Young Writers Society

Welcome to Genii! I have a few rules before we start, so let's just run through them.

1. All of the normal SB rules apply!
2. Your character sheet must have at least 7 sentences for personality and at least 7 for appearance (if you have a photo, this is optional and the minimum sentence rule doesn't count.).
3. You may have as many characters as you think you can manage. However, I'm going to advise you stick to 2.
4. If you wish to leave the SB, please PM me, and roleplay out your departure unless you need to be leaving ASAP.
5. Romance (ew xD) is allowed, but nothing graphic.
6. Please try and keep fighting realistic. Also, here's a fancy page about injuries.
7. Just because you can play as a god, doesn't mean you can god mod.

I strongly encourage you to read the posts in the DT. They contain some very useful information. If you have any questions, post in the DT.

Races

Deities - technically the highest up in the imaginary ranks. Deities, or gods, are human-like inhabitants of an, the heavens. They are bound to a set of rules set out by Enlil known as me. The me ensure that all gods keep the balance of the universe (an-ki). Deities are not immortal - they are simply very long-lived. Deities are also able to be killed by anyone or any disease that can affect gods, mostly caused by sinning and dalkhu creation. Killing a god is difficult, however, as they will very likely be guarded by genii and have extremely powerful magic. When deities die, they are usually reincarnated quickly, unless their soul is suspended by powerful dalkhu magic.

Humans - the inhabitants of ki, earth. Humans are often caught between god fights, even when they are unaware of it. An average human cannot see a god, a dalkhu or a genii, but a human who has exceptional psychic abilities or who has had accidental contact with a non-human being is able to see them. Humans can become genii if they were doing something important when they died, e.g. driving to pick someone up, paying bills.

Genii - ghosts, spirits, those who have moved on. Genii are essentially ghosts. They cannot communicate through normal means having lost their physical bodies and thus lost their voice, but they can attempt to communicate using many psychic abilities. They are able to become servants of gods or dalkhu, often employed as spies or weapon-forgers. They are usually treated well by both races, but are feared and mistaken for demons and malicious spirits by humans.

Dalkhu - true demons. Dalkhu live in the nether world and are usually gods or genii who have been cast out of an for breaking the me. Dalkhu are not all evil - this is a common misconception. They are often portrayed as evil because of their mistakes and/or because of their frantic attempts to regain access to an. The nether world is a place where god magic is locked away and blocked from leaving the dimension, rendering dalkhu who were previously gods powerless. Only another god or a powerful genii owned by a god can release them.

Any race can be any gender. Please include what your god/dalkhu-god is a god of in "Race" and your genii's / dalkhu-genii's death in "History".

Code: Select all

[b]Full Name:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b]
[b]Belongings:[/b]

“...And that's when I realized that I needed one more thing to complete my masterpiece. It was a very powerful spice that my mother had taught me to cook a long time ago. I was a little rusty, and I think that's why the accident happened.”

The man glanced at the lavishly dressed teenage girl sitting at his table. She was still listening, her eyes locked into is as she waited for him to continue. The man couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't been startled by the spheres of light constantly glittering around him. All the ones who had seen them before her had freaked out.

“So essentially,” she finally said, breaking the short silence, “You hadn't selected the right dose for the spice before tasting it, the stress of your situation made you act more recklessly, and you tasted it anyway?”

“Y-Yeah,” the man confirmed, nodding. “Then it kinda… hurt my throat a lot, I coughed, jerked my hand and… poured the rest of the mixture down my throat. I was alone in the kitchen, and there was no way I could move or call for help. So yeah. That's how I… passed out. And when I woke up, I was still in the kitchen, but everybody was ignoring me. I kept asking if I could at least finish my dish, but… they just… they just kept ignoring me. I think my boss saw me once, but like… he didn't really believe it. Kinda weird, right?”

The girl took a sip of her tea, before crossing her hands on her chin. “Say the word,” she asked.

“I… I beg you pardon?”

The girl smiled at him tenderly, and suddenly the man found himself unable to guess her exact age. “Say the word,” she repeated. “Trust me. You'll feel better after accepting the fact. But you need to do it yourself before I can do anything for you.”

“Do… Do something for me? You mean, like… You can make people stop ignoring me?”

“No. Or at least, not for a long time. However,” she added, her smile growing larger, “I can let you finish your work, and even present it to your boss.”

The man slammed his hands on the table and sprung up, eyes sparkling with energy. “This better not be a joke,” he asked shakily. “Please. Please tell me you're joking.”

“Sit down,” she ordered tranquilly. “Sit down and say it. Then you'll know if I'm joking or not.”

“Say what?! What do you want me to –”

“Joseph,” she interrupted. “You're an ex-Master Class Chef of the closed Palladium Restaurant line, and you possess talent, skill and experience in your craft. You of all people should know that pouring a powerfully spicy mixture such as yours down someone's throat does much worse than just make someone pass out.”

She glared at Joseph and watched as he slowly and carefully sat back on his bench, a gloomy expression taking over his previously bright face.

“...You're… you're right,” he whispered slowly. “My “Triple S” is a really strong spice. Too much of it means… It means death. I choked, and I… I… I died.”

Another enigmatic smile found its way on the girl's lips. It seemed like it wasn't the first time she was hearing such words. “You died before being able to finish what you sought,” she said gravely. “And here you are, a remnant of your former self, driven only by the purpose of finishing his job. Say no more, Joseph – your will speaks for itself. I can grant you your wish, provided you do something for me in return.”

With that, the girl drank the rest of her tea and rose up as the cold breeze of the night blew on her crimson dress. She took one of the strange pots hooked into her belt and put in on the table. It suddenly expanded, turning into a green pot decorated with sapphire blue stripes. The pot also had red eyes, pulpy red lips, and was showing off a horrid, yellow teeth-filled grin. Putting her hand inside of the pot, the girl pulled out a small pocket watch.

“This item will grant you a temporary human state,” the girl said. “As a human, you'll be able to finish your task, but it's up to you to bring it back to your boss.” She glanced at the watch and gave it to a gleaming Joseph. She fumbled through her pockets and put a small jewel on the table, where the waiter could see it.

“Are… Are you really going to pay with that?” Joseph couldn't help but ask.

“I'm sorry,” the girl continued quickly, “but I must go. “I have an important mission I need to fulfill as well. But know that it was nice talking to you,” she added, smiling one last time towards the ghostly being.

“Wait!” he called as she left into the night. “Why are you helping me? I don't even know your name!”

The girl performed a turnabout, put a hand to her hat and bowed gracefully. “You will know my name soon enough, for we will meet again, Joseph, and I will explain everything then.” she assured. “For now, I merely want for you to complete your life's work. 'Til we meet again, and may Fortune stay by your side.”



“You are such a show off, it's almost hilarious!”

“I was merely helping yet another Genii in need. There is nothing to be mocked about that! Now be quiet, and follow. We have a schedule to keep.”

“And a party to crash!”

Paggya let a tiny smile grow on her lips as Gurivoj, the green-colored Guardian Sprite of her Pot of Cupidity, floated around her. As much as she hated to admit it, she fully shared the excitement of her familiar. After long years of countless persecutions, battles, hostage situations, wars, thefts and chases, Paggya would finally be able to use her powers for a cause that was much above such trivial matters. The Netherworld had many facets, but most of them usually included some form of battle that Paggya did not crave for. Unless it involved getting some sort of material items, of course.
“No,” she thought, banishing her Greed side from her mind. “You won't distract me again. I am here to become a Goddess of An. And nothing will prevent me from achievement that goal. Nothing. Not even my upbringing.”
With that in mind, Paggya kept on walking on the streets of New York, unaffected by the numerous looks people threw at her fancy clothing and the cold wind that occasionally assaulted her smooth face. Paggya's attention was completely focused on tall skyscraper resting in Lexington Avenue. It was illuminated in the night sky, showing off a peculiar terraced crown at its top.

“Is that the thing we're supposed to infiltrate?” Gurivoj exclaimed, contemplating the structure. “Looks kinda… imposing. I totally want it!”

“The Chrysler Building is barely ever opened to the public anymore,” Paggya explained to the familiar. “Many of its internal elements have been closed as well, preventing most people from accessing them. According to the information I've gathered, Father placed a special gate located in the 71th floor, where a public observatory used to be accessible to… well, the public. We can use it to access An and participate in the Heaven's Parade, though knowing Father, he probably left a Guardian Genii for us to confront. He always enjoyed testing the family's might whenever he could.”

“So basically, we beat up a random guy and take a shortcut to a place that Greed itself is forbidden to go to? And without him knowing why we're actually here? Talk about daring!”

“I have to be daring if I want to become a Deity,” Paggya replied, eye glittering with passion. “I grow tired of my family's sins, and will put an end to them. Permanently, if I must.”

“Huh. Well that sounds pretty noble! So, uhh, what's the title you're gonna get, Miss Future Deity girl?”

“Since you accuse me of liking to “show off,”” Paggya said, smirking, “how about you wait until I present myself to my public and announce my ambitions to them, mm?”

“Now that's just plain mean.”

“You would never stay by my side if I was too nice. Now focus!”

Reaching the base of the Chrysler Building, Paggya scanned the area. Seeing as the left side of the building was completely unguarded, she took the Pot of Cupidity from her belt and it expanded on the ground. “Guriv,” she commanded, “put on the usual barrier. I don't want any humans to see us as we climb through the 71th floor.”

“Aye aye, m'Lady!”

“I hereby discard my Greed for thee to savor it,” Paggya intoned. “Come forth, and become its very avatar!”

As Gurivoj created an invisible dome of light around his mistress, a new figure materialized itself at her feet, kneeling respectfully. It was a tall, headless, muscular green body with a shiny blue loin cloth wrapped round the hips as its sole clothing.

“Rise, Greedjinn,” Paggya commanded. “I need you to carry me all the way up to the 71th floor of this skyscraper. You're up to the task, aren't you?”

She hadn't finished her sentence that Greedjinn was already alternating poses, his amazing physique shining along with the moonlight as he moved around in a foolish attempt to impress his unfazed mistress.

“Djinni,” she began with a sigh, “Your body is amazing – only a fool would deny that obvious fact – but please. I need you to focus. This may be my most important mission yet. No failures are allowed.”

The summoned familiar froze in place and immediately knelt down again, waiting for Paggya. She shrunk the Pot of Cupidity and put it back on her belt before climbing on her servant's back, bracing herself for his next move. And the very second she did so, Greedjinn took off the ground, performing an amazing jump that propelled him all the way up to the 33th floor. Then, using only his bare hands, Greedjinn kept on climbing on the thick wall of the Chrysler Building with ease, as if it was a mere ladder. His pace was fast and regular, and the cold air did not bother him at all. Neither did it bother Paggya, who had been used to these type of trips for years. And it was for that very reason that she was focusing on hanging on as well as she could.
After several minutes, Paggya told her familiar to stop his ascension and smash the window next to their position.

“We're here,” Paggya whispered once inside. “Good job, Djinni. Guriv?”

“Still here!”

“I'll have to use another pot to repair the damage caused to the building. Go get some rest, and fetch me Vermeroj.”

“Aye aye, m'Lady!”

With that, the little sprite disappeared, soon replaced by a perfectly similar one – with the exception of its spectral skin's color, which was red instead of green.

“Yo, m'Lady!” Vermeroj exclaimed, saluting his mistress. “Wassup?”

“Vermee, I need you to stay outside and repair the damage Djinni caused to the wall. We wouldn't want the Humans asking themselves some questions tomorrow.”

“That muscle-head's at it again, huh?” the sprite commented, gazing at Greedjinn with a disapproving gaze. “Methinks I'd act MUCH more responsibly with a body like that. You really shouldn't–”

“Vermee, please. We've been over this.”

“Fine. I'll be outside, then. Repairing stupid damage made by a stupid walkin' body at the cost of my own stamina. Yippee.”

With that, the sprite left the building. Paggya turned around and began inspecting the area, Greedjinn still by her side. The walls were covered with a celestial-themed wallpaper, and several planets were even hanging from the ceiling. There was an abandoned piano placed on Paggya's left, while two large velvet chairs rested at the edge of the room. It took Paggya several seconds and the distant sound of a restrained giggle to understand that one of them was already occupied.

“Oh... my... gosh!” the shadow exclaimed, letting out a happy laughter. “I didn't expect any visitors at all tonight, and I sure as heck didn't expect them to be so freakin' entertaining! Ah well, guess I'm easily amused.”

The figure rose from its chair, advancing in the moonlight. To Paggya's surprise, the manly yet slightly childish voice that had arose belonged to a much more effeminate body. Shaped like a seventeen years old teenager, the slim Genii gracefully walking towards her had long, dark green hair cascading down the lower back. He was barefooted, wearing a plain black long-sleeved shirt with dark blue jeans surmounted by a ruby red belt.

