So it wasn’t the mixture of divine abilities conflicting which led to the failure of the first test; in fact, it seems more like the introduction of a new divine element overwrote the influence of the first... Not that I believed the nonsense I was telling those two, anyways. With this, all signs point to the conclusion that the result of both tests were due to the nature of Renewal’s ability, not some outside factor. In addition, the green coloration of the activation of her ability persisted between the two samples, which appears to be a purely cosmetic distinction, influenced solely by the type of godly power employed. After all, the second test lasted longer than the first-

“OI! THIS WASN’T WHAT YOU PROMISED, ORDER!” Order was rudely shaken out of her musings by a certain enraged God. She looked at him in mild shock, initially surprised at how he was touching her, then peered down at her shoulders to see the yellow glow of materialization surrounding his hands.

“This outcome doesn’t warrant such a disproportionate response, God of Stories and Creati-“

“YES! YES IT DOES! YOU LIED! YOU SAID IT WAS MY FAULT! WHY DID THE SAME EXACT GOD-DAMNED THING HAPPEN AGAIN?!”

Order pried off the grip Stories had on her shoulders, and loftily responded, “It doesn’t warrant an outburst of that extent… because there isn’t a problem to begin with. The first subject perished too quickly for me to have spoken up, but all the God of Renewal has to do is use her ability in its original fashion to rewind the cellular damage - no actual harm has occurred.”

Hearing this, the distraught God wasted no time, showering the mewling mass with sparkles of green. Immediately, the Plerby’s flesh began to knit together, pink skin starting to grow over exposed muscle, and new fur covering that in turn. Within moments, the creature was restored to an unwounded state, healthy and more importantly: alive. Its shrieks of agony gradually calmed down as it felt the searing pain from its once liquefying skin subside.

The purple bear, still in the dark about the cause of its sudden torture and equally inexplicable salvation, looked around in confusion for the threat. When it could not find one, its simple mind started to piece together the information it had gathered. Baby, dead. Body, hurt. Place, bad. The conclusion quickly came; she should avoid this cursed place at all costs. So with one last defiant snort, it bounded off as fast as its two stubby legs could into the darkness of the dense forest.

As soon as the Plerby had left the scene, Stories pinned Order to a nearby tree, slamming her into the wood with considerable force. It didn’t hurt, naturally; Gods were built tough - but Stories didn’t need it to hurt. Just to show that he was oh, so very pissed. “Start talking,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You lied. Why?”

“You’re wasting divine ener-“

“Don’t change the subject. Explain yourself.”

Order sighed. “Because it wasn’t a lie.” (It was.) “The scenario I provided to the two of you made sense to me logically – at the time. One data point does not a line make; I couldn’t know for certain until Renewal had done another test.” Stories maintained eye contact, but released the activation of his ability, allowing Order to slip free.

“This experiment ends now. Renewal is going back where she came.”

“Now hold on, let’s not be hasty here-“

“No, I’ve had it with your lies. She goes home, NOW. Then we’ll go back to the divine realm and have a nice chat with Life about what you’ve done here today.” Order frowned. That was… less than ideal. He couldn’t end the test this early; what she had gathered so far wasn’t enough. She needed more time.

“I said previously that a data point does not make a line, did I not? Well, I can’t draw many useful conclusions from a sample size of two, can I?”

“Tough. Two’s all you’re getting. Come on, Renewal, you’ve suffered enough for a couple of lifetimes. Time to get back to your cozy home.” Stories placed an arm around the girl’s shoulders to support her; she’d gone limp with accumulated stress. But she did manage to snuggle her head weakly into the hollow of his arm and remained there, allowing Stories to carefully lift her into a princess carry.

Order watched on patiently as the lesser God cradled his charge, waiting for her chance to speak up. She’d given up on getting another few more samples; Renewal wasn’t in an optimal state to continue, in any case. But she still couldn’t let him leave – not until he had considered the ramifications of what they’d done today. And what she needed him to do.

“Wait. Fine, the God of Renewal can return to her task. You can let her rest here until she’s recovered enough strength to make her way back herself. But don’t you want to know what comes next?”

Stories turned to face Order once more, with an incredulous glare. “WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO KNOW THAT?! THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT!”

Imbecile, Order silently thought to herself. “You understand what the point of today’s experiment is, correct? The goal?”

“I. DON’T. CARE. Some useless crap about saving dumb mortals – incidentally, something that I’ll be complaining to Life about. Right after I’ve sent this girl home safely.”

“We were trying to observe the impact of godly abilities on mortal species – specifically, the contagion effect present when those abilities are injected into specimens at point blank range. Remember, the God of Renewal healed that last mortal from certain demise – it still carries her mark! What do you think will happen if it spreads this infection to every single Plerby it meets? Every one it touches? The species would go extinct within weeks, if not days!”

