Of the few things Deone was sure about, he was sure that he liked to take his time in making decisions. Two minutes wasn’t a lot of time to figure out how he would spend the next few thousand years.

Deone went back over the list floating before him, scanning the potential power he would weld:

Available Domains

Contracts

Wine

War (Timely)

Fire

Art

Oceans

Invention (Wen)

Chaos

Death (Gary)

Pleasure

Animals

The Sun

Light

Magic

Electricity

Order

Crime

Forests

Reptiles (Petra)

Metal

Wind

Moments ago, he was considering a counter-pick for Timely, the newly minted God of War who had proven himself a bit of a prick. Oceans, The Sun, Light… perhaps even Electricity would be a solid pick. Oceans or Electricity would probably be subdomained with Storms, giving mortals a pretty strong reason to believe in and worship him. Forests were always solid. Long after sailors stopped praying for Hurricanes to leave their ships be, there would be mortals praying to the Forest God—if only so they wouldn’t get lost in his mysteries. Were the Fae a possible Godly Perk? Mortal agents that would keep his faith and act in his will?

He dismissed them all. They were powerful. But were they interesting? Were they… a challenge?

Why did he feel so sure he could win this with just about anything?

And why, he thought glancing away from the list down at the seated, androgynous white figure across from him, did he think he wasn’t the only one so sure of himself? Maybe he needed a sure pick. A boring, sure pick….

One of the figures, the one who was as small as a child but otherwise still featureless, spoke to himself while intensely studying the list in front of him.

“There’s not a lot in common here. Nature is pretty much Forests, Animals, maybe Wind? Not a lot to Align with. Fire might Align with War, as Destructive forces….”

“War will align,” Timely drawled, “with anyone willing to help him win. I couldn’t give a fuck if you were God of Bunnies.”

“That Domain is not available,” the omnipresent voice intoned, though the question wasn’t really asked. “Deone, you have 30 seconds.”

“Good thing there’s no God of Speed,” a tall figure, one who had chided Wen earlier for exposing the details of his Godly Perk, called out. “You’d sign up for hares and end up with tortoises!”

Thirty seconds.

Animals might be interesting but, then, Deone’s gut, his instinct level understanding of himself, knew he didn’t actually like animals. He preferred people to pets. Plus, all the bunny quips were annoying him. He’d hate to give either of those tall, cocky deities the satisfaction of…

Twenty seconds.

Interesting, interesting…. Magic? Maybe. But was that within the parameters? Did the world they would compete over even have a magic system? He could ask but… no, no time. Pleasure? Thousands of years as the God of Pleasure… no, he wasn’t a hedonist and he couldn’t figure out what kind of power that would bring. He wanted at least to feel like he could compete with War or Death. Just on his own terms.

Crime was interesting. He dismissed it with a sharp frown, feeling in his gut that his Identity and Crime were… antithetical. He didn’t hate crime, he just deeply despised the idea of being associated with it.

“Five seconds.”

Deone felt that invisible, non-present sweat on his brow and let out a breath.

It was, after all, only a Game.

Deone selected.

The moment he selected he realized , or perhaps remembered, that this was not only a Game.

His body began to glow with golden light, changing… no hair growing on his scalp, instead leaving him bald… not growing any taller or shorter, but feeling his body grow thin, reedy; a severe, wiry kind of muscular, like an old man who could outrun his own grand children. He could not see his own eyes but he knew their irises shifted from grey to sparkling, mineral gold. His skin went from glowing white to a deep, mocha brown. On his chin, a long, white goatee sprouted and fell to the waist of his wine-purple robes. Beneath the robes, he wore sandals that wrapped up to his calves. And strapped across his shoulder, hanging beneath an arm, was a simple leather satchel, filled to the brim with frayed, blank parchments. The paper had a faint glow that made the simple satchel seem mystical. Deone looked around, feeling refreshed and feeling very much himself.

“Fifth of the Pantheon, Deone…. God of Contracts. Subdomain, God of Curses.”

“Fuck,” the tall, cocky and unformed masculine deity quipped with a smirk.

The voice continued… “Subdomain, God of Gamblers.”

“The fuck?!” the cocky deity said again, this time surprised.

Deone’s golden eyes went wide and, instinctually, he stroked his long chin beard thoughtfully. Two subdomains? He hadn’t expected that. It might show the weakness of the Domain in general that he was given two but the subdomains themselves… Curses? He was a God of Curses? That seemed as useful and omni-present as Poisons. It may align him with the darker aspects of the Pantheon…. And Gamblers? What did Gambling have to do with Contracts? He supposed Contracts were…  a promise, in a sense. And breaking a promise tended to cause curses in the first place. It was very circumstantial, at least in fairy tales. But Gambling… How was it connected? Was it that trust was the key? A gambler had to be trusted? Is playing high stakes poker a kind of contract? If you lose, you have to pay up, no matter what?