“I am glad that you find my familiars to your liking, Guardian,” Paggya replied calmly. “However, I'm afraid that you will not find my next actions as amusing as they are.”

The Guardian Genii tilted his head, a bright smile making its way on his face. “Oh? And why's that, cutie pie?”

“Because – and as much as it saddens me to say this – I've come here to take the secret entrance to An that you are supposed to guard. Therefore, I must defeat you in order to pass.”

The Guardian nodded. “Yup. That's right. And it saddens you because you know exactly what happens to me if I lose, right?”

“It's... It's not just that,” she said, a sad gleam enlightening her eye. “I've been helping Geniis such as yourself for decades. I... I do not wish to harm you, Guardian, but I must do so in order to fulfill my wish. I am sorry.”

“Gosh, you are a cutie. Nothing like your father, that's for sure! But don't worry, he warned me about your possible arrival, so allow me to make this more... “official”, so to speak. Hold on a sec.”

The Guardian raised a hand in the air and opened his palm. Giant flames began spiraling around his body before dying down as abruptly as they had come. Next to the Guardian's left leg now rested a leather scabbard, inside of which Paggya could see the handle of a sword. A surreal red light surrounded him, sign that his abilities had awoken.

“I am Novayon Nadight,” the Guardian declared, “entitled Genii of Duels by Harpaggyon, Fallen Deity and current Dalkhu Lord of Greed. To uphold and honor my status, I shall now challenge you to a battle. Should you lose, the ancient magic that roams in this sacred place shall prevent you from entering again, unless my or Harpaggyon's consent is given. These are my terms.”

Having fought in many duels before, Paggya's aura was immediately triggered in response to Novayon's, surrounding her with a ghostly violet light.
“There is no place for pity or compassion in this fight,” she thought bitterly. “Which means that if I want to win, I need to rely on my... other mindset...”

Paggya focused her gaze on her opponent's weapon, detailing the wing-like silver shape of its handle, the magnificently bright green jewel place at the pommel...
“...I want it... I want it... I… I absolutely need this sword.”
“I am Paggya Davariss,” Paggya declared as shades of black appeared along with the purple of her aura. “I am the daughter of Harpaggyon Greed and Mariane Flechla, and a proud member of the Greed Family. To uphold and honor my status, I shall now accept your challenge and terms. However,” she added with a dastardly grin, “allow me to add terms of my own in this fancy gamble of ours. Should you lose this duel, Novayon... I shall take away your sword, and inherit of every single power it holds. These are my terms!”

Novayon unleashed his happy laugh once more, not at all concerned by the menacing tone Paggya had taken. “And now I remember who your father is. But please, call me Nova! I'm pretty darn sure we'll be battle buddies after this, so, I'd rather have you remember as a nice guy, 'kay?”

“'Kay!” she replied joyfully. “But I'm only calling you Nova if you call me Pag or Paggy. Since I'm totally gonna take that sword away from you, I'd better get friendly with its owner first, don't you think? Does it have a name, by the way?”

“I'll go with Paggy, and yes, it has a name. But I'm only giving it away if you beat me, deal?”

“Deal! And since you were kind enough to show me some of your magic, Nova, allow me to return the favor!” Paggya's smile grew larger. “...Fivefold.”

She hastily took five pots from her belt and threw them in the air. They all grew in size and fell on the ground. At the same time, she pulled out a spoon from her pocket, which also expanded, now having the proportions of Novayon's sword.
With the giant Pots behind her, the headless bodybuilder on her left, the giant spoon in her hand, the surreal purple aura around her and the moon's eye gleaming over the scene, Paggya gave the impression that a devilish witch had taken her place, and she was fully enjoying the moment.

“Wow,” Novayon whispered, impressed by the change of character. “So that's what the Greed Trigger does to someone, huh. Kinda scary. One last thing, before we begin. Is it still you I'm gonna fight, Paggy? Or a version of yourself that's controlled by Harpaggyon's greed?”

Paggya locked her gaze into Novayon's, and they stared at each other for several seconds. “No,” she answered in a solemn tone. “I'm still Paggy. And no matter what Greed does to me, I'll always be Paggy. But right now, all that Paggy wants is your defeat, and your sword. So... En garde, Nova!”

“Hmm. That's all I needed to hear,” Novayon exclaimed with a grin. “Let's dance!”

With an explosive blaze, Novayon rushed at Paggya's encounter, leaving a trail of fiery sparks as he passed.

Sophia Vinami - The First cut is always the deepest

"You know why I have to go to An."

The clock of Grand Central Station indicated that it was 11:29 as Sophia and one of her three Genii servants slowly made their way into this historical building. As usual at this time of night, the station was rather "quiet", with only about two dozen people making their to and from the underground subway.

"Yes, yes, the Heaven Parade, I know," Kalos, a tall Genii with long flowing hair, said. "What I don't get is why you have to use this unconventional method of entering An."

"You know I have always been fond of Grand Central, Kalos," Sophia said, "and I do enjoy taking an unconventional approach to everything."

An old man carrying a wrapped parcel shuffled passed Sophia, mumbling to himself about the heat outside, despite it being winter.

"What about all these humans? Don't you think they'd notice if you opened the gate?"

"I have it covered. After all, most of them are so tired after a day's hard work that they won't care to look up and see what's happening to their precious ceiling."

Several feet above Sophia was the magnificent ceiling fresco depicting the astrological zodiac of the humans, meaningless to many subway users, but in fact containing extreme magic.

Sophia and Kalos went to sit on one of the benches while they waited for most of the people to either enter the underground maze of subways, or leave the building.

"So, how are you going to open it?" Kalos asked as the time neared 11:38.

"As you can see, I am a little busy here," Sophia said, her eyes fixed on her notebook, drawing the ceiling fresco perfectly with her silver fountain pen.

A shout suddenly echoed through the station as a terrified woman came running in from outside. Several other people followed shortly after, many looking around before sprinting down to the subways.

"Something's not right." Kalos said, standing up and summoning his elegantly crafted bow with a flash of umber magic.

"What gave you that impression?" Sophia said, closing her notebook yet remaining seated.

From outside, sirens could be heard, as well as more screams and an explosion. Sophia could faintly here a policeman shouting through a megaphone at something, the only distinguishable words being "put the taxi down".

"Kalos, go see what's happening out there," Sophia clenched her notebook in one hand and stood up, slowly walking towards the center of the station as Kalos blinked away. He returned almost immediately, his eyes saying more than enough.

Dalkhu.

"What on earth is a dalkhu doing here, in it's natural form?!" Sophia asked. "This can't be a coincidence!"

"I don't kn..." Kalos was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass as a taxi came flying the front window of Grand Central station straight at Sophia.

Opening her notebook in a flash, Sophia drew an image of the taxi, and then with a flash of emerald green magic she changed the actual taxi into a page, harmlessly floating down in front of her.

From outside, gunfire could be heard, as well as the distinct growling voice of a feral dalkhu behemoth. Flames illuminated the street outside, with several more people (many on fire) running into the station.

"Kalos! Distract that behemoth! I'll help these people on fire!" Sophia pointed her silver pen at the sprayers in the station, activating them all instantly to extinguish the flames quickly. She ran over to the closest humans and helped them to nearby benches where she carefully laid them down before drawing a rune of dreams on their foreheads to make them fall asleep, and hopefully making them think this was all but a nightmare.

Just then, the old man from before entered the station again, seemingly oblivious of the fire, behemoth and police outside.

"Sir! Sir! Watch out!" Sophia said, running towards him, looking around for a way her magic could protect if another taxi were to fly through the front door. However, the old man seemed deaf as well, as he continued at his slow, shuffling pace.

Outside she could see the behemoth flinging police like a child in a pile of autumn leaves, Kalos shooting arrows at it from a nearby building. The behemoth's large bronze-colored hide showed a few minor wounds, but was streaming fire and embers from the larger wounds. It was speaking in Deep Dalkhu, the language of the Netherworld.

"Petty humans!" it growled, "I am the familiar of Ancanir, dalkhu lord of conflagration! I am but a harbinger of what is to come!"

"That does not sound good," Sophia said, coming up to the old man, and placing her hands on his shoulders. However, where she expected to feel a frail, weak body of a man in his seventies, she felt the muscular build of a man in his twenties.

The old man suddenly looked up at her, eyes burning as red as the flames outside. "I would've taken the conventional entrance to An, dearie," he said, "You gods are all so predictable."

With that, he shot out his arms, shouting an ancient spell which knocked Sophia back, hitting her head against an abandoned coffee stand, sending sugar across the wet floor.

The behemoth burst through the entrance, blasting a torrent of flame at the subway police who had finally started running up into the Station. Kalos came charging in after the beast, shooting his magical arrows at its back.

Sophia searched around for her silver pen, a throbbing pain in the back of her head. It was lying half submerged in the sugar and coffee. As she reached for it though, the sugar caramelized and hardened around the pen.

"Oh no dearie, I can't have you get your precious little pen and turn my familiar into a piñata, now can I?" said the old man, no longer shuffling and walking proud and arrogantly. "After all, I don't want the Parade to miss out on his... Entertaining performance."

"Ancanir," Sophia said, scuffling away from the dalkhu lord before fluidly jumping up, "I should've known you would try and escape the Netherworld and wreak havoc on the human and heavenly planes when you got the chance." She grabbed into her shoulder pack (which managed to stay on her shoulder somehow) and drew out a book with a knight on the cover.

"A book? What are you going to do? Read a dalkhu to death?" Ancanir said, laughing maliciously.

"You seem to have forgotten who I am," Sophia said, opening in the middle of the book, placing her had there and drawing out a sword that looked identical to the sword of the knight on the cover. "I have many tricks up my sleeves."

"Bravo. But I don't think this is a fair fight." With that Ancanir shot his one arm out towards the behemoth, absorbing him until the dalkhu lord's skin glowed like a fierce inferno before subsiding. From his waist he drew an elegant sword with a serrated edge. "Call off your precious Genii slave and fight me- magic versus magic."

Kalos, who had come to Sophia's side, looked at her determined. "Don't listen to this... This monster, milady," he said, "He's trying to trick you."

"Monster hey?" Ancanir pointed his sword at Kalos, "You haven't seen the monster yet."

Suddenly, Ancanir swept his blade, muttering a spell just as the blade hit the Genii, causing the latter to cry in pain before vanishing.

"You know what they say: the first cut is always the deepest." Ancanir said, turning on Sophia.

"On guard then, Ancanir."

The clashing of magical swords rang through the Station as the two beings dueled. Both were expert fighters, and got several nips and jabs in. They continued for a few moments, until Sophia lost her balance on a window frame fragment, falling down and losing her grip on her sword.

"Well, it seems I'll be using your blood to prepare for my little secret," Ancanir said, walking over, swirling his sword around in his hand.

"What secret? What are you hiding?" Sophia asked, confused, "If you are going to kill me anyway to get my blood, tell me what it is."

"And have you foiling our plan once you reincarnate?"

"You know perfectly well that dalkhu magic can keep a god's soul suspended. Tell me, so I can die with the knowledge of why I died."

"Oh alright," Ancanir said, standing nearly over Sophia now with his sword ready, "The dalkhu are planning to..."

The dalkhu lord stopped midsentence as a loud crack came from his chest as his sternum broke. There, like some sick unicorn horn, stuck a short blade, smoking with Ancanir's boiling blood. His eyes started turning from arrogance to fear, as he slowly fell to the ground, muttering his final words before turning to bronze ash.

Sophia stood up, and turned to see where the blade came from. There, in between rubble and glass, stood a figure she knew all too well.

Her brother, Allagi Vinami...

Myzanke awoke to the sound of rebellion.

The light of an lit up the pure white room, illuminating sheets and reflecting off the mirror that stood in the far corner. Calming rays danced on every wall, signalling daybreak. Myza sat up and pulled her thin sheets around her body, slowly lowering her legs to the cool marble floor. Her feet slipped into delicate, lightweight sandals that lay by her bed. The rotten stink of the nether world was already finding its way into the room as she rushed towards the door, almost tripping in her panic. As she passed, Myza dropped the sheets, picked up a light sword and burst into her large hallway.

Great white pillars stood in parallel lines on opposite walls, crumbling slightly. The marble floor continued here, veined with grey and gold. Myza cautiously glanced around the hallway. Only silence echoed through the open space, dust particles spinning like tiny tornadoes visible in the beams of young light. The space was empty, empty in the sense that a void of nothingness lay there. Myza’s hands tightened around her sword.

As she ventured further into the hall, examining every inch of space, she saw a silhouette passing in front of the large arched window. The fresh golden light made it hard to make out the shape, but it was clear enough. A distinctly humanoid creature was stood facing the window, staring out into the open expanse of an that was akin to a rural neighbourhood. Myza’s stomach lurched. The creature carried that suffocating aura of one who was of the nether world. Her home was secure and guarded - how was it possible that a dalkhu could enter?

“Knocking is polite,” she said.

