As tall as the Baron’s manor and a hundred times as menacing, Grensfield's Church of the Council sat at the center of the city surrounded by the most affluent of businesses, its white walls juxtaposed against a clear blue sky and painted buildings. A well maintained multicolored brick road encircled it, giving the Church itself a large degree of separation from the rest of the city, as well as a feeling of honor and majesty. The Church was other, superior, at once a place of commune and a reminder that mankind was, at the end of the day, subservient to the Gods above.

There was no more foul a sight.

Eyes looked upon him with mixed fear and wonder as he strode into the church, watching. Some even bent down in prayer as he passed. He did his best not to scowl.

“Really hate it that much?” Dhatri asked, seeing through him.

“They are not my Gods, and I care little for their celebration,” he said.

“Not your Gods,” Dhatri repeated. “One would not expect an amnesiac to have such a strong opinion on the matter of gods. Tell me, then, of your Gods.”

There is only one God, he wanted to say, but the words turned to clay in his mouth and would not come. Instead he said, “Perhaps another time.”

Countless gasps and whispers sounded out as they entered the church, each sound echoing off the walls in an inaudible cacophony of noise before disappearing into a void of silence, leaving only the muffled sounds of his footsteps atop a carpet of red and gold that stretched down the middle. The interior of the Church of the Council was just as grand as the exterior; brightly lit, every wall was as much stained glass as it was marble, the windows creating a kaleidoscope of colors upon the eastern wall as sunlight filtered in from the west.

There was a spark of the divine here, he was ashamed to admit. An ethereal substance glazed over every sight, every smell, every sensation that could be had until finally he had no choice but to admit it, despite his misgivings. There was power here, and much of it. The fact did nothing to improve his mood and, if anything, worsened it. By the time he reached the altar there was no hiding his scowl.

Dhatri took charge. “People of Grensfield, I am Commander Dhatri of Titemore. With me is the knight who assaulted your city single handedly, a fact many of you already know. It was by his power, and the power of the Gods, that Baron Licestor met his end. And it was by this same power that the Hilvan dogs that once encroached on our majestic Empire have been sent into cowardly retreat. And so the victor has come to claim this holy city of Grensfield for the Empire, and it must be asked: to which God do we honor this day?”

Dhatri turned and looked up at him with a quizzical gaze, and resentment boiled within Alden’s chest. He had to pick one. Better, in some ways, than honoring the Council of Gods as a whole, which would, he feared, solidify their institution above mankind. But honoring a single deity of the Council was not much better, as to honor one would make that deity’s power real in a way he could not endure.

There is but one God, he thought, clenching his fists.

But feeling the stares of the crowd, and of Dhatri, he knew he could not delay his decision much longer. And, truth be told, there was at least one of the Eight he did not mind honoring, in so much as there existed a shared domain. Healing. Even now Alden had kept the prayer token granted to him by Tybold. It seemed only right, then, to honor her.

“As a healer,” he finally said, his voice loud and booming like the clap of thunder, “I feel that I must honor Aspaneous, the God of Health, for this great victory.”

There was visible shock in the crowd, as well as the threat of murmurs and whispers. But they remained silent, waiting.

Dhatri smiled at him. He was shocked as well, Alden saw, though he hid it better than most. “Then let us pray.”

Dhatri knelt and clasped his hands together, eyes closed. Alden mimicked him, his weight bearing down hard and his knees rubbing painfully against the stone floor.

In the silence of the church and the darkness of his closed eyes something moved, swirling in great round arcs, like wheels of invisible smoke. He opened his eyes, but the darkness persisted, and he realized he had not opened his eyes at all.

Silence continued for minutes, and as he struggled to move he found he no longer felt the pain in his knees, nor the touch of his hands clasped together. He could feel nothing, his body numb. He struggled again to move, to open his eyes, to no avail.

There were no eyelids to open, no limbs to move, no mouth with which to scream.

The swirling arcs strengthened and began to flow faster. He fixated on the motion, whatever it was, wrapping his attention on the movement until it began to meld with his very sense of being. To do otherwise meant to disappear into the void. He refused to fade.

Sparkling, the swirls began to take on true form, one familiar to him. Like broken glass turned to smoke, Alden recognized it as the same substance that had encompassed the mage Lukas during their battle. It was divine power in its raw form, the power of the Gods themselves.

As his senses sharpened and the reality around him clarified, he saw that the swirling arcs were far larger than he had first detected. Fear took him as he began to comprehend what was before him, an alien terror that gripped the core of his being and instilled in him a desire to flee so great he thought he would go mad. But he was formless here, unable to move, unable to look away from the grand arcing swirls of divine power that reached above and below him so far as to almost feel endless, even as he came to understand that what was before him was not some mere cloud of divine energy but, instead, a living, thinking entity.

Stolen novel; please report.