The impassioned appeal by Order gave Stories pause – what she was saying made sense; they were indeed trying to recreate what his Divine Inspiration had managed. She didn’t seem to be lying this time, either; her tone was one tinged with urgency, with worry.

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Then he decided it wasn’t his problem.

“If you care so much about the mess you’ve created, you handle it. I’ll be waiting for you at Life’s place when I’ve escorted Renewal back.” With that, Stories kicked off the ground, propelling himself towards the Dimensional Wall in the distance.

As soon as the two lesser Gods were out of earshot, Order swore, kicking the closest tree with her white boots. It wasn’t impossible to continue observation without the two, no - in fact, she liked to think that she worked better alone. But the unspoken words that were conveniently left out when she was making her case to persuade Stories to stay was that she didn’t want to get her own hands dirty. Sorting through books or rearranging documents wasn’t the same as sliding a blade across the neck of a living, breathing animal.

Damn it, she cursed. Fine, I’ll do it myself. Order popped open a brown satchel on her belt and rummaged through it. She hadn’t used the implement much so it was stashed away in her pouch for miscellaneous objects, but she kept it on her at all times, in case she had to cut an apple or something. There. She pulled out the black tube and popped the cap, twisting its end like a lipstick as she did so.

The matte black blade emerged, a razor sharp edge capable of dividing virtually anything in two, a souvenir from Death when he was in his metalworking phase a couple of centuries back. At the time, he’d been basically throwing metal tools and various sculptures at the other Gods as quickly as he could pump them out. But on this occasion, Order was glad that he had; otherwise she might have had to do the gruesome deed with bare hands. She confirmed that the blade had not gone dull with two quick slashes against the bark of a tree. The wood pulp separated itself from the trunk with no resistance whatsoever. Good. She retracted the blade and replaced the cap, returning it to the satchel.

Order materialized her wings once more. She had a purple bear to track down and hunt. If necessary, of course.

Breaking through the canopy with two flaps of her wings, she paused while hovering above the sea of red, running through calculations in her mind. With around 7 minutes of head start, coupled with the average running speed of the bear… Probably around there. Order mentally marked the location and launched herself towards the approximate position of the Plerby, making sure that she’d land just far enough away to not be spotted by her prey.

Sure enough, as she slipped through the branches about ten feet from her estimate, the plodding of heavy paws could be heard echoing through the place. Waving a hand to cancel her wings, she confirmed that her white robes were concealed sufficiently by the shrubbery, and waited for the bear to arrive.

Thump thump… thump thump… Four. Two sets of footsteps. Apparently it had met up with its mate sometime during its frantic escape, because there were now two Plerbies bounding her way. Perfect, Order thought. She’d be able to observe the effects of Renewal’s work first-hand. The bears had come into view now, jogging briskly along, with one lagging behind the other. That one’s the father, Order reasoned. It seemed to be a lot less jumpy, stopping periodically to chew on a nearby bush, seemingly only following to appease its partner.

As the two passed, Order trailed behind them. From Stories’ account of his own experiment, it’d take about a day for any initial effects to take place. If her theory was proven right and the male Plerby was about to melt into a slurry of meat and fur, she’d have to put down the carrier before it could spread the germ any further. After a few hours of stalking, she watched them start to curl up beneath a tree to rest for the day. Order set her mental clock for eight hours from the present, then settled in for the night. Any time now until her theory would be proven right.

The first rays of sunlight shone through the canopy cover, waking the God from her rest. Rubbing her half-opened eyes, Order glanced over at where the bears had made camp previously. It seemed they were early risers; well, one of them anyways. The one that was awake was hunched over the other, paws gripping the shoulders of the sleeping bear. Order blinked away the fatigue and looked closer. No, the one that was prone wasn’t sleeping; there were gooey red strands of meat fibers coming off and sticking to the female Plerby’s paws wherever she touched, akin to dipping one’s hand in hot toffee. It was most definitely deceased.

Order moved closer to observe the aftermath. There, she finally saw that the head of the male Plerby had half melted off, its skull fully exposed to the elements. Whatever had dripped off was currently pooling around the body in a murky black puddle of keratin and blood. The female didn’t seem to understand; or was trying to avoid reality – it was still attempting to wake its partner from his sleep, whining pitifully as she did so.

Fascinating, Order mused. So Renewal’s “power over the cycle” was more akin to simultaneous destruction and reconstruction - from afar, the effects were tuned down, so minute adjustments by the user could more easily be made to maintain equilibrium between the two factors. Up close? The element of destruction ran amok, destroying faster than the object could be rebuilt.

Well, Order thought. At least I know now; the theory holds. I just have to be more selective with the Gods I utilise in the experiment. This shouldn’t be relevant for the other two Gods I’ve chosen; their abilities shouldn’t have detrimental effects as far as I can tell. Then she sighed.

“Guess I can’t put it off any longer. Damn it, Stories. This is why I needed you here – for this part.” Order retrieved the black tube from her pouch, and advanced on the still weeping bear.