Myza began to prowl closer, bringing her sword to a level at which she was ready to swing at any moment. The silhouette didn’t move and Myza wasn’t prepared to exchange words. She would give them a little time to make a decision in the face of her blade. After that, she would not hesitate to remove them from her home herself.

“Knocking is optional,” replied the dalkhu-genii.

Myza was a few metres away from her target. Her dark eyes narrowed, lips thinning. She stalked a few steps forward, white nightdress swirling around her knees like foam on the waves. A sudden wave of a strong, rotting stench physically knocked her back, clouding her head. She lay on the marble floor, choking and gagging.

“Surely you saw this coming, dear Myza,” the dalkhu-genii continued. “Surely you knew that we’d grow tired of being imprisoned and rise up against you creatures of an.”

The dalkhu-genii turned around. His silhouette was lit up from behind, outlined with gold. Myza looked up into his eyes and sank. She could see herself in his eyes, though her imprint was faded and corrupted, like a tapestry torn in half. She knew the genii as one of her own - Tullo. He was only a boy, and yet he had the face of one who had seen hundreds of years pass before their eyes.

“Tullo, listen to me-”

“We’ve spent years listening to you and your me,” Tullo spat, settling his hand under Myza’s chin. His fair hair fell in front of his eyes, hiding his dead gaze. “I think it’s time you listened to us.”



Myzanke stood silently on the train.

Outside, there was only darkness. The train rattled through the tunnels underground like a burrowing beast. People were everywhere, some with nothing, some with what looked like everything they owned. A couple carrying a suitcase conversed quietly in German as they stared at their map. Two men in suits discussed the cold weather. Occasionally, a light or two inside the tunnels would flash past the windows, giving the illusion that they were in the midst of a thunderstorm. It was all so strange, but what was strangest of all was how disconnected Myza felt from it all.

She was a god, a god of honesty. Not many people noticed her, regarding her as another passerby. She didn’t want to stick out; most gods didn’t. It was a bad idea to stand out from the crowd now, with dalkhu running loose and even worse, dalkhu-gods and -genii targeting those of an who were partial to wandering without weapons. There was danger on the streets where there hadn’t been, and not even an was truly safe. The Parade had brought attention to an and dalkhu were making use of the opportunity to break through the gates of Kadingir. Myza could feel the looming, oppressive aura of the nether world’s prisoners.

However, this didn’t explain why Myza felt suddenly disjointed, like a picture with a piece missing.

Myza had been residing in New York City for a few weeks. She was completely new to the culture, unacquainted with the friendly atmosphere and the cold weather. Staffordshire had been cold in the winter, but no-one had warned her to bring gloves. Myza absent-mindedly rubbed her thin hands in vain - her hands were always cold, no matter where she was. She realised in her thoughtful state that she had never travelled to America. She had never really needed to - her most powerful time was the Dark Ages, and in recent years her power had fallen into decline. That forced her to return to an and sleep, like many of the gods had done. But she was not travelling in search of followers - she was travelling to the Parade.

The train slowed to a halt and the doors opened with a hiss, releasing the passengers in the carriage she stood in. Myza passed through the doors with the crowd and relished the sudden breath of cool air - the air in the train had been unpleasantly stale. But with the breeze came a certain scent. Myza’s shoulders tensed.

Dalkhu.

The last time Myza had seen a dalkhu was before she had arrived at the last station. It was cat-like, icy and brittle. As she walked past it had scrambled under a parked car in fear. It could smell an - true dalkhu avoided an, but those who were formerly celestial beings were attracted to it like moths around a lightbulb. The dalkhu in question had been a rogue, not a problem for an armed god. Myza had dispatched it without trouble and moved on quickly. However, dalkhu-gods and dalkhu-genii were a different story and Myza sincerely hoped that whatever was in the station was not formerly of an.

There was a lot of noise coming from the station. People were frozen in shock and confusion, some walking away and blissfully ignorant. Magic hummed around the crowds and although it was a weak feeling, Myza could tell it was god magic. It held the power of an in its truest form, unaffected by human life and nether world rot. The barely tolerable smell was stronger here, almost coppery with strength. Then, not so far ahead, Myza spotted the source and realised that she was, regrettably, unarmed.

Myza could see the commotion unfolding - there stood a god, one she didn't recognise, after attempting to fight a dalkhu. Rubble lay around the scene, shattered glass and bricks and the occasional tiny pile of ash. As Myza approached she saw someone she really, really didn't need to see. A dalkhu-god, armed and ready. However, she noticed something odd - his blade bore the blood of the nether world.

Myza sucked in a breath and began to run, pulling off her ballet pumps in the process. She skidded past the god and dalkhu-god, standing a little away from them as she thrust a palm into the air and drew an invisible line with her outstretched fingers, a vertical line from directly above her to shoulder level. The darkest areas of the station became darker, peeling themselves from under staircases and behind signs, forming wolves and bears and hawks. Myza's hand began to glow as a bow materialised in it. She pulled the string back as soon as it formed, waiting for an arrow to appear between string and shelf. "In need of assistance?" she called to the other god. "You have attracted an audience, unfortunately."

Jaye walked leisurely through the bustling streets of Manhattan. The sun barely stayed above the horizon, as if struggling against the pulls of night. It painted the clouds a deep orange and the sky around them a clash of dark purple and shining yellow. Jaye hated this time of day. It got the two confused, day and night. It mixed them into a disgusting slur of dark and light that went on forever. But night always won in the end. The thought put a small grin on his face. Soon the quiet solitude of the dark would envelope the world. The night would give way to the cat slowly slinking across the shady street. It would give way to the janitor slowly working his way across the block, or the cop making nightly rounds throughout the city. Yes the night would soon be upon them, and Jaye could not wait.

''Hold it kid.''

Jaye nearly laughed out loud at that remark. Humans could be terribly mistaken sometimes. Two kids maybe twenty stood in front of him, one packed a gun in his coat pocket, the other hid a knife.

''This way kid.'' The one in the coat started towards a alley between two buildings to his life. Once there they both turned to face him. Jay looked between the two of them.

''Doesn't this seem very terribly old fashioned to you?''

The men looked between each other, then shrugged.

''Does it matter? Now give us your wallet or I might have to use this thing.'' The kid flicked his knife around. Jaye took a breath.

''Have any of you known fear in your lives?''

the kids exchanged glances.

''Just give us your fucking wallet.''

Jaye locked eyes with them.

''The next time you cross me, you will have reason to fear.''

Jaye tapped into both of the kids's minds, bringing up their worst fears, then amplifying them. His eyes turned pitch black and black fire licked around his form. Both of the kids in front of him grew as pale as corpses, their eyes turned pitch black. Sweat mingled with the tears pouring down their faces and after a second or so, they both fell to the floor, shivering and occasionally moaning in agony. Jaye looked at them once more. He could leave them here. He didn't care if the cops found them. What would they go off of? No, to Jaye this was just a small blip in time. An agonizingly small moment that would soon be forgotten. Just like the human race. Just another civilization that would soon fall and be replaced. A never ending cycle of destruction that wouldn't stop until the sun exploded or a meteor hit, killing all the 'new and improved races' just like it did the dinosaurs. The irony made him grin as he reached Grand Central Station. It lay in ruins, cars upturned and smoking, fires spreading across the building. At the center of the street leading to the station, two figures stood over a mound of ash and fire.

''Hello Sophia.''

Sophia and the man next to her spun around, one reaching for his sword, the other preparing her book.

''By the power invested in me I order you to return to the nether realm. You are trespassing.''

''Is it trespassing if I've never left? Tell me, Guardian of Knowledge, has fear ever gone away? Does it not reside in the people of this world? Does it not reside in you?''

''Whether fear has gone or not, the rules still apply. Leave, Dalkhu.''

''I will return. If you answer my question.''

''What question?''

Jaye's eyes locked with hers.

''What constitutes a dalkhu?''

''The moment when a deity breaks the rules set by the me and thus breaks the me.''

''What if the me was already broken?''

Sophia looked taken aback.

''I'm sorry?''

''Can a god of fear do good without breaking the me? Is it within his parameters to commit, after watching bloodshed after bloodshed, innocent death after innocent death, countless centuries of destruction repeating in an endless cycle for eternity, do something to stop that cycle. Do something to introduce hope, or light, or knowledge into the world? Is it so wrong for a god of fear to show love?

Sophia said nothing.

Jaye took one last look around at the burning street, then looked at Sophia, then turned and walked away as the goddess of honesty rushed onto the scene, bow in hand.

Benji | Somewhere in Manhattan

Benji strolled down the street, Listening to Tempo as it played his favorite song. Or at least he tried to walk, his feet floated just a wee bit above the ground, cackling maniacally at his slight annoyance.

At least he liked to think they did.

Benji didn't much care for being a ghost. He couldn't talk, he floated everywhere, no one could see him, he couldn't talk, things tended to pass through him, he couldn't talk.

Benji really liked talking.

He rounded a corner, wandering aimlessly. Benji hoped he was headed towards the docks. he liked the docks but only at night. They were to noisy in the day and he kept having to pull the Fire Alarm to get everyone out. The Fire Alarm was hilarious yes, but it's droning siren tended to attract other spirits.

Benji didn't like other spirits.

They talked to much, they always tagged along even when you didn't want them to, and they always wanted to show you their gadgets. Benji always ended up holding down the Fire Alarm until they went away.

A car whizzed through him. Benji jumped a foot in the air, then hurled profanities at the rapidly receding vehicle. What was more annoying than having a solid object pass through you? Benji could only think of a few things and one of them involved Dalkhu.

Dalhku generally tended to be twats.

Pushing thoughts of demons out of his head, Benji glanced up at the sky, using his fingers to judge the time before the sun set. He managed to fit two fingers below the sun.

Twenty minutes it was then. A perfect amount of time.

Benji clicked Tempo off as his song ended. Ninety percent of the time the little device cranked out country music. Not that Benji had anything against country music, well he did because he hated it and thought it sucked but then again Benji was a ghost, and ghost's opinions didn't count for much anyway.

Sunset found Benji sitting at the edge of the docks. He always sat in the corner. He hated sitting in the corner. One day Benji wished to sit in the open, in the middle of the docks, so he could watch the sunset. But every time he tried his gut would twist up in knots and he would stand there, gasping for breath.

In short it felt like he was being ripped in two.

So for now he let himself hate the corner, forever glaring angrily at that spot in the fading sunlight.

Benji let himself fall back against the familiar old wooden planks. He gazed up at the clouds as they lazily drifted overhead, and thought to himself.

It wasn't exactly painful to think of her. In fact it always bought smile to his face. Benji's first thoughts were always her face. Her smile. he liked to think she was smiling back at him. Those thoughts made him despise being a ghost all the more.

She was dead.

That was always his second thought and it took the smile clean off his face. Why'd she have to be dead? He'd tried looking for her. Even calling in favors from a couple gods. None of them had seen a ghost of that description.

She wasn't dead.

Benji had eventually run out of favors. He still looked for her but Manhattan alone was to large for him and if she happened to appear elsewhere the chances of him finding her were none.

Was she dead?

Benji shivered, and pushed his doubt back. The dock was a place of tranquility for him and he wouldn't let his own thoughts ruin that. Benji spent the night on the docks as he always did, gazing forlornly at the ever drifting clouds.

And all night he wished he could float away with them, to stand in the middle of the dock and disappear into the sky.

He wished. Wished until morning came again and it was time, as it always was, to leave.

Vaile — Prologue: Pessimistic?

Nobody could prove that god exists. For god to exist, we just simply believe it to exist. That is our creative imagination ever. What about ghosts? And what about vampire, werewolf, magician, witch, angels, and so forth? Humans like to imagine and believe it. He wouldn't believe all of them... Until one day that changes everything.

Parents have a vital role in forming their child. If they are religious, and so may the child might be. It simply is an unfair world that most of our fates are carved in stones since our birth. If we were born in Japan, we would know Japanese and our tongue will hard to pronounce the silly vowels in English. Who to blame? God? Absolutely, but do we simply believe foolish and gibberish thing as god to put our blames on. Humans are cruel.

Hades Vaile preferred to be called with his second name, Vaile. Hades is okay, but people will just make fun of it because of our great books and movies, Percy Jackson. Most teenagers today wouldn't know Hades if the stupid books didn't exist. So, he just put a smile whenever people call him that name sarcastically.

He didn't want to admit that paranormal is actually real: He always experienced it. What is exactly "it"? He always saw something extraordinary, one's death. He just pretended it to be normal. He knew exactly how to put his mask. People almost never see him mad or sad, but always happy and normal, unbiased.

His parents were weirder. Somehow, they were always confined Vaile in various extracurricular activities. Not he did care. He'd love them. New things excited him. Normal new things to be exact. After 17 years of being trapped in his family's cage, out of blue, he told them that he wanted to eat freedom. He was bored that his freedom always tainted in front of him: His friends as examples: They are free to go whatever they wanted: To their friend's house or anywhere, their parents just don't really care about them.