Deone chose Contracts because he had no idea what the God of Contracts could possibly be. If he wanted interesting, it looked like he just got a large helping of it.

Deone was so lost in thought, considering the implications, that he entirely missed the seventh deity’s name getting called to choose… or his own Godly Perk! He had no idea of his powers! He wanted to interrupt and ask but, as he looked up sharply, about to raise his voice, the seventh had begun to glow and their choice was called out.

“Sixth of the Pantheon, Ze… Deity of Chaos. Subdomain, Deity of Games. Godly Perk: Butterfly’s Flap.”

Ze turned out to be the seated, genderless figure who had seemed so disengaged with the choosing of Domains, never seeming to bother with a glance at the list. They resolved slightly taller, light aqua hair blooming out backwards and slicked against their skull, bringing their sharp cheek bones, thin but bright red lips and white lined in black irises into sharp, severe relief. Their features were in beautiful in an alien, inhuman kind of way. They wore what looked to be a loose vest that hung on their thin frame, colored in a silver that seemed both liquid and metallic, over similar long pants that seemed like a skirt until they moved…

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And they were moving just then, long legs striding with an awkward kind of grace, to the echoing clack of boot heels, to lean in and stare at him, intensely. For a moment, Ze said nothing.

“Diety of Chaos? What is she? Or is she a he?” This came from the cocky, unformed masculine figure.

“Oh, here we go,” muttered Timely. “Can we move on?”

“What? I’m just confused,” the masculine figure said, folding his arms. “You a man, Ze?”

Ze, Deity of Chaos and Games, continued to stare into Deone’s eyes until it made him uncomfortable… but Deone didn’t look away. This was, after all, the kind of weird stuff Gods of Chaos tended to do. Backing down this early wasn’t an option.

“Ze,” they said, “is Ze.” Ze’s voice was as androgynous as the rest of their features. Sultry, light but not especially masculine or feminine. It was not unheard of for a Deity, in the God’s Game, to be either gender, both, or neither. Some, Deone knew innately, manifested as the opposite gender of whomever they were addressing. If someone was ballsy enough to strike the silver off Ze’s body, strip them nude, it was just as likely they’d find no distinguishing genital features as it would be they’d find both.

The masculine figure started to say more but, instead, grunted in disgust at the few sharp glances he received from some of the feminine Pantheon, not to mention the hostile hiss he received from Petra. Wen and Gary looked uncomfortable, both of their arms folded. Timely, as usual, looked impatient.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Deone said, calmly taking a single step away. Deone’s voice, he realized, had a stately quality to it. It was reedy but held… weight.

“You are God of Gambling,” Ze stated, their tone curiously sing-song.

“I am.”

“I am the Deity of Games. We… are in Alignment.”

“I object!” Timely called out. “Or whatever! This is wasting time. We should wait until the Pantheon is chosen before Aligning.”

“You,” Deone pointed out without breaking eye contact from Ze, “were the first God to bring up Aligning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t make deals,” Timely said with a shrug, smugly brushing his thick curls over a shoulder. “I just said you could stand with me. More choosing, less talking.”

Before Ze or Deone could speak again, the omnipresent voice guiding the Game rang out, calling for the Eighth of the Pantheon, Wes, to choose. Wes was the tall, cocky masculine figure; with little deliberation, he tapped a finger to the floating menu before him and threw out his arms, awaiting the golden glow with flourish.

“Seventh of the Pantheon, Wes… God of Oceans. Subdomain, God of Storms. Godly Perk: Stormbringer.”

Wes formed, filling out to a size larger than any other in the Pantheon so far. The whites of his eyes grew dark and cloudy, his irises a bright and brilliant sea blue. His face shaped from featureless into a deeply lined, furious scowl. For a moment, it seemed he would be as bald as Deone but his scalp began to weep… Water spilled down from his head and over his body, covering his nude form like a liquid toga, a toga with small, live fish swimming in its depths. When the toga was completed, the weeping of his scalp became a steady, thin waterfall that fell down his shoulders but never seem to spill past them.  

When he spoke, Wes’ voice thundered. “This. Is so. Fucking. Awesome. How could you guys have left this on the board? I’m the fucking God of Oceans, baby!”

