A Divine Epilogue

A gathering of the divine forces in the universe chattered amiably to themselves and snacked collectively on a most delicious cheese they had not partaken of in a millennium. Everyone agreed that this batch was perfect and wasn’t it thoughtful that Dennis had sent one of his boys around to notify everyone of the arrival. Melissa, god of messengers, glared balefully at Dennis but did not call him out for interference. The gathering observed the game that two of their number had been playing, eager to see the start of round two.

Dennis, the god of menace, laughed uproariously at Jeph, the god of baking. The divine duo had resumed their game in another ill-defined space without what humans would consider walls. Denis pointed and laughed at the cobbled-together pieces of Gomm’s being.

“If that’s all you have, I’ll finish it now.”

Dennis negligently waved a hand at the figures on the table, and the figure of Beckle picked up Choch’s model and ate it. Beckle stomped heavily, and an old, intricately built furnace rose from the surface beside him.

Heat radiated ominously from it as Beckle picked Gomm’s carefully glued-together form up and chucked it into the furnace, slamming its door behind him. Dennis laughed merrily until the furnace started to shake and rattle.

Cracks started to form throughout the machine as Beckle panicked. He withdrew some tongs from the satchel at his side. Burning his hand on the furnace door, he opened it and reached inside with the tongs to retrieve an altered form. The cracks had been lined with gold, and the eyes of the small figure blazed with a light that created a corona of light screaming vengeance. Gomm’s outline wavered as his form shrunk and grew, pulsing with barely contained power.

As the figure was withdrawn, the shattering of the furnace ceased advancing, and small limbs of various creatures could be seen squirming to get out through the cracks. Gomm’s figure strode to the damaged furnace and plucked creatures out of the cracks. Some he ate, drawing in their power for himself, and others he threw at Beckle’s still panicking form. The freed monsters started crawling over Beckle, taking tiny bites from the man as he ran screaming from Gomm and the furnace.

Gomm smiled viciously and started striding away from the center.

The god of menace wailed like a cosmic child denied a sweet of entropy. As the central figure supporting Dennis’s play ran around in circles screaming, the god of baking was munching on a cookie filled with starlight. He grimly smiled at his opponent.

“One of our other worlds has a technique they use to repair broken pottery with various precious metals to give it strength and beauty. I think it worked well this time.”

“That wasn’t baking!”

Jeph looked over at the group of gods observing on the edges of their space.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Pete? Can we get a ruling? Pottery is your bailiwick.”

Pete, the god of pottery, mused thoughtfully. He seesawed his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture.

“Not gonna lie, Jeph, I don’t like Dennis either, but that’s sophistry. You’re gonna have to balance the scales to convince me to let that bullshit through. Nobody eats my cups or bowls except that one weirdo, and she got help to kick the habit. It was a good play, but I gotta give him some pushback to fight with.”

Jeph sighed and nodded to Pete before looking to Dennis, who had stopped flailing on the ground in a godly tantrum and was now bouncing eagerly on his toes at the table’s edge. He made a grand sweeping gesture, and groups of figures grew from the table to surround Gomm on three sides.

A steel bear trap sprang from beneath Gomm, snapping closed on one of his legs and pinning him in place. Despite his struggles and gnawing at his limb to get free, he did not escape before he was surrounded.

One group sent a member to tackle Beckle, who was still running around screaming as he was slowly devoured. Beckle was subdued and dragged back to the furnace. Some of that group started to clear the creatures off of him, and once he was calmer but bleeding, they all started working on the furnace.

The second group shunned the work being done and shouted into the distance as they seized Gomm and dragged his struggling form back to shove him into a partially repaired furnace, steel trap still dangling from his leg.

A dust cloud rose from the ground in the distance, but no source could be seen. The first two groups started arguing over the furnace when it started shaking again.

The third Group was just two figures. A red-haired scribe seated at a table and an ill-defined robed individual grasping the sword of Red Adder County. It raised a hand to Dennis in an obscene gesture. The god of Menace laughed at the impudence.

Jeph frowned,

“Here now, those weren’t part of your first-round kit. You can’t just add in new players from nothing.”

Dennis gleefully snickered,

“They were accounted for. Melissa, I need backup here for a ruling.”

The red-haired god of messengers grimaced at Dennis and turned a glare on Jeph,

“I told you Jeph. I needed Winnie back in the game. Not just for my purposes. These groups were mentioned in the early game. You didn’t pay close enough attention. This is a legal play, especially after that nonsense with Purpolis.”

Jeph sighed and waved his hand. The form of Jenkins and Lester hefting hammers in their hands came onto the scene and strode toward the arguing groups surrounding the furnace.

From the gathering of gods surrounding the space where the game was being played, one god strode forward. Milo, the god of luck, spoke up.

“If both of you don’t stop leaning on me for fueling this so much, I’ll give the win to a third party.”

Jeph and Dennis looked at the god guiltily and said in unison,

“I’ll do better.”

They glared at each other.