Should he be grateful: To know how to throw knifes; to know how to use rapiers and swords; to know how to play music instruments; to know how to paint like a pro. His future had been cleared. He had passed life before he could notice it. But all he know was he couldn't taste life. Life just went running away from him.

All he had to be grateful was his precious friend. Yes, friend. One person. This diamond was known as James. He had been with him since childhood. Say whatever you wanted, gay or homosexual, they weren't like that. They are confined children... James was always with him whatever his activities were because if he weren't there, Vaile wouldn't survive. Vaile was barely survived his youth, the most dangerous time of being a human.

This miracle one day happened when both of them were in a local library two years ago. A document titled, "GENII, THE LAND OF THE GODS". Being all capitalized, they knew it was an important book. They searched for its author and anything related to it in the Internet. They just found a single link. Not more, not less. The internet was weird too. When James pushed the "ENTER" button on the Google, it was lagged...for an hour. It felt like someone, some god, controlling it. He didn't give up though. They found about Heaven Parade. Not they know what it meant though.

Google never spreads lies to people, but people spread lies to Google. Poor little Google.

James believed in paranormal things. This was why both of them researching hard about this Land of The God. With a permission from a weird-looking and four-eyes librarian, they managed to confiscate the book. Every midnight, they'd go to Vaile's house, spending time researching 'bout the mysterious Genii. Every results ended up quite blurry: Dalkhu, Genii, Deities, Enlil, Kadingir, and so forth. They knew a little about them. This problem leaded them the to the librarian again.

***2 Years Ago***

It was raining outside. Every drops fell onto the library windows like bullets. James and Vaile were drenched wet.

"An umbrella wasn't enough... Luckily my sweater is bullet-proof." Vaile put his heavy bag on their usual table which was at the narrowest section of the library.

"Are you serious?" James closed the umbrella and threw it into an umbrella basket. "I mean, about the bulletproof?"

"Aye. Let's go ask her first. We are short of time here. Besides, she is weird and she got this gloomy signs around her."

"You're just being pessimistic. It will only make you older." He took his Nescafe can and offered it to Vaile.

"No, thanks. Coffee makes me sleepy." Both of them sat down on their usual seats. "I've never understand 'bout the coffee gives you energy. It is just a matter of believe. If you believe that coffee makes you brimmed with energy, so is Milo."

The library was old, but the librarian wasn't. They did asked her age. And the answer was, "I was 21 years old. I think I'm about 821 years old now." They didn't really believe her. James said that she was just crazy. The scent of the old books made this library their favorite location to hang out. Nobody was really visited it and it was surprisingly well-maintained.

"You make me looked like a fool..." James laid down the can. "Shall we ask her?"

Vaile narrowed his eyes. "I was just talking, not making and I was waiting for your answer and yet, you questioned me." He sighed and both of them stood up and walked to the counter. "This is, I believe, another dangerous effect of coffee. A gulp makes you forget everything. And being pessimistic is necessary."

"I guess I couldn't fight back..."

"Man is what he believes, remember."

The librarian greeted them as usual with some eerie smiles that happened to always attract James's attention. "What do we have here?"

"We do have some questions to ask," Vaile spoke up, "Remember the ancient book we wanted to borrow. Here is it."

"And?" She raise her eyebrows, "Did you find it interesting?"

Vaile nodded to her question and James seemed to be penetrated by her voice. "Rather, we find it as mysterious rather than interesting."

"I bet the questions are all about the book, aye?"

"Yes. Firstly, we want to know more about the Deity and Dalkhu and their assistance, Genii mentioned in this book. It even listed out their names, but not the Genii. And what I presume as weird for this book is, the lists seemed to get bigger."

"You involved yourselves with uncanny business, y'know." She let down a small sigh. "Not that I care for... Follow me to the downstairs."

"Downstairs?" James shocked.

She turned around and pulled out a bookcase and stairs seemed to appear that leaded to the basement. Marveled by her strength, they just entered the counter and followed her down. It was something they never saw before; they seemed to notice that with each steps, dusts started filling the air, making them coughed.

"It is surely old. No wonder about the age of this library: 1489 years old!" Vaile let out another cough.

"Sorry about the dusts. I was very certain that I wouldn't have to got down again, but it seemed like I really need to do some cleaning." At the end of the bottomless staircases, she opened a door and plucked a switch. "Take anything you needed. My master's dead anyway... But my master would be happy that his books are being read again. I will leave you now. Happy hunting."

"Thanks." Vaile wiped the dusts over the nearby table and put his files and books there. "Another question! Can we stay overnight?"

"I will always be here. Don't worry. And don't bring any books up. Some tend to be outraged by your action."

I thought so... Vaile waved his hands to her.

"I'm getting pumped! Start digging already, Hades!"

"Whatever; bah! The dusts never seem to end."

They began their real journey, searching for countless answers for their countless questions.

Nalagarh was on the tippy top of the Empire State Building, glancing down at the traffic below. As a genii, you are not afraid for heights or anything in that matter. You are a sheet that blows in the wind, no care in the world. Gar drifted around the point of the skyscraper, moving about with ease. The smell of congestion and street hot dogs drifted up to his nose. The cool wind moved him about while the gravity moved him down. Not much fun for a ghost demon. Besides the point of scaring people, of course.
Nalagarh settled down on the top survey area, the setting sun in the west casted it's elongated temporary sunlight on New York. He yawned, patting his mouth with his hand before leaning against a gargoyle.

"Hello, Mr. Gargoyle. How are you?" The gargoyle didn't respond, staying at the west sky. Gar furrowed his eyebrows. With his ring finger, Gar poked the gargoyle's stoney stomach.
"Answer me. I need an answer!" At last, it didn't budge. He sighed, retreating to his normal position as he watched the sunset and darkness prevailed. The lights of Time Square were flashing off and on, like stars. Gar sighed, resting his hands behind his head. He must've slept for some time when he heard a slight buzzing coming from his left. He blinked slightly before seeing a black figure with seething red eyes, staring at him. Nalagarh groaned, sitting up.

"Can't you wait until next month?" he stated, rubbing his eyes. The black figure snorted, crossed its arms and grinned. "We have important matters to attend to."

"What important matters? Destroying a city up north, eh? Seems like the work of dummies," Gar said. The black figure faced the west, placing his arms behind his back.

The cloaked figure cooly said,"We aren't going to destroy it, Nalagarh. Simply just letting some people go." Gar let out a heavy sigh, standing up. The sun was now rising to the east causing the skyscraper to bend shade over the cloaked figure and Nalagarh.

"Time is wasting, Nalagarh. Either be apart of this plan or forever regret it."

"Can I have a week to think about it," Gar asked. The cloaked person chuckled. "You've had a month to think about it."

"Yes, yes I know. It just feels a bit rushed." Gar walked beside the cloaked figure. "I mean, think about it from my point of view. I am a ghost demon thing that was plotted in this city some decade ago. I like it here. Those turtle doves over there, they like me too. If I live and destroy the land up there, who knows what'll happen?"

"I do. War and chaos. The perfect revenge."

"That was a rhetorical question, Cloakie." Gar stated, leaping up to the balcony. He began balancing with his arms outstretched. If he fell, it wouldn't hurt him. Just damage his self-esteem a little.

"Zaquin, to you." "Whatever, whatever."

Nalagarh hopped off the balcony a little ways from Zaquin and sat down. "This city is quite something else, you know? Everything is so perfect and smart. For being someone who is 300 plus years, traveled the ancient cities and seen almost everything, New York is different from everything else."

"Don't get sappy with it. Going to be full of people like you and I," Zaquin stated, gazing off. Gar frowned, leaning forward. Below, in the early morning rush hour, dozen of cars were honking and trying to get to work. People wore suits and dresses, walking to little shops and meeting friends.

"I'll be back tomorrow night, when the full moon is out. You better have decided what your plan is, Nalagarh. Your parents need your help, and it is up to you to decide."

"Yeah, but-" before he could finish, Zaquin left. Nalagarh sighed deeply, resting his left hand in his right hand. Earlier that day, he had pondered the pros and cons, the phipohosily of people like Zaquin, and spent half of the thinking in Central Park. One perk of being a ghost is that no one can see you. Gar walked around the park, seeing little children with melting ice cream cones and their parents smiling down. Some were holding hands while others were sitting on benches, reading books. There were joggers and people selling hotdogs, dogs were playing in the nearby dog park, while lovers gazed dreamily into each other's eyes.
When Gar got back to the top of skyscraper, night was falling and the turtle doves were flying about trying to find a place to sleep. Nalagarh settled in his normal spot with a hot dog for dinner, while watching the sunset.
When he was done, he played I spy with the doves before falling asleep.
Zaquin was watching him from the farthest cloud, grunting before moving into the study for some book reading.

Benji | Still Somewhere in Manhattan



Benji was feeling it today. It was one of those days where the sun seems just a bit brighter in the sky. Benji smiled and looked up to meet the bland gray clouds with his grin.

He raised his hand and gave the clouds a nice ghostly [Insert profanity here].

Screw the clouds. Benji slowly floated upwards, clicking on Tempo and pumping his fists into the air in excitement.

The canopy loomed closer. Benji had taken the NYC skyline by storm, literally. He drifted ever upwards, still shaking like a loon. Then the sun met his skyward gaze and he turned away. Benji looked down and cackled at the clouds below.

Yup, today was one of those days. Benji stayed in the sun for a while, letting the wind push him wherever it pleased. All that mattered was the gentle light and the clear blue of the sky.

He could see everything, all the way to the horizon. Benji fancied that if he kept going he might find the end of the world.

A brief flash of memory saw his smile slowly fade.

Benji, with an effort, broke free of the wind's grasp, staying his confused course.

She always hated clouds.

Benji stared at the sun, wishing he could feel it's warmth on his skin again. He slowly sank, letting gravity do with him what it did best.

Benji today your not going to do that thing you do. Your going to be happy Benji today

So he floated back down below the clouds and felt that same tearing feeling he did at the docks.

Eventually the cloudburst dispersed and the day found him twirling lazily just above a pond. Last Benji checked Central Park didn't have any ponds. But, with a quick glance downwards, Benji assured himself that what he was indeed spinning above water and that water belonged to a pond.

So he spun aimlessly, occasionally waltzing through a bird that landed near him. They never did seem to notice him though. Only the cats did and they didn't give enough a shite to give a shite.

Eventually he got bored of that. The spinning was monotonous and the birds were moronic. It was time for a walk.

The subway tunnels were the best places to walk. That being said there was always the occasional train. Those were exceedingly loud and annoyingly long. It was like sitting through one of those YouTube ads that didn't have a skip button. But besides that the tunnels themselves were nice and cool and not nearly as disgusting as people made them about to be.

Regardless, Benji hated the trains. Having them run right through you was a nightmare. His head was always around everyone else's foot level.

Then there were the ghosts. The Genii in the subways were nice. They said little and did even less. Plus they never had gadgets to show off.

So he walked, or floated down the subway, occasionally stopping to exchange pleasantries with a couple of lonely ghosts.

However, with little to keep his interest, Benji inevitably found himself back at square one.



She always hated clouds

But the clouds were gone. Instead, her eyes gazed back at him from the darkness of the tunnel ahead.

You said you weren't gonna do that thing you do Benji

Benji sighed. Then stared ahead once again.

And he realized he was smiling.

Well if It was up to me there would be no clouds in this world. Not a single one!

The memories came back, rushing against him, trying to push him back to that time in the past. But Benji was smiling.

Benji was happy because today was one of those days where he felt like he could face anything.

He blinked, and her eyes were gone, replaced by a cat, an icy cat.

That wasn't to say the cat was cold, for the cat was not, but it was completely made out of ice. Benji froze.

The cat was a dhalku.

He slowly inched forwards. The cat simply stared at him, it's head cocked slightly. Benji stared at it for a minute longer, then tentatively walked forwards and put his hand out. The cat shied away, lifting one of it's paws as if to swat at his hand. Benji backed away as well, not sure if a dhalku's paw would harm him but not wanting to take a chance.

The cat relaxed. Staring at Benji before turning around and walking away from him. Benji watched it for a moment then started forwards. It seemed like the cat was leading him to something. The question was what?

Paggya – Together, we ride!

“SpellCast: Spoon Barrier!” Paggya planted her giant spoon on the ground, resulting in an invisible shield appearing like a protective screen around her. Novayon's assault collided with the barrier, barely even scratching it. Paggya raised a finger and pointed it at him. “HexCast: Target Lock!” As she said that, a tiny bolt of white light came out of her finger and struck Novayon, who jumped back in return. He gazed down at his chest, surprised. “Uhh… Was that supposed to hurt me? 'Cause I don't feel a thing.”

“Didn't you hear?” Paggya replied, smiling confidently. “I said: 'Target Lock.' From the name, you should be able to guess that what hit you wasn't meant to be harmful. Or at least not yet.”