The feminine form, who had, until down, been doing yoga, paused and cocked her head. “So you’re, like, Aquaman?”

Several of the Pantheon chuckled.

“We should Align,” Ze stage-whispered to Deone, now casually leaning against his shoulder. “We’re natural allies, Games and Gambling.”

“You’re talking subdomains,” Deone said, pulling away with a huff, straightening his purple robes. “How do Contracts and Chaos align? Better question, does Chaos align with anyone? Chaos is… Chaotic!”

“When I want to, yes. When I don’t, no.”

The voice called for the Eigth God to make their choice, calling for Ayaan, the childlike figure who had been muttering to themselves throughout while considering the Domain list before them.

“What do you bring to the table?” Deone asked. “Chaos tends to wreck things, play by their own rules. Or no rules. You could Align him,” he said, nodding towards Wes who was, at that moment, comparing muscles with Timely. “The Ocean God over there.”

“I don’t like him,” Ze said stiffly.

“Why not? You don’t know him.”

“He doesn’t like me. I know that much.”

“I don’t like you. I don’t know you.”

“Yes,” Ze said with an altogether seductive smile on their thin red lips. “But you’re reasonable,” they drew out each syllable of that word, “enough not to need to. Contracts don’t have feelings.”

Ayaan made his choice, was bathed in light and, despite already being the smallest of the Pantheo, grew… smaller. Not child size or even toddler size. Ayaan became the size of a doll, mere inches in height. And yet, when he spoke, it was in a voice no softer or smaller than any other. It was like he was standing right next to each of them.

“Is there someone’s shoulder I can stand on? I’d feel better if I could see you all eye to eye.”

“Eighth of the Pantheon, Ayaan… God of Magic. Subdomain, God of Dreams. Subdomain, God of Illusions. Godly Perk: False Miracles.”

Ze suddenly lost all interest in Deone and strode, their silver pants billowing with every step, to Ayaan. They dropped into a wide legged squat and offered their palm.

“Now we, my little friend, are very much in Alignment.”

The little man, otherwise dressed in gold finery and great and bulbous harem pants, a little man with comically large and bushy black mustache—larger than his face, easily—climbed onto Ze’s palm and made a deep, sweeping bow. “Ah, a friendly hand up for the little guy.” He grinned as Ze lifted and placed him on their shoulder, where they began a low, muttering conversation.

Deone was relieved. As much as their existence didn’t seem to offend him as much as it did Wes, he still found Ze… unnerving.

The next to choose was… Songbird. Songbird turned out to be the figure who had been doing Yoga. When the voice announced them, Songbird moved into another stretching pose and simply said, “No, thank you.”

The rest of the Pantheon looked about at eachother in surprise. Ze and Ayaan’s conversation paused, while Timely and Wes stopped eyeing eachother long enough to begin eyeing Songbird. Gary, the God of Death, laughed.

“You can do that?” Deone wondered aloud and then realized that, indeed, you could. The voice confirmed, “Songbird has chosen to be Last of the Pantheon.”

“Thank you,” Songbird said. She returned to her stretches and the Game moved on.

The Ninth of the Pantheon was Khadijah, a feminine form who had, thus far, very little to say. Rather than choose on the menu, Khadijah called out her Domain and more than any other Deity, her golden light blazed with painful brightness, a brightness that lingered even after her form resolved itself. She was full-figured, curvy, and brown skinned wearing a sari whose colors shifted from red to flowing yellow to a white that even other Deities had trouble staring at too long. Her eyes blazed bright, spilling light from their corners like steady tears. And yet her hair was an inky, depthless black; a black deeper than black, seeming to swallow her own light and move across her sari as if it were causing an eclipse. 

Khadijah, Goddess of the Sun and Resurrection, stood before them and waggled her head. “I do believe you have all made a terrible mistake. This is what real power looks like,” she said, smiling with full, dark red lips.

Deone had no idea what her Godly Perk, Sign of the Sun God, meant but it certainly sounded impressive. But, then, Deone still had no idea what his own Godly Perk was much less what it did.

The next to choose was another feminine figure who resolved into a solidly built, thick thighed, broad shouldered and busty black skinned woman… Like Khadijah, her eyes blazed but instead of light there was active, flickering flames. A form fitting gown of smoldering magma seemed to pour from her skin, beginning from just above a generous neckline and below a mane of thick dreadlocks that, themselves, seemed made of char and cooling lava.

Pre-empting the voice, she called out to the Pantheon, “I am Zuzu, Goddess of Fire!”

