As the world burned around him, Yotu ran.
It was an act so beneath him that he couldn’t escape the shame of it, each time his feet pounded against the dirt beneath him was a reminder of how close he’d come, only to fail in the end and be trapped in such a pathetic state. A god, bound to the body of a mortal, spending the last little bit of life he had being hunted down by his brethren, all for the crime of wanting just a little more.
How could he help it though? The other gods he’d been born with might have seen it as a betrayal, but the nature of the world around him couldn’t help but be an affront to all he was. Perhaps in the wider universe that passing void gods had told them about there’d been others like him, gods of death who could tolerate worlds filled with life, but he couldn’t.
In his eyes, the natural order had always been for life to fail in the end, letting him rule over anything that had the strength to hold its soul in the land after that fact as his numbers grew, leaving him as the reigning god of that world, but the actions of the others, his fellow gods and the mortals they so loved, seemed designed to keep him from that birthright.
Despite standing equal with the other three of the Disneti and despite sharing in the worship their people gave them all, the mortals beneath them did not give death the respect it deserved.
Priests of light and death affinities brought restless souls to peace while healers did their best to prolong and save lives, keeping him from his claim of faith, the one they worshiped the most whenever a mortal felt their end coming. As millennia wore on, how could he do anything other than rebel?
And it had gone so well at first too! He’d tricked and trapped the other three, leaving their voices quiet to the world and letting him act unimpeded, finding those among the population who hated life as much as he, whispering in their ears his dream of an empty world and selecting the best of them to act as his vessel before using the faith he’d gained unimpeded to make it happen, bringing plague and despair to any lush land, rotting the woods and slowly killing the world as those he’d recruited chose to slaughter, building up violent deaths that would ensure so many wouldn’t get the peace they desired and making their spirits linger, acting as permanent pockets of faith for him to indulge in.
Even with all of his power, he hadn’t been fast by mortal standards as a thousand years of suffering graced the people of his world, but by that of a god, he felt quite quick. He lived on his own time scale and enjoyed watching the chaos unfold below as his power grew.
Not just ghosts to plunder; the people feared him, giving a different sort of faith to power him. A faith that all hope was lost, that he’d always be there to make them suffer and that nobody would save them. A faith he believed as well until it all started to go wrong.
For all of his power, there were always going to be those who resisted, those who struggled till the end, but they’d never been worth worrying about. Why mourn the loss of a follower when their soul simply joined his legion? Why worry about a ghost passing beyond when so much of the life in the world clung on afterward, the very suffering he’d inflicted on them creating a hate or despair so great that their souls couldn’t rest, only for those same souls to keep powering him? Why worry about the final struggles of a doomed people?
When he looked back, that was the point he’d lost. He’d grown too comfortable in his victory, letting a variable grow beyond control.
Him.
Someone who’d taken the purifying aspects of light magic and the parts of death that let spirits rest and unified them into something new and dangerous, a person who hadn’t even registered as a blip until they’d grown to have a level of strength comparable to the few demigods of the past and then kept growing beyond that, becoming something that could destroy his undead legion with a wave of his hand. A person who had grown to be something Yotu had never dreamed could have existed, something his world had never seen before. A mortal who’d risen to godhood, with all of the power such a thing implied.
Their first true fight had been a draw, both taking wounds, even if the mortal had come out as the lighter of the two. He may have lost an arm in that battle, but as changed as the light mana within him was, it had grown to a level none before had achieved, he would grow it back in no time.
Yotu though had something different happen to him, something he couldn’t have predicted and couldn’t undo. He’d been bound to the host he’d descended up.
The fact that he’d done it at all was something he’d always curse, even if he knew that there was no world he wouldn’t have. When they needed to interact with the world, gods enjoyed using a mortal host. It let them exercise their power in different ways than when they merely looked down upon it and let them enjoy the pleasures the world had to offer as well. It was all good to rule in the realms, but better to walk among the people, letting them feel his overwhelming strength and enjoying the fear that would come with it, right before he’d wipe away any settlement unfortunate enough to be graced with his presence. He’d had no way to predict that the body he’d chosen would become a prison, giving him no room to flee.
From there, things had only grown worse. The world’s new god exerted his power, cleansing the lands of the dead and even managed to free the other Disneti, his imprisoned family choosing champions of their own to walk in, all of them seeking to undo all he’d worked towards as Yotu was slowly hunted down until finally he was cornered. Not by the one who’d defied the fate of the world and brought its doom to a halt, but instead his brother Feelex, looking not angry but sad.
“Why?” Feelex asked, unable to keep himself from wanting answers. “Why did it have to come to this brother? What made you so…”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Yotu spat. If things were to end he saw no point in talking, better he be finished. “What made me this? I’ve always been this! Would you question an anahok for downing trees or a numongoo for digging their pits? This is my nature, suppressed for so long as you all insisted on playing with your little mortals! Why should it be a shock that I’d finally take what I deserve!”