“Yeah, about that, d'you really have to shout the name of every single of your actions? No offense, but it's not very practical. I mean I have to do it with some of my own spells, but like… not all the time.”

“Typical talk from someone who hasn't been in the Netherworld for very long.” was Paggya's immediate answer. “The Dalkhus from the Realm of Down Below such as myself use a magic that's similar to the one found on Earth. In other words, oral incantations are the best way to focus one's spells and cast them with enough power for them to be truly effective. But since fully worded incantations would require too much time, we found ways to shorten them to abbreviations and spell names to make it as practical as possible.”

“Oh. Well I'm glad I escape that rule then!” Novayon exclaimed, “I just need to imagine my attacks and bam! They happen. Shouting stuff does make some of my spells more powerful though, so I guess I get it.”

“You can thank my Father for your exception. And besides,” Paggya continued in a malicious tone, “not all of my spells require oral incantations to activate. Some of them only require that I trigger them in advance, then all I need to do is buy time until they're ready. Buy time with a conversation such as this one, for instance!” Paggya suddenly raised an arm and snapped her fingers. Behind her, the Pot of Cupidity began shining, and two objects came out of it – an hourglass and a pen, surrounded by the Pot's signature green light. The two items sprung forward, aiming for Novayon. The latter deflected the first and dodged the second one, earning a slight scratch on the cheek on the process.

“Huh. Sharp pen you got there, Paggy,” he commented.

“But not nearly as sharp as your reflexes, it seems,” she admitted. “It looks like I'll have to play a little bit more seriously. SpellCast: Material Burst!” A bolt of white light similar to the first one struck the Pot of Cupidity, and two more items came out of it, hovering above Paggya. “These Materials all come from Pagaras, my personal Vault of Greed,” she explained. “As long as some of my possessions are stored in it, I can take them out through my dear Pot of Cupidity and offer them to anyone willing to accept my gifts. I hope you'll enjoy them, Nova!” she added with a wink.

“I'm fine as I am!” he replied, sticking out his tongue in a provocative manner. “So no thanks, you despicable witch!”

Paggya smirked as two more Materials came out of her Pot. “Allow me to insist,” she said, snapping her finger once again. As she did so, the Materials flung themselves at her adversary, one by one. Novayon immediately deflected the first one, but to his surprise, it detonated, pushing him on the ground. He only had the time to rise up before the three others followed and detonated as well, creating a cloud of smoke and fire all around him. Novayon emerged mere seconds later, apparently unaffected by the blast. “Well darn it!” he exclaimed, gazing at his long hair. “I really need to ask Harpaggyon if I can't buy that stupid shampoo...”

“Barely damaged,” Paggya thought to herself, noticing the several bruises and cuts on Novayon's arms and legs. “His magical energy is powerful enough to protect him from minor assaults. I'll need to distract him if I want to get rid of it. And deal actual damage.” “Greedjinn,” Paggya ordered. “keep him busy. You know what to do.”

“So, Paggy!” Novayon exclaimed while brushing off dust from his torn sleeves. “Ready for round… Uhh...” The confident tone Novayon had taken disappeared as he froze, his face assaulted by several drops of sweat. Before his eyes, Greedjinn was alternating poses at an increasingly fast rate, right next to a smirking Paggya.

“What… What the heck is he doing?” Novayon couldn't help but ask, staring at the Familiar with utter confusion.

“Keeping count,” was her mysterious reply. “And so should you, because Djinni almost reached thirty poses. My, you're easily distracted, aren't you, Nova?”

Greedjinn ended his manly display with a sprinter's pose, just as a green aura began appearing around his entire body. He suddenly sprung forward, swiftly reaching for an astonished Novayon and tackling him with all his might. The poor Guardian Genii was pushed away, once again disappearing behind a cloud of smoke.

“Why do I always have to see that muscle-head when I don't want to...?”

Paggya turned back. “Welcome back, Vermee. And don't worry about it: your timing is perfect. Go get some rest, and let me summon the Pot of Charity. I want to deal with this threat at full power.”

“Aye-Aye, m'Lady!” Vermeroj exclaimed before disappearing in a flash of light.

Paggya took yet another object resting on her belt and placed on the ground as it extended. She gazed at the result, satisfied.
On the far left, the golden Pot of Affluence, showing off the largest smile of them all on, decorated with multicolored jewel-like teeth, a crystal blue handle and tiny eyes of the same color.
Next to it was the much more humble-designed Pot of Humility, blue in color, with closed eyes, a serene smiling face and purple lipstick as its only decoration.
On the center were the green Pot of Cupidity and the Pot of the Restrained, the latter being a simple black pot with each of its corners decorated by a demonic gargoyle face.
Next to it rested the Pot of Charity, pure white item with black hand-shaped handles and a benevolent smile painted on it.
Finally, on the far right was the Pot of Avidity, purple in color, showing of a dastardly smile while a tongue stuck out of its opened, yellow teeth-filled mouth.
It had been a long time since Paggya had last seen her entire set of Pots reunited. But she was bent on succeeding in her mission, so going all out was the safer option if she wanted her ambition to be fulfilled.
“And I guess I kinda want to show Nova what I can really do,” a corner of her mind couldn't help but think. Turning back once more, Paggya noticed that Novayon was still struggling against Greedjinn's assaults, while two Materials occasionally came out of the Pot of Cupidity to attack Novayon, proof that Gurivoj was at work. It was now or never. Joining her hands together, Paggya began chanting.





Greedjinn suddenly appeared in the girl's sight, violently pushed back by Novayon. The latter stared at Paggya and prepared himself to evade a new assault from her.



“Oh boy.” Novayon whispered, his eyes widening as a smile appeared on the face of one of the gargoyles of the Pot of the Restrained. “This is a big one. A really big one.” He dodged a group of Materials flying towards him and leaped away, avoiding the detonation once they hit the ground. Seeing an opening, Greedjinn ran towards his foe and attempted to punch him. With a simple movement of his bust, Novayon evaded the attack. Clenching his fist, he countered with a punch of his own, easily sending Greedjinn away again. “Sorry big guy,” Novayon said in a serious tone. “But I've got a mission to fulfill. And you're kind of in the way here, so get lost.” Novayon's hand instantly ignited as he dashed at Greedjinn's encounter. The Familiar attempted to evade the assault, but it was too late.

“NA-Palm!” The fire on Novayon's hand exploded like violent fireworks, briefly engulfing Greedjinn's entire body and burning it down in an instant. “You better stop what you're doing right now, Paggy,” Novayon warned, jumping over another couple of Materials thrown at him. “I wouldn't want you to get hurt that badly too.”

“Your honest concern for my safety is acknowledged and appreciated, Nova,” Paggya said. “However, the will to fulfill my ambitions burns brighter than any flames you might dare summon against me.” With that said, she took another item from her belt and threw it in the air. “I hereby call for your protective strength,” she intoned. “Come forth, and become the guardian of my Materials!”

As the item thrown in the air expanded and turned into a large blue jar, a giant red turtle appeared below, following Paggya's call. The jar landed on its back, acting like a strange turtle shell. “Truby!” she quickly ordered. “activate the Snake Jar.” “I have no time for another summoning chant,” Paggya thought to herself as a flurry of snakes came out of the blue jar to attack Novayon. “I'll have to make this short and get to the Fourth Will. Fast.” “SummonCast!” she shouted. “Constantine!”

A light green cat-like being emerged from the Pot of Cupidity, bearing the same horrid smile as the object, red eyes and yellow teeth included. “Constantine,” Paggya exclaimed, “amplify the power of the Pot of Cupidity. Three materials in a row Keep the enemy busy!” With an agreeing meow, Constantine released a bolt of energy towards the Pot of Cupidity, and as Paggya had commanded, three Materials instead of two came out of it, instantly followed by three others as they launched. Novayon found himself fending off snakes while avoiding the increasing number of projectiles thrown at him.


“Okay, this is getting annoying.” Novayon muttered, avoiding the spurting acid venom of a snake he defeated. “Time to clean up this mess. NU-Clear!” Novayon raised an arm and a dart-shaped fireball appeared, hovering over his hand. He flung his arm forward and the missile followed, ramming into one of the Pot of Cupidity's thrown Materials. It detonated, creating a wave of fire that instantly vaporized the snakes and its jar, Truby and Constantine.

“Any enemy that's in a defensive position, trying to avoid this spell or doesn't have enough magical energy to handle it will get burned to death,” Novayon explained to an awestruck Paggya. “You or your Pots don't seem to fall in the third category, so you're safe. Not for long though,” he added, slowly pulling out his sword from the scabbard that had not left his side. “I really don't want to meet whoever lives in that Pot of yours, so I'm sorry, but I have to stop you now.”

“As… impressive as this was,” Paggya began, slowly regaining her composure, “I don't think you understand the situation you're in, Nova. There are six Pots behind me, and all you've done was destroying the Familiars I sent to confront you, as well as dodge the assaults from one of them. Speaking of which, heads up!”

“I saw them!” Novayon exclaimed, deflecting two materials with his sword. “Aren't you getting tired of keeping that spell going?”

“I've basically been using it all my life,” Paggya replied. “Don't you think I've gotten used to it by now? SpellCast: Avid Absorption!”

The Pot of Avidity's mouth opened, and a vicious wind began blowing all around it. The burned remains of Paggya's Familiars were blown away and sucked inside the Pot. It closed its mouth as its eyes glittered unnaturally.

“Though I can only use this spell once four or more Familiars have been destroyed,” Paggya revealed, “it is a quite enjoyable trick to use on my adversaries. After all, few people like fighting foes defeated only seconds ago, am I right?”

Greedjinn and Constantine sprout out of the shinning Pot of Avidity, looking exactly the way they did before their defeat. Novayon stared at them, incredulous. “Yeah, okay, that too is freakin' impressive,” he admitted. “But I'm not sure how relevant this is if I can just one shot them again.”

“Unless they're in an attacking position when you attempt to 'one-shot them', as you say,” Paggya replied.

“...Oh shoot, I told you. Hey but that's not fair, I was just trying to be cool!”

Paggya couldn't help but chortle. How could he be such a child? “To your credit, Nova, I think you were cool. But avoid revealing information to your enemies...”

“You've been doing that since the beginning of this fight!”

“...Without a set purpose behind it.” she continued, trying not to laugh, “Or else it will backfire. Every time I gave you an information about my powers, it was beneficial to me, and irrelevant to you. I can't say it worked well the other way around.”

“Well it's fine, 'cause I got my sword!” Novayon said, bravely brandishing his weapon. “I can totally beat them again without my NU-Clear spell!”

Paggya pointed at Greedjinn with her spoon. “GearCast: Rampart Smasher!” From the Pot of Cupidity, a giant spear arose and flew to Greedjinn's encounter. It was metallic in appearance, and its head was shaped like a bulky star decorated with eye-like rubies. The Familiar grabbed it in his hands and proceeded to put himself in battle stance.

“GearCast…!” Paggya shouted.

“No! Novayon shouted back. “Stop summoning more stuff! Cut it out!” He rushed to Paggya's encounter, but Greedjinn immediately attacked, forcing Novayon to fall back as his swung his oversized spear with apparent ease.

“...Power of Cupidity!” Paggya resumed. “SummonCast: Thrift the Goblin of Greed!” Following Paggya's order, the Pot of Cupidity flew in the air, shrunk to a head-like size and attached itself to Greedjinn as he fought. A burst of energy immediately struck the Familiar and his battle rhythm drastically increased, pushing Novayon back even further. Behind him, a dwarf-like anthropomorphic being with green skin and abnormally long arms and legs stood, wearing a fancy red and yellow clown costume.

“As long as he's on the field, all of my Pots are protected, including the Pot of Cupidity on Djinni's head.” Paggya recalled. “So Djinni is invulnerable providing Nova doesn't figure this out. I better hurry up.”



“DIE ALREADY!”

Paggya stared in the distance, where Novayon was fending off Greedjinn. Engulfing his sword with fire, Novayon proceeded to rapidly slash the Familiar in a rhythmic fashion, stepping hard on the ground to take the momentum he needed before performing his deadly moves, filling his opponent's muscular body with thousands of scratches of various shapes and sizes. And no matter how hard Greedjinn tried, he found himself unable to follow Novayon's new pace. He fell on the ground, pushed aside by a vicious thrust.

“Hah!” Novayon exclaimed. “Not so tough now, when I'm usin' my Deuce Edge Dance!” An excited grin painted on the face, Novayon raised an arm in the air. “NU-Clear!”

Seeing the move coming, Greedjinn attempted to rise up and attack his opponent, but realized that he couldn't anymore. The back of his feet had been cut several times, which prevented him from moving away.

“Sorry man,” Novayon said, “but since you can't die by my sword, I kinda wanted to make sure you couldn't move. Try surviving if your body's reduced to ASHES again!!”

