultimate goal is the creation of a perfect race of believers, beings who will worship its Maker and help spread the Weaver's influence throughout the cosmos. To achieve this, the Vein Weaver employs its most powerful ability: Weaving. This ritual process involves the Vein Weaver using its tendrils to infuse raw materials with its essence, transforming them into new life forms. Weaving is not simply a physical process; it also involves implanting thoughts, memories, and a deep-seated belief in the Maker into the minds of the newly created beings.

    The Vein Weaver exudes a mutagenic aura, a subtle yet pervasive influence that can alter the biology of beings in its immediate vicinity. Over time, these changes become more pronounced, with beings developing new physical traits or mental abilities, all while becoming more susceptible to the Vein Weaver's control. The aura acts as a form of influence, ensuring that those who spend too much time in the Vein Weaver's presence are shaped, both physically and mentally, into tools for its dark designs.

    It would wander through the fortress grounds, attracted to the tamed jungle plantations that dotted the world and would immediately begin its gruesome work, twisting the life of the surroundings to create its first servitors, already planning on how to fulfill its mission. It looks to the trees of the empty estate and sees within it, gestating, the nascent dryad, a being that would take a century to be born, but could become so much more under the Vein Weaver's hands.


    Era 1 End

    Thus ends the second era in a cosmos more filled compared to the era before it, but one that is also expanding rapidly through the efforts of the elementals.

    Now begins the third era, the Era of species involving the creations, modification, and destruction of entire new races.

    24 Hour Moratorium
     
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    • On Species
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    • I have decided on a scaling on how to handle sapient races.

    One of my issues in the past world was that since a certain level of act was needed to create sapience, making them super powered individuals was also going to to be an issue.

    So I decided make a scale for creating life.

    An act for creating a creature depends on their relative power. So most mundane still falls within either Minor or Lesser with more powerful creatures requiring higher power requiring greater levels.
    Making the creature a species that can reproduce adds 1 rank.
    Making the creature sapient adds 2 ranks in difficulty.

    So making a sapient species adds 3 ranks in difficulty depending on the potential power of the species.

    As always things cap out on cosmic.

    So making something roughly equal to a mundane human will require a Grand Act
     
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