“Take what you deserve? There are lands here that may never bear life again! God of death or not, we all came from the life of this world! Do you really think the nature you grew into changes that?”
“What do you want to get out of this? Do you think I’ll renounce my actions at the very end of this?” He laughed. “I’d do it again, when you look back on this day, you remember that.”
Feelex couldn’t keep the heartbreak from his face that not even at the end would his brother show any regret and moved to finish things once and for all, only to stop.
Despite all of the suffering, despite all of the horrors he’d caused, Yotu was still his brother. They’d grow together on a world before the life of the place had become so complex, before their natures were solidified and before they were even truly gods. He existed in his earliest memories and that weakness led to a choice as the god’s power finally moved.
“I am a fool,” The god despaired as the world began to shake beneath Yotu’s feet. “Our people deserve their justice but even after all of this, I still can’t kill you, brother, but I can’t let you free either.”
“So what?” Yotu laughed, unable to keep a bit of thrill from touching his voice. “You’ll imprison me as I did to you? You soft-hearted idiot, the others won’t let you and even if they would, should I ever escape then I’ll do this all over again.”
Perhaps he should have begged for the mercy it seemed like his brother wanted to give, but Yotu wouldn’t do that. Even with all he’d done, he had some of his dignity as a god. Better to meet his end and truly accept his nature than to plead for his life.
Despite expectations though, Feelex shook his head as the shaking world began to split, pulling Yotu in, not to the dirt, but a lower level of reality.
“I don’t have it in me to kill you but you’re too dangerous to be allowed to stay, even if we were to cage you. No, this here is really for the best.”
Yotu’s earlier laughter turned into a mad cackling as he understood what was going on, the evil god filling with joy as he understood what was happening.
“Oh brother, you really will live to regret this!”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. Suffer through it all Yotu, you have eternity for that.”
Still the god cackled as he sunk deeper down, feeling plans form in the last seconds he’d have. His brother was worse than a merciful fool, he was an idiot to boot. A mortal had risen to godhood just to stop him and if he’d been the one to find Yotu then it was clear how things would have ended.
Instead, one of the world's gods had chosen to simply hide him away, not only freeing him from punishment, but potentially even giving him a new source of power for the second he escaped.
As the god of death sunk to the infinite hells, the fractured dimension where mortal souls across the universe were sent to suffer, he knew that all he’d have to do was wait to be freed before finding his way back there to claim his world and his revenge, the joy he felt at the future before him only stopping once he was fully trapped and everything he was shattered.
As the world burned around him, Yotu ran.
It was an act so beneath him that he couldn’t escape the shame of it, each time his feet pounded against the dirt beneath him was a reminder of how close he’d come, only to fail in the end and be trapped in such a pathetic state. A god, bound to the body of a mortal, spending the last little bit of life he had being hunted down by his brethren, all for the crime of wanting just a little more.
How could he help it though? The other gods he’d been born with might have seen it as a betrayal, but the nature of the world around him couldn’t help but be an affront to all he was. Perhaps in the wider universe that passing void gods had told them about there’d been others like him, gods of death who could tolerate worlds filled with life, but he couldn’t.
In his eyes, the natural order had always been for life to fail in the end, letting him rule over anything that had the strength to hold its soul in the land after that fact as his numbers grew, leaving him as the reigning god of that world, but the actions of the others, his fellow gods and the mortals they so loved, seemed designed to keep him from that birthright.
Despite standing equal with the other three of the Disneti and despite sharing in the worship their people gave them all, the mortals beneath them did not give death the respect it deserved.
Priests of light and death affinities brought restless souls to peace while healers did their best to prolong and save lives, keeping him from his claim of faith, the one they worshiped the most whenever a mortal felt their end coming. As millennia wore on, how could he do anything other than rebel?
And it had gone so well at first too! He’d tricked and trapped the other three, leaving their voices quiet to the world and letting him act unimpeded, finding those among the population who hated life as much as he, whispering in their ears his dream of an empty world and selecting the best of them to act as his vessel before using the faith he’d gained unimpeded to make it happen, bringing plague and despair to any lush land, rotting the woods and slowly killing the world as those he’d recruited chose to slaughter, building up violent deaths that would ensure so many wouldn’t get the peace they desired and making their spirits linger, acting as permanent pockets of faith for him to indulge in.
Even with all of his power, he hadn’t been fast by mortal standards as a thousand years of suffering graced the people of his world, but by that of a god, he felt quite quick. He lived on his own time scale and enjoyed watching the chaos unfold below as his power grew.
Not just ghosts to plunder; the people feared him, giving a different sort of faith to power him. A faith that all hope was lost, that he’d always be there to make them suffer and that nobody would save them. A faith he believed as well until it all started to go wrong.
For all of his power, there were always going to be those who resisted, those who struggled till the end, but they’d never been worth worrying about. Why mourn the loss of a follower when their soul simply joined his legion? Why worry about a ghost passing beyond when so much of the life in the world clung on afterward, the very suffering he’d inflicted on them creating a hate or despair so great that their souls couldn’t rest, only for those same souls to keep powering him? Why worry about the final struggles of a doomed people?