“Oh no, I forgot! Thrift is too far away to attack Nova.” Paggya realized, gazing at the goblin next to her. “He'll be caught in the blast anyway, and Greedjinn will soon follow. Time to put an end to this.”

As Novayon's projectile collided with the ground, Paggya once again joined her hands together.


Novayon's fiery explosion struck Paggya's Familiars just as the final gargoyle on the Pot of the Restrained finally grinned along with the others, its eyes glowing unnaturally. The summoning was complete, and the trap had been set.



“So, Paggy!' Novayon declared with a malicious grin, unaware of his worsened situation. “Are you finally gonna stop praying and fight me for real, or are you gonna send out your minions again? I could do this all day!”

A gentle smile grew on Paggya's lips. For several seconds, she contemplated Novayon. The faint glow of the enchanted sword resting over his right shoulder enlightened his entire being, giving a shining aura to his presence. She couldn't help but admire his strength, unable to remember when was the last time she had met such a passionate opponent.

“...What?” he said, slightly confused. “Is… Is there something on my face?”

“When a lost Genii is taken under a Dalkhu's wing to complete a specific contract,” she explained quietly, “failing the contract usually means that the Genii will lose his purpose of existence. And thus, his life.”

“Uh... Yeah, I know,” Novayon said. “Especially if a Genii's under your Dad's wing – 'cause he's not a merciful guy. That's why I'm gonna beat you, since well, I don't really wanna die.”

“You can't win anymore, Nova.” Paggya declared softly. She snapped her fingers and a shadowy, snake-like figure came out of the Pot of the Restrained. It opened a single red eye and grinned, its mouth filled with monstrous teeth.

“...Oh. That.” Novayon whispered. “Is that the thing you were praying for?”

“Yes, Nova. It is. Restrained?” Paggya called. “Unleash the Fourth Will.” She had barely finished her sentence that the Restrained cackled maniacally and flew to Novayon's side, circling around him at amazing speed. The Genii attempted to swing his sword, but the devilish creature was too fast for his blade.

“Gaaaaah! Get it off, get it off!” To Novayon's surprise, the Restrained spun one last time before flying back to his mistress. He began furiously spinning around her instead, leaving Novayon completely unharmed.

“Wha… What happened?” he whispered, gazing at his shaking hands. “I'm… I'm okay?”

“Yes Nova,” Paggya's voice replied, echoing through the black tornado around her. “You're okay. But only because you haven't yet realized what you've lost. But allow me to gaze upon you so that you do.” With that said, Paggya walked out of the Restricted's spinning frenzy. She was completely changed, having traded her fancy dress for white gloves and a skin tight black suit over which she wore a short crimson jacket as well as a short dress and long boots of the same color. A whip rested on the side of her belt.

“Uhh… so…” Novayon asked carefully. “The Restrained lets you change your clothes?”

“Don't be ridiculous, Nova,” Paggya said with a little gesture of the hand, as if brushing off his words. “Enchanted clothing are tools that can be summoned just as easily as weapons. Besides, this one happens to be a combat suit.” She locked her eyes into Novayon's. “Incredibly useful when one wants to practice swordplay.” Paggya raised a hand in the air and opened her palm. Giant flames began spiraling around her body before vanishing as abruptly as they had come.

“You… You gotta be kidding me...” Novayon whispered as Paggya pulled out the very sword he had in his hands several minutes ago.

“By taking your sword,” Paggya said, “I also took a shard of your memories surrounding it. Its name is Roy. And by the way? You shouldn't play video games that much.”

“You… you actually took it… You… You took away my Roy...”

Paggya's resolve wavered at the site of Novayon's desperate tone and gaze, which she knew was a precursor to anger. “Listen, Nova!” she exclaimed. “Once my goal achieved, I will never stop helping Geniis, Humans, and Dalkhus alike. You hear me? Never. But… to actually reach it, I have to destroy, steal and fight. It's part of what Greed taught me against my will. I'm sorry, but I'm–”

“RIGHTEOUS!”

Paggya froze, surprised by the shout. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“Righteous!” Novayon repeated, seemingly overjoyed. “You… Are… Righteous! I can't believe you actually took Roy! Wow! I… okay, this is by far the weirdest fight I've ever had with someone, but I'm lovin' it! You know, like McDonalds! Because it's… Addicting. ...Okay that was terrible, but you get my point! Right?”

Paggya stared at him for several seconds, and for the first time in years, she unleashed a vibrant, crystalline laugh that lasted for long minutes. When it finally died down, Paggya had tears in the corners of her eye, and she realized that Novayon had not moved from his spot. “Was… Was the joke really that good?” he inquired awkwardly.

“Oh, Nova,” she said, shaking her head as a sweet smile appeared on her face. “You're fantastic, and I'm an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I don't want this to end yet. No matter what, we're finishing our duel with a sword fight. Tell me, you have a backup plan, don't you?”

Novayon bent his knees, a grin replacing the awestruck expression previously stuck on his face. Two blades of fire materialized in his hands, accompanied by crackling sounds, like gentle campfires in lost woods. “Let's just say it's not the first time I lose Roy,” Novayon explained. “And I'm pretty sure that it won't be permanent if I can beat you. How did you guess I had a backup plan?”

“Let's just say that Roy told me about it,” Paggya replied on the same malicious tone. “Look, Nova, I...”

“Shhh! Put yourself in position already! Can't you see what we're doing here? You're finally giving the fight I truly want. You're finally giving me the confrontation I was purposely trained to overcome. So why d'you still look so sad?”



After several seconds, Paggya nodded, a light of comprehension in her eye as her mind was filled with the memories linked to her new sword. “And I'm giving you this confrontation with your own weapon.” she finally said. “I've stolen it, as well as all the abilities related to it.”

“And none of us here knows if you can handle these skills.” Nova continued, “Or if I'll be able to beat you anyway.”

Paggya's heartbeat accelerated. She promptly snapped her fingers: as a result, the six Pots standing behind her shrunk back to their toy-like size and flew back to her belt. “I'm throwing away the certainty of my victory for a sword fight that I have no guarantee I can win, thus putting my very ambitions and possibility of freedom at risk.”

Novayon's eyes glittered with joy. “And I'm putting my life on the line, using the last of my abilities to fight against the weapon I enjoyed forging and took pride in using.”

They locked their gazes into one another, suddenly animated by a feeling of perfect mutual understanding. “The outcome is uncertain, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next.” they exclaimed in unison. “How… How exciting!”

For the first time in her long life, Paggya had willingly let the greedy part of her mind dictate her actions and feelings. And it was together with it that she rushed at Novayon's encounter, ready to begin a dance like she had never experienced before. Dalkhu, Genii, Deity, her ultimate fate didn't matter anymore. The only thing in Paggya's mind was her deadly dance with Novayon, a dance that she knew she would remember for the rest of her existence.

Benji | Somewhere in the Subways

Benji inched forwards, following just behind the cat.

Not that he wanted to. Benji knew the icy feline was a dhalku even if it was barely sentient and Benji wanted nothing to do with dhalku or anything a dhalku might be leading him to.

But he felt like he had to. He felt like something really, really important was just beyond the bend in the tunnel ahead.

The icy cat disappeared around the corner and Benji stopped, fighting the instinct to run away he had cultivated for so long.

Then the cat peeked back at him, waiting with a seemingly bored expression. Benji sighed, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He jogged up and around the curve in the tunnel, fearing the worst yet knowing he would not run away.

Benji was met with an empty station.

The cat sat on one of the vacant benches, licking it's paws contentedly. Benji just glared at it, pointing at it with his hand as if to say "What?" In the most monotone voice possible

The cat didn't even look up.

Benji climbed out of the subway tracks and went to sit at a different bench, still wary of the cat.

Suddenly, a dull moan echoed from above. Benji jumped, looking up at the ceiling.

Was that a...a voice?

NU-Clear!

Another dull boom sounded from above, making even the cat glance up from his paws.

Benji just stared at the ceiling. Should he go see what was happening? It wouldn't put him in to much danger, after all he was already dead.

Benji shook his head and glanced back at the cat. It had sprung up on it's hind legs and was using the arm rest as a scratching post, scraping small furrows into the metal. Benji shivered, and stood. He looked over at the stairway, and began to walk towards it.

Then he stopped, and looked back at the cat.

It sat on it's haunches, looking at him with the same frozen eyes.

Benji gestured to the stair way, then began his walk toward it once more.

The cat did not follow, as Benji soon found out as he turned back once more. He stood there, glaring at the cat.

The cat licked it's chest absentmindedly.

Benji pointed at the cat, making it look up, then pointed at the stairwell.

The cat stretched, then began scratching at the bench once more.

Benji walked forwards, mumbling profanities to himself, and went to pick up the cat.

The cat sprung upwards, hissing like an avalanche of icicles, and bounded over the bench to the stairwell.

There it sat, waiting expectantly for Benji to follow.

Benji glared at the cat. Then, without taking his eyes off the feline, slowly sat down on the bench.

The cat turned and left. Leaving Benji hustling after it.

It was then that the dust cleared, and Myza could see both faces in full detail. One, a young woman with red hair and striking eyes. The other, a boy with sandy blonde hair and an air of contagious defiance. She recognised the woman - Sophia Vinami, the Goddess of Sagacity. Myza remembered the first time she had seen those eyes whilst fighting a dalkhu; she was unmistakably the owner.

Sophia looked up, and Myza bowed her head in respect. She didn't require an exchange of words; one look from the Goddess of Sagacity told her that she was able to handle the situation. Myza let her shadow-creatures retreat back to their dormant state, lowering her weapon. "I trust that you will handle this better than I could," she said as her bow vanished from her hands. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she shot a fiery glare at the dalkhu-god - he reminded her too much of Tullo. His eyes told of a wild, liberated soul; Myza had seen too many reckless souls like his.

Myza left the area swiftly, her shadows watching her go. It was then that she remembered what she had come for - the Parade. Myza darted through the crowds of old and young, leaping over stray suitcases and lost items. She ran through the procedure in her head - open the gate, pass through to Kadingir, get past the atu-genii, prepare for the Parade. Myza herself had never taken part in the Parade; it was such a rare occurrence that it had only ever happened once within her lifetime. Perhaps the Parade had happened more than Myza realised, but she wasn't exactly in touch with her colleagues.

Myza headed towards one of the many platforms in Grand Central. It was quite an unusual place for a gate to be opened, but she thought it was quite useful. To any passerby, it simply looked as if she were boarding a train. In an age where anyone could capture footage, deities and creatures of an had to be careful where they took care of their business.

Myza tapped each section of the walls in turn - one, two, counting as she went. It worked like echolocation; as she walked and touched, she could feel the pull of the gate Once found, she had to settle her heartbeat and thoughts. That was what she found most difficult, the calming of the mind and soul.

The goddess took deep breaths, eyes closed; inhale, exhale. Passengers flooded around the platform, moving in one direction as if they were a single object. When the crowds cleared, more passengers bundled onto the trains. It wasn't an ideal environment to be opening a gate in, but it had to do. Myza opened her eyes and turned to the wall. She began to trace an intricate pattern on the wall's surface, feeling the lines throb with magic. Once she had finished, the pattern darkened as if she had drawn in charcoal. Myza leaned closer to the wall and whispered into the pattern.

"Ati me peta babka."

The pattern blazed with white-hot flames. Fire shot from every crevice, almost cutting through the wall and creating a tunnel. Myza stepped back knowingly and watched as sparks flew. The gate widened into a door-like shape lined with glowing light, and passersby simply glanced at Myza as if she were a stray cat or a street performer. After the gate's wild spitting and hissing ceased, Myza took a breath and stepped through.



Kadingir was just how she remembered it.

After what must have been half a century, Myzanke, Goddess of Honesty, had returned to an. She remembered the last time she had been in the land of the gods; it felt like yesterday, the fresh whiteness of her home, the endless expanse of Heaven's Wilderness.

The last images of Tullo and Karlotte, and the blade they left her soaked in the blood of gods.

Myza halted, concentrating on her breathing. She looked back through the gate she had created; passengers still hurtled past without a glance towards her. Myza made a vertical motion with her hand and the gate closed swiftly. She looked ahead, and what lay in front of her mirrored the station she had left behind. Gods and genii, though much fewer than the passengers of Grand Central, stood around the white platform. A train had just pulled up as Myza turned - strung with blue ribbon and painted in white, the train looked somewhat seasonal.

"Can I ask your name and domain, miss?"

A tall, thin genii stood beside the door to the first carriage. He wore a plain white uniform with blue trimming, the same shade as the train's ribbons. Rather than extending an arm and taking a ticket like most would expect, he simply required her name. Myza stood tall and gave it.

"Myzanke, Goddess of Honesty."