The guiding voice supplied, “Subdomain, Goddess of Volcanos. Godly Perk, Rage of the Land.”

Khadijah frowned, looking Zuzu up and down. “You’re stepping into my territory.”

“You are The Sun,” Zuzu said in a melodic tone that felt familiar to Deone. “I am Fire. You are my territory, dear Khadijah.”

Khadijah folded her arms and for a moment the light of her eyes blazed. Zuzu’s fiery eyes blazed back.

Deone knew, innately, that all Deities spoke the same language but Zuzu’s accent had a sense of place, just a place he could not name. He liked the way she talked, though. That, of course, did not mean they were in Alignment. 

“Fire, Oceans, Magic, the fucking Sun,” Wes said, his voice rumbling and, in his permanent scowl, his smirk somehow furious. “I bet you wish you didn’t pick Contracts now, huh, Deone?”

Deone arched a bushy white eyebrow but Timely spoke up before he could.

“The Game was over the moment War was off the table,” Timely drawled. “Everything else is just filling out a roster.”

For a moment, Wes’ toga swirled against his body, the living fish inside swarming into panicked schools as the surface of their little sea churned. Wes abruptly turned to Zuzu, who was still throwing shade at Khadijah.

“Zuzu, Goddess of Fire and Volcanos, will you stand in Alignment with the God of Oceans and Storms?”

“Hey,” Timely started in but Zuzu moved forward, seeming to flow across the floor of nothingness leaving wisps of smoke in her wake, until she reached Wes and offered a hand.

“I will, indeed, Great God of the Oceans,” Zuzu said with a grin. “Shall we be friends, then?”

“Your interests are my interests,” Wes rumbled. “My followers will respect you and yours and they shall not come to War,” the last word emphasized as he looked towards Timely and look Zuzu’s hand.

A gong sounded in Deone’s skull, one that made him wince a moment though none of the rest of the Pantheon reacted beyond Timely shaking in anger. That gong sounded through every inch of his body but more so, it seemed to vibrate… from his satchel. Deone began to open it but looked up again sharply as Timely marched over to Gary, the God of Death.

“Join me, Gary. War and Death go hand in hand. We’re the most natural Alignment in the Game. My every decision will basically give you power. We can end this game faster than it’s ever been played.” Timely extended his massive hand, looking at Gary intently.

“Pass.”

“Gary. Who else would you be better Aligned with? I’m a God of War, man. My worshippers kill people.”

Gary’s smile was made ghoulish by his pale skin and thin form. “Hard pass.”

Before Timely could continue his pitch, Wen called out. “I will join you, Timely.”

Timely glanced back at Wen, dismissively, raising a finger to count out another point to Gary but Wen continued speaking.

“Steel,” Wen said, raising a finger of his own. “Archery.” A second finger. “Gun powder. Canon. Submarine. Nuclear arms,” Wen continued to count off fingers. “Nanophages. War is powerful. But War without Invention is just cave men clawing eachother in the mud.”

Wen dropped his hands, folding them behind his back and waited.

“You know,” Timely said, casting a dark glance over his shoulder. “I don’t like being wrong.”

Timely turned away from Gary and sauntered over to Wen, looming over the smaller God. Wen, for his pant, did not blink or move away when Timely leaned in… and offered his hand.

When they shook hands, Timely’s massive fist swallowed Wen’s but Wen did not seem the least bit intimidated.

“We are Aligned.”

Again, a thrumming gong sounded through Deone’s skull and his satchel pulsed against his side. Again, none of the rest of the Pantheon seemed to react to the Alignments with anything more than calculations and considering glances.

Petra watched Wes and Zuzu but made no move to join them, while Khadijah tapped an impatient foot, shaking her head. Ze and Ayaan grinned at each other like children plotting a prank while Gary’s ghoulish grin seemed like a permanent facial feature.

Songbird was now laying face down on her stomach, her arms at her sides.

The other two, as yet unformed, Deities watched them all.

The Pantheon was Aligning, already. These relationships would not just shape the nature of the God’s Game, whose interests would lie with whose…. Alignments would shape the very world they would battle over and the nature of the mortals who inhabited it.

Deone would not yet make his choice.

There were, after all, three Deities left to choose their Domains.

As the voice began its chant for the next of the Deities to choose their sphere of influence, Deone reached into his satchel and pulled out a glowing parchment.

Reading the simple words marked there, each letter, each symbol, on it shifting and alive, Deone knew that the meaning behind the words and symbols were as unchangeable, binding and forever.

Deone smiled to himself. This was… very interesting.