When he looked back, that was the point he’d lost. He’d grown too comfortable in his victory, letting a variable grow beyond control.
Him.
Someone who’d taken the purifying aspects of light magic and the parts of death that let spirits rest and unified them into something new and dangerous, a person who hadn’t even registered as a blip until they’d grown to have a level of strength comparable to the few demigods of the past and then kept growing beyond that, becoming something that could destroy his undead legion with a wave of his hand. A person who had grown to be something Yotu had never dreamed could have existed, something his world had never seen before. A mortal who’d risen to godhood, with all of the power such a thing implied.
Their first true fight had been a draw, both taking wounds, even if the mortal had come out as the lighter of the two. He may have lost an arm in that battle, but as changed as the light mana within him was, it had grown to a level none before had achieved, he would grow it back in no time.
Yotu though had something different happen to him, something he couldn’t have predicted and couldn’t undo. He’d been bound to the host he’d descended up.
The fact that he’d done it at all was something he’d always curse, even if he knew that there was no world he wouldn’t have. When they needed to interact with the world, gods enjoyed using a mortal host. It let them exercise their power in different ways than when they merely looked down upon it and let them enjoy the pleasures the world had to offer as well. It was all good to rule in the realms, but better to walk among the people, letting them feel his overwhelming strength and enjoying the fear that would come with it, right before he’d wipe away any settlement unfortunate enough to be graced with his presence. He’d had no way to predict that the body he’d chosen would become a prison, giving him no room to flee.
From there, things had only grown worse. The world’s new god exerted his power, cleansing the lands of the dead and even managed to free the other Disneti, his imprisoned family choosing champions of their own to walk in, all of them seeking to undo all he’d worked towards as Yotu was slowly hunted down until finally he was cornered. Not by the one who’d defied the fate of the world and brought its doom to a halt, but instead his brother Feelex, looking not angry but sad.
“Why?” Feelex asked, unable to keep himself from wanting answers. “Why did it have to come to this brother? What made you so…”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Yotu spat. If things were to end he saw no point in talking, better he be finished. “What made me this? I’ve always been this! Would you question an anahok for downing trees or a numongoo for digging their pits? This is my nature, suppressed for so long as you all insisted on playing with your little mortals! Why should it be a shock that I’d finally take what I deserve!”
“Take what you deserve? There are lands here that may never bear life again! God of death or not, we all came from the life of this world! Do you really think the nature you grew into changes that?”
“What do you want to get out of this? Do you think I’ll renounce my actions at the very end of this?” He laughed. “I’d do it again, when you look back on this day, you remember that.”
Feelex couldn’t keep the heartbreak from his face that not even at the end would his brother show any regret and moved to finish things once and for all, only to stop.
Despite all of the suffering, despite all of the horrors he’d caused, Yotu was still his brother. They’d grow together on a world before the life of the place had become so complex, before their natures were solidified and before they were even truly gods. He existed in his earliest memories and that weakness led to a choice as the god’s power finally moved.
“I am a fool,” The god despaired as the world began to shake beneath Yotu’s feet. “Our people deserve their justice but even after all of this, I still can’t kill you, brother, but I can’t let you free either.”
“So what?” Yotu laughed, unable to keep a bit of thrill from touching his voice. “You’ll imprison me as I did to you? You soft-hearted idiot, the others won’t let you and even if they would, should I ever escape then I’ll do this all over again.”
Perhaps he should have begged for the mercy it seemed like his brother wanted to give, but Yotu wouldn’t do that. Even with all he’d done, he had some of his dignity as a god. Better to meet his end and truly accept his nature than to plead for his life.
Despite expectations though, Feelex shook his head as the shaking world began to split, pulling Yotu in, not to the dirt, but a lower level of reality.
“I don’t have it in me to kill you but you’re too dangerous to be allowed to stay, even if we were to cage you. No, this here is really for the best.”
Yotu’s earlier laughter turned into a mad cackling as he understood what was going on, the evil god filling with joy as he understood what was happening.
“Oh brother, you really will live to regret this!”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. Suffer through it all Yotu, you have eternity for that.”
Still the god cackled as he sunk deeper down, feeling plans form in the last seconds he’d have. His brother was worse than a merciful fool, he was an idiot to boot. A mortal had risen to godhood just to stop him and if he’d been the one to find Yotu then it was clear how things would have ended.
Instead, one of the world's gods had chosen to simply hide him away, not only freeing him from punishment, but potentially even giving him a new source of power for the second he escaped.
As the god of death sunk to the infinite hells, the fractured dimension where mortal souls across the universe were sent to suffer, he knew that all he’d have to do was wait to be freed before finding his way back there to claim his world and his revenge, the joy he felt at the future before him only stopping once he was fully trapped and everything he was shattered.