The genii smiled. "Ah, I should have known. Right this way." He gestured towards the carriage's interior, even offering a hand to Myza, which she refused. She made her way to a seat and let her eyes wander. Outside, gods and genii of all kinds streamed towards the train like a storm of angels. Myza's eyes stuck to one in particular. A young man - barely old enough to be so - with wavy chestnut hair and striking ice-blue eyes. He carried with him a small, unsuspecting drawstring bag. It had no magical qualities that Myza could sense, yet when she looked at it, her eyes ached as if she were looking at a bright light.

Myza watched the boy with a fierce intent. He approached the train carefully, stepping about him as if he were a cat on a branch. The genii by the train turned to him as he tried to board - Myza knew what questions he would be asking. The brown-haired man apologised and gave his name and domain; unless, Myza thought, he was a genii, in which case he would name himself and the deity he was bound to. The man swiftly boarded the train after the genii gave him the all clear, and after a few more minutes of painful waiting, the train began to move.



"Zanna!"

The young blonde woman looked up from her work. Running towards her was a small child of nine years, curled brown locks bobbing as they moved. The child wrapped himself around her arm and leaned over, staring at her hands.

"Zanna, what are you making?"

A piece of rough stone sat next to a pile of wood chips and shavings. The woman's fingers unfurled, revealing a polished - if slightly off-centre - crescent moon, cut from a ghostly pale wood. The child began to hop up and down in excitement. "It's a moon, it's a moon!"

Zanna smiled and held the wooden pendant out to the child. Small, fat fingers touched it gently, not daring to hold it in case it was broken. The woman would not demand such respect from a young boy, but it seemed to come naturally. "A moon," she said, and nodded. The boy clung to her and his face lit up with happiness. "Zanna-amah, what are you going to do with it?"

"Come on, it's time for bed," spoke a soft voice from behind them. Another woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, reached out for the boy's hand. He let her take it and smiled back to Zanna. "You can tell me tomorrow, okay?"

After he left, the woman returned in a white dress reaching past her ankles. It was simple, slung across the shoulders and tied at the waist with a thin blue band. She placed a hand on Zanna's shoulder, her smile kind and weary. "You should get some sleep too."

Zanna did not smile back. "I worry about him. There's something there, inside him. He's not a normal child, Teagan."

The other woman's smile faded and she lifted her hand. Bowing her head in respect, she announced her retirement for the night and advising Zanna to do the same. "After all, you have a busy day tomorrow," she'd said. Zanna sighed in her solitude.

"Don't I always?"



Myza looked at herself once again. The dress she wore slung over her shoulders in a loose manner, bound at the waist by a blue band. She remembered it from years ago and frowned. The days back then were calm and peaceful, with Teagan and Tullo as a small boy. Myza blinked quickly, before her eyes began to sting with tears.

Solemnly, the Goddess of Honesty left the building. She didn't care to call it home anymore - home should be a place of more happy memories than sad, and that wasn't the case for her own. Being in a house she couldn't bear to be in was wearing her down, so she left it for some fresh air. She felt strangely empty, as if something had been forgotten.

Looking out into an brought some much needed nostalgia. The land mirrored much of what was found on ki, but somehow had differences. The energy pulsing through the ground was alternate to the energy found among humans and worked alongside it as a kind of glue - energy from all three worlds attracted and repelled each other in certain ways to keep them from merging into one. This was when 'crossovers' happened - when some humans are able to see parts of an and the nether world, and the requirement for setting the Parade's date.

"The Parade!"

Myza could see a gathering in the distance, a swarming beat of music and light. There were no stars in the skies of an - the heavens were higher than the stars themselves, and this was one of the many reasons why Myza enjoyed her time more in ki. The goddess squinted as she tried to estimate how much time she had and how she was to get to the Parade. After some time, Myza mustered the courage to summon her shadows.

The darkness was stronger at night like this, with no light to interfere. The shadows were pulled from walls and ground like water from the source, feeding into Myza's clenched hand. It felt like holding back an ocean with one finger - she winced as the last of the shadows poured into her fist. After holding on as long as possible, Myza let go and watched as the shadows sprung forth and materialised into a towering black stallion, snorting furiously at its creator.

"Here we go," Myza muttered under her breath as she haphazardly mounted the horse. Almost as soon as she had stabilised herself, the creature began to hurtle towards the lights of the Parade. The goddess screamed in surprise and clutched at a silky mane in a desperate attempt to stay upright. Minutes speeded past in terror and Myza suddenly had a thought - a stallion made of the shadows themselves with a goddess on its back was sure to startle the Parade's onlookers. But as they neared the core of the glow, the stallion vanished, leaving Myza in mid-air.

Myza squeaked and fell, twisting just in time to land on her feet in a similar manner to a cat. Looking around her was a challenge - the sudden burst of pure light was blinding. That was almost an understatement. Candles and lanterns of all shapes and sizes lit up the night. Gatherings of good friends and acquaintances babbled on about things Myza didn't care to listen to. Strings of scrawled, folded notes and chains of beads were hung from every building and anything able to hold them. And within all the celebration and festivities lay an underlying darkness, a coiled spring waiting to be released.

“Mm… Magnificent one, Nova.” Paggya whispered, closing her eyes to fully appreciate the calm beauty of the song that had started playing. “Would you mind raising the volume a bit? I might just consider taking this one for my introduction later today.”

It took several seconds for Paggya to register the heavy breathing next to her. She opened her eyes and gazed up, staring at Nova. They were both sitting against the wall, with Paggya's head resting on Novayon's shoulder. Paggya had forgotten how much time they had spent like that, listening to the numerous songs Novayon had put in the jukebox hidden at the end of the room. The Genii's black shirt had been torn in several places, revealing large parcels of skin reddened by his blood. His jeans were in the same state, and although Paggya's combat suit had been damaged as well, she was the one who had won the tiresome yet unforgettable sword fight they had begun, so many hours ago. Which meant that she didn't have anything more to fear. Novayon, on the other hand...

“I'm kinda… At my limit here. I can barely lift my arm, y'know.” he whispered, visibly trying to his best to do it anyway.

“It's okay.” Paggya replied quickly, taking the remote from his hand. “You simply need to tell me which button raises the volume and...”

“Don't raise it, please.” Novayon asked gently. “It's gonna sound cheesy, but at least now I realized it.”

“Wh-What?”

Novayon giggled softly. “Your voice, Paggy. Since we started the sword fight, I realized that your voice sounded totally better than any of the songs I have in that thing. And I have 544 songs of 'em, so that's saying something.”

Paggya's hand anxiously tightened its grip around the remote. “Stop that.” she ordered in a whisper. “Please, Nova, stop talking like this.”

“Look, there's a cutie pie I got the chance to both fight and cuddle with right next to me, so since I'm gonna die after this, you can at least let me be a bit cheesy for once. 'Sides,” he continued, shakily putting an arm around Paggya's shoulder, “you don't actually mind, do ya Paggy?”

Paggya murmured an inaudible “no” and fell in silence, cursing herself for making her situation much harder than it needed to be. She had let herself be overcome by her Greed Trigger, she had even teamed up with it willingly, and now, she was in the front sit to watch the best Genii she had ever encountered in five hundred years die. Because of her.

“Hey.” Novayon called softly. “What should we call this battle we just had? The Battle of a Supernova just crossed my mind, but I dunno, it sounds too… weird. Maybe… Swordsman Versus Witch? But I guess that would be kinda degrading for you, huh.”

“Nova.” Paggya said gravely, once again lifting her head to gaze at him. “You're not going to die.”

Novayon stared back, a sad smile painted on the face. “I can already feel it though.” was his sole reply. I told you your Dad wasn't exactly the forgiving type, didn't I?”

“He's not.” Paggya admitted before suddenly rising up. “But I am. And you know what? To Hell and his rules, and to Hell with my selfish safety. He'll know where I am the second I do this, but I don't care anymore. Not a single crime committed by my Father shall run free as long as I'm here to stop it, and letting you die, Nova, would be a crime I'd never be able to forgive myself for.” With that said, Paggya snapped her fingers and, after a brief flash of light, there she was, once again wearing her crimson dress and hat. She took the shrunken Pot of Cupidity resting against her orange belt. It expanded, and a pink-colored crystal came out of it.

“Novayon Nadight.” Paggya declared. “Genii of Duels. Reveal your desire to me, and I shall grant it. But if I grant whatever it is that you wish, then you will have to swear your loyalty to me as an entitled Genii with a brand new pact...” A bright smiled grew on Paggya's face. “...And a brand new life.”

Novayon's heavy breathing abruptly stopped as he gazed at Paggya, as if contemplating her for the first time. It was the first time Paggya had seen him so utterly speechless, and it almost made her laugh. For long seconds, they remained locked in each other's eye as Novayon thought about Paggya's unexpected proposal. But finally, he used his remaining strength to rise up and stand in front of her, a mischievous smile on the face.

“A rematch with you.” he said without hesitation. “A sword fight against you and my… I mean, your Roy. In a tower like this one. I'll play the Boss again, and you the challenger.”

Paggya almost asked if he was sure, if he didn't have want any last family meeting he wanted with some of his eventual relatives, or anything else that could be possible. But she kept her questions for herself, realizing that Novayon was barely able to stand. She had to make this quick.

“Understood.” Paggya replied. “Your wish shall be granted.” the crystal in her hands began glowing, and it promptly disappeared inside Novayon's chest. His face was starting to regain its colors.

“Listen well.” Paggya continued. “You have now become the Guardian Genii of my newly created Vault of Arms: Benkei. You are to build a shrine for its glory – it will also serve as a physical implantation of my Vault upon this realm – and amass as many weapons as you can. And as I assume you most certainly are familiar with the story of Saito Musashibo Benkei himself, which inclines me to believe that you know exactly how many weapon you are expect to collect before being able to contact me again, correct?”

“Nine hundred and ninety-nine.” Novayon said with a happy smile. “And the 1000th one is...”

“Roy, yes. If you manage to defeat me, that is. In any case, you will be transported to the vault this instant and find yourself in a desert with an abandoned tower. Take care of it and begin your work. Understood?”

Little particles of light were appearing all around Novayon, starting by gathering around his legs. He briefly glanced at them before looking back at Paggya, still smiling. He opened his arms. “Hug and kiss?”

Paggya's heartbeat began racing. She turned back, facing against the wind through which she had first arrived in the building. “D-Don't get ahead of yourself, Nova.” she said in what she believed was an imperious tone. “I have no more time to waste with you. I have to take your gate and reach the Parade, remember? Now let me prepare myself and –” she was interrupted by a hand suddenly smashing on her shoulder. Paggya was forced to turn back, only to witness Novayon grabbing her waist with his other hand and squashing his lips against hers. Paggya had only realized what Novayon had done that he already took a step back, abruptly ending the contact.

“Hmm! That was good.” Novayon declared, nodding to himself. “And stop lookin' at me like you just saw some kind of scary ghost, Paggy. You had it coming!”

“But I… I only just met you...” was the only sensible thing Paggya could say, staring at Novayon with utter shock.

“Paggy.” Novayon interrupted softly. “You ended my life in a glorious combat that I'll remember forever. Then you decided to stay around to share the final moments of my worthless existence with me. And then you decided to let me live some more, with the promise that I'll get to battle you again. In one night, you've done more for me than anyone else in nine hundred and seventeen years of my stupid life. So don't expect me to not get ahead of myself here.”

His smile grew slightly larger, just as the particles of light began gathering all around Novayon's body, reaching his shoulders.

“Oh. And speakin' of getting ahead of stuff, looks I'm not stayin' here for much longer.” he continued. “Bye, Paggy! Good luck with your party crashing business.”

“W-Wait!” Paggya called. “Nova, I –”

Novayon swiftly covered the distance between them and gently pressed a finger against her lips. “Shh.” he whispered. “I'm a happy fool, y'know. Don't follow that kind of example.” He locked his gaze into Paggya's, and that was the last thing she saw of him before he completely vanished from her sight. She knew exactly where he had gone, and she also knew that she wouldn't be able to see him again before quite some time.

“I did make all of this harder for myself didn't I...” she whispered to herself, bitter. It took several minutes for her to remember what she had come in the Chrysler building in the first place and forget about Novayon's last deeds. She snapped her fingers, and Gurivoj came out of the Pot of Cupidity that was still next to her.

“Lookin' for help, M'Lady?” the little green Sprite asked, unaware of the previous events.

“The Parade has begun.” Paggya simply notified. “We shall be slightly late, but it isn't a problem. Warn your brothers, please. It is time for us to crash their party.”

“Aye aye, M'Lady!”

“Oh, and one last thing.” Paggya added as a dastardly smile grew on her face. “Take Novayon's jukebox over there. I happen to have a little idea to… Ah, how did Nova say again? Oh, yes. “'It's time to spice things up in this heavenly joint!'”