But the swirls were not endless. Tremendous, yes, dauntingly so, mountains of divinity compared to the mere speck that was his existence. Yet, as his senses expanded further, he realized that they were miniscule in comparison to the vast ocean of power that was this strange realm, which expanded so far in every direction that he could not sense the end of it. So far did his senses reach now that, had he not focused on the entity before him, he would have drowned in the magnificent sprawl of the place.

“INTERLOPER!”

The words struck him like a wave of ice water, almost physical in their empartment of knowledge, of intent. The words were not heard, nor were they felt, at least not in the way Alden recognized such a sensation. No, it was as if the words crossed over his very being, tendrils of divinity grazing the outer reaches of his soul.

“Where am I?” he replied, willing his question into the expanse of this place. He could only hope that the entity before him could understand him.

“CURIOUS,” the entity replied. There was movement then of the shattered glass-smoke of the entity, reaching out like arms. They wrapped around Alden and tightened, and the entity’s malice leaked from them.

“Stop,” he said too late, the arms squeezing against him. But just as his existence was about to be snuffed out there was a flash of something, a spike of power different from that of the entity’s and the realm’s.

The arms retreated back into the swirling entity, and ebbed off its being.

“MAKER!” the entity screamed into the void, and Alden’s senses followed it like a ripple atop a still lake. It moved fast through the void, faster than any sound. Then, one by one, he began to detect them. Other entities like the one before him, each of them titanic beings in their own right, though far smaller in size. As his senses continued to expand he saw that there were hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Then, at the farthest reaches of his senses, he began to detect others, massive entities equal to the one before him. He counted seven in all.

Eight, when he counted the one in front of him.

He was in the realm of the Gods.

There was a shift in his senses at the realization, and from the God before him he felt its domain…her domain. Health and healing and even life itself sprung forth from the God Aspaneous, the very concepts of each infusing the space around her and penetrating into Alden’s being and, curiously, he felt the energies being absorbed into his own.

“What do you seek?” Aspaneous asked, her words no longer the forceful waves they had once been. Even still, however, they were filled with malice and hate. “You offer me half hearted prayer and bear my token. You, the enemy of the Gods, the… wait.”

She extended her divine arms once more, and from them she drew knowledge. Knowledge of himself, though not from himself. Instead she drew through him, using him as a mere vessel by which to transfer the knowledge from another. From the Oracle.

“You do not know…” Aspaneous mused.

“Know what?” he asked.

The deity cackled, and the realm around them shook with her power.

“IGNORANT FOOL!” she screamed.

In the far distance of the great expanse the seven Gods Alden had detected began to move, their titanic forms swimming through the aether with malign desire. One by one the smaller entities followed, themselves frightened by clamor of the greater Gods.

They were coming to kill him.

Turning his senses inward, Alden searched for a way out, and found nothing. Where he expect to find his own being, his own soul, he saw nothing but divinity of the realm, unaffected by his presence.

“Status!” he called out, his thoughts bare to the world, trying anything that might work. When nothing happened panic set in, and his senses thrashed about, hyper-fixating on one thing for mere moments before moving on to the next. He could feel the waves of sadistic satisfaction that emanated from Aspaneous as he struggled, and a spike of anger grew within him.

He pulled divine energy into himself and launched it at her in the shape of a spear. The spear struck her and she cried out, more from shock than pain. Alden did stop to wonder at how he had done it. Focusing hard, he pulled the divine power into himself and merged it with his own being.

Notice

System now able to utilize Divine Energy.

System will now evolve into a new state.

The change sparked something in Aspaneous. She reached out once and latched herself onto the fragments of divinity now within Alden, the fingers of her own power clawing against his own.

Notice

Interference detected. Using Creation Energy to fend off Divine Energy.

Aspaneous’s power bounced off of his own, releasing her hold. In her frustration she lashed out once more, attempting to strike him down, and her power fell over him like a river. Her power buffeted against him and he felt something within begin to crack.

Notice

Damage to the System detected.

Attempting to extract User from the Realm of the Gods.

Opening his eyes he found himself gone from the strange realm, now back in the Church with a thousand men, women, and children at prayer. He waited a short time until Dhatri opened his eyes and said “And our prayers are heard.”

That was the end of it, it seemed, as the crowd of people began to filter out of the building with mixed expressions. Most seemed content in some way.

Notice

I apologize, master, but it appears that I was unable to finish my upgrades in time to stop the God Aspaneous from damaging my faculties. I will now analyze my current state.

Analysis complete. It appears that a number of my abilities have been damaged, including my ability to access Creation Energy. As such, the All-Maker ability will now have additional restrictions, including now only being available once every four months.

Fortunately, due to your absorption of Divine Energy I appear to have gained sentience, and am now able to utilize my functions more efficiently. I also appear able to alter and upgrade my functionality, though this will require either Creation Energy, Divine Energy, or leveling up.

I look forward to working with you, master.