Light. Light was everywhere. Candles, lanterns and torches for as far the eye could see had been placed on beanstalks and cactus placed here and there like natural lamp posts. They were enlightening the gigantic path in which Deities, Geniis and even some humans were walking, chatting, laughing and enjoying themselves as they could. From the train that was constantly on the move – and from which a constant flow of newcomers arrived – a set of stairs allowed everyone to reach the Parade's light green path, which looked like it was cobbled with clouds. Even the edges if the path were cloud shaped, almost as if they wanted to reflect the light that struck the entire place.
Above the participants of the Heaven's Parade, several blimps and hot-air balloons of various colors flew above the giant area, silently monitoring the place. From above, it was quite easy for them to do so: the Major Deities were all dressed in shades of sky blues, the minor ones and their apprentices were dressed in a deeper shade of blue, and everything else that wasn't blue were either Geniis, Humans, or redeemed Dalkhus that had been invited in the Parade. As the road continued, the early walkers of the heavenly garden's field could see a gigantic white platform, on top of which several Aspiring Deities were making their vows.

It was on this very stage than the unwanted event unfolded.


An unholy, Spanish or Mexican tune suddenly invaded the air, silencing the peaceful hubbub of the Heaven's Parade. Following the music, a tornado of flames appeared on the white platform, just as castanets sounds added themselves in the melody. The Aspiring Deities and Benevolent Dalkhus on the stage fled as quickly as they could, while a massive crowd gathered around the stage, startled by the apparition. As Spanish trumpets joined the castanets, a giant green pot with sapphire blue stripes also appeared on the scene, as if it had always been there. Its hideous pulpy red lips were stretched in an equally horrid, yellow teeth-filled grin. It suddenly glided on the right side of the stage, revealing two other pots: a golden one with a multicolored smile just as terrifying as the green pot, and a blue pot bearing a serene smile painted on its face.

“Did we just burst your bubble?” a voice exclaimed over the music. A green-colored Sprite came out of the green pot, with two others from the pots next to the green one. As a Spanish violin replaced the trumpets, three other pots slid on the other side of the scene.

“Sorry to interrupt your little Mario Party, but we kinda need to make a point here!” a second voice said as two more Sprites came out of the pure white, gentle-looking pot and the purple one, which was a defiant tongue sticking out towards the audience. The last pot, black in color, remained motionless, as if left out at the edge of the scene. Meanwhile, the trumpets blazed once again, soon to be replaced by simple vocals. And as the wail-like voices took over, a new shadow emerged from the flaming tornado. It was a teenage girl with a confident smile on the face and wearing a crimson red hat and dress, with flowing dark blue hair that were completely motionless despite the powerful wind around her.

“LAAAAAA-HA-HA-HA!” the five sprites sung in flawless harmony as their mistress stepped in and planed a sword on the ground. It disappeared at once, and as it did, the tornado and its deadly flames disappeared as well, just as the music ended. An impactful silence struck the ground as the girl in red smiled down at them.

“I believe something to water down the blaze of my fiery entrance is in order here.” were her first words. “I would very much prefer you all to be at ease during the present introduction of my being.” with that said, the girl snapped her fingers, and another music invaded the air.



In complete contrast with the first one, the music was more related to smooth jazz than anything else. And as the relaxing atmosphere was set, the girl chose the moment to gracefully bow in front of her audience.

“Greetings to you all.” she said with a much more gentle smile. “I am Paggya Davariss Greed, daughter of Harpaggyon Greed, Fallen deity of this realm and current Dalkhu Lord of Greed.” she let out a giggle. “Quite a redundant presentation, as you can here, so calling me Paggya will do. It is a honor for my Guardian Sprites and I to meet you all, and I hope that you will be able to fulfill our humble request – which is, to join your ranks as an Aspiring Deity.”

“And don't go around throwin' in some apples and tomatoes before we're finished, eh?” the red Sprite exclaimed, attempting to sound menacing. “We're watchin' ya! Don't waste food!”

Paggya rolled her eyes. “Come now, Vermee. I appreciate your support, but we all came here with peaceful intents. Besides, no act of violence is allowed during the Heaven's Parade. Therefore, there is nothing to fear from anyone here, including us. Is that correct?” she added, giving an insistent stare to the crowd before her. And once again, as if obeying a distant signal, the music ended just as Paggya asked her ironic question, thus ending the relaxing mood she had herself set. But it was also a signal for the crowd to react. Several people began talking about themselves, while others shouted and booed Paggya in great number. The words “Dalkhu” and “filthy rats” could be heard several times among the Deities of the realm, and several heinous glares assaulted Paggya. She gazed back at everyone, amused.

“Right, I almost forgot.” she continued in an ironic tone. A filthy Dalkhu such as myself could never join the ranks of Deities. Guri?” she called, glancing at the green Sprite. “Would you care to remind our dear audience what is, in fact, a Dalkhu?”

“Uh… A Dalkhu is like, a guy living in the Netherworld?” Gurivoj answered, hesitant. “Like… a God or a Genni that's been cast out of An 'cause he broke the Me. Right?”

“Very good, Guri.” Paggya approved. “This, of course, means that there are Dalkhus among you already, my dear Deities.” she said, looking back at the disapproving audience. “Some that came here in order to redeem themselves, some that are about to break the Me without you knowing, and some, like my father, who already broke it. In other words, the only difference between you and I is the place we live in, and how it affected us. But why would you care about that?” Paggya asked in a slightly sarcastic tone. “I thought that anyone could become a Deity of An as long as his or heat heart was in the right place. Can't I at least try my luck at being a Deity before you cast me out?”

“As if the daughter if Greed could be given the benefit of the doubt!” a God, dressed in light blue, shouted. “Greed cannot be trusted!”

Several of his pairs shouted along with him, showing their agreement of the statement. The others kept on staring, waiting for Paggya's response with morbid curiosity.

“I fully agree with this statement.” Paggya declared, silencing her detractors in the process, who didn't expect such an answer. “After all,” she continued, her smile as engaging as ever, “it is the reason I ran away from home in the first place.” Paggya slightly approached the edge of the scene, making sure that everybody could here her next words and see her eyes. As she took a deep breath, she remembered every dire moment of her long life, trying to put as much as emotional power as possible in her sentences.



“Any of you that were born to a mean father you despise because of his vast amount of evil doings…”Paggya began. “Raise your hands.” As she had expected, out of shyness or because it wasn't the case, she was greeted with silence. Her smile grew slightly larger as she alone raised her hand.

“Any of you that had to endure kidnappings, threats of close to successful rapes, torture as well as nightmares caused by the constant deaths you saw around you for more than five hundred years… Raise your hands.” Once again, she was the only one to raise her hand as a complete silence followed. Images and flashes of several of the moments she had mentioned came back to her mind as she continued, her smile and expression growing more disturbingly sad.

“Any of you who has or had to battle everyday to be accepted, to fight against preconceived ideas about who and what you are, who had to defy the very people that saw you grow up in order to survive and find a semblance of happiness in your life…” Instead of forcing the few growing tears she had back into her, Paggya decided to let them freely crawl down her face as she continued. “Please. Raise your hands.” Along with hers, several hands at the back of the crowd raised. They were coming from Geniis and Benevolent Dalkhus, recognizable for the lack of blue in their clothing. Paggya nodded in their direction and, silently, Gurivoj flew back to his Pot of Cupidity, took a tissue out of it and proceeded to wipe the tears out of his mistress' face.

“Thank you, Guri. Oh, how marvelously amazing existences you Deities must have!” Paggya suddenly explained, gazing at the pack of Deities in front of her, none of whom had raised their hands a single time. “Besides your powers and positions, none of you seem to have the slightest idea of what suffering truly means. From they day you are born to this very day. With all the respect I ought to you all, allow me to question your ability of empathy towards others if you cast someone out just because you believe he or she is “evil”, according to your definition of the word. There's a word for that, down in Ki. It's called 'discrimination'. And in only caused wars, genocides and bloodshed to humans, some of which a lot of you took part in to have more souls believing in you. And as such actions can be done without necessarily breaking the Me, some of you are still standing here, using Humans and Geniis for your own personal gain.” Paggya's smile disappeared. “How selfish.” she continued.

“Your father is Greed incarnate!” the God from before interrupted in a heinous tone. “You have no right to judge any of us, filthy Dalkhu!”



Paggya gave him an equally heinous glare in return. “It is precisely because my father is Greed incarnate that I can allow myself to judge you, filthy little god. Because he was once among you, and through my sufferings with his Fallen self, I've come to see just how pathetically twisted you all can become. He had begun 'legally' breaking the Me long before it was noticed, and he had the decency to point me a few names and tricks on how to do so before I fled. That, and you don't seem to realize the amount of Dalkhus that broke the Me in order to save humans, and were cast out because they did what they believed was the right thing. Isn't that right, Svantes, God of Passion, and brother of the Fallen Dalkhu-God of Servitude? By your own logic, if my father is a Dalkhu and I shouldn't be given a chance, then you should be thrown to the Netherworld with the brother you sold out!”

Svantes fell silent, as several of his pairs gazed at him in utter shock, whispering with more and more intensity.

“Some of the people affected by discrimination hadn't done anything wrong.” Paggy continued, focusing on the crowd once again. “Aside, of course, existing. Something that they didn't ask for. Something that I… didn't ask for. Yet here I stand! Attempting to prove to you all that my heart is indeed in the right place.” a new smile grew on her face. “But now that I think about it, you don't know anything about my heart. I showed you a mere fraction of what I had been through. But I suppose I should show you what I've become because of it.” She snapped her fingers and a shadowy, snake-like shape came out of the Pot with the smiling gargoyles. It opened a single red eye and grinned, showing off a mouth filled with monstrous teeth. It circled around Paggya as she hugged it, lovingly caressing its head. She once again stared down at her audience, but this time, her psychotic smile and glare could only be described as terrifying. She had activated her Greed Trigger.



“Greed.” Paggya whispered. It is the driving force of my father and a natural power within his entire family, which includes me. Right now, a new part of myself is wishing to Heaven and Hell that she could take all of your possessions and do whatever she wants with it. The results don't matter. What’s important is that her lust for material wealth is my lust for material wealth. Murder, torture, blackmail, even faked generosity, every trick must be used in order to get whatever she and I set our eyes on. I am a hidden danger. But that’s only…” Paggya snapped her fingers again, and the monster she had summoned disappeared, with its Pot's Gargoyles' closing their eyes. “...If I decide to let my Greed free.” Paggya continued, an engaging smile once again visible on her face. “I can discard it just as easily as I can let myself be possessed by it. The perks f being half Dalkhu, half Genii, some would say. And now, my dear audience, you’ve seen me whole. Like any imperfect being that exist in this world, I am a victim of the duality of darkness and light, unable to escape from any of the two. I am not evil, nor pure. But because I understand what I am and who I am, it is why I humbly confirm that my heart is at the right place. And that is why I hereby ask for the right of becoming… the Aspiring Deity of Fortune.”

“Wait… Fortune?” Gurivoj explained. “Like, uh… You'd be in charge of wealth? Or like, luck? Or destiny?”

Paggya patted on his head. “All of the above, Guri.” she answered. “All of the above. But before being in charge at all, I would have to be tested first. In other words, I'd have to follow the orders of a more experienced Deity to sure that I don't break the Me – willingly or by accident.”

“Following orders?” Amayeroj, the yellow Guardian Sprite of the Pot of Affluence, exclaimed. “Again? Pain in the neck if you ask me...”

Paggya giggled at the remark. “I am fairly certain that orders from Deities mostly wishing for the peace and harmony to prevail in the world cannot be any worse than orders from my father. Remember his favorite line?”



All the Sprites hugged together. “Fortune smiles to the Greedy!” they exclaimed in unison.

“Yes, the idea pretty much came from there.” Paggya admitted. She once again bowed to the crowd. “There are other, much more pressing matters that I'd need to address to you Deities, as I've been enough time in the Netherworld to know when… Things are moving.” she concluded, insisting on the word “moving.” “But for now, I assume you should all get back to you festivities, and allow me to properly apologize for taking your time.” with that said, Paggya snapped her fingers. All of the Pots behind her shrunk to their toy size and flew back to her belt, aside the Pot of Cupidity, from which she drew six plates full of cookies, napkins, bottles of juice and plastic cups along with them.

“Bear in mind that I bought all of these from various Human shops around the world of Ki, so apologies, but you won't have to use the 'made by filthy Dalkhu hands' excuse this time around!” Paggya added in a joking tone before going down the stairs of the stage. Everybody took several steps away from, as if expecting her to bite.

“Guri, you're staying near your Pot, please. “Paggya ordered. “If anyone wants more cookies, juice, napkins or plastic glasses, please behave!”

“Aye aye, M'Lady.” the Sprite muttered before floating back to his Pot, which had moved at the edge of the stage, against a wall. In the meantime, Paggya and her remaining Sprites happily distributed their goods. The first ones to taste them were Geniis and fellow Dalkhus, but soon enough, even some of the Deities ended up trying one or two of them, while others looked back at the Pot of Cupidity with suspicious eyes.

Paggya ended up approaching a lone Deity, who was among the Geniis she was talking to. She was a short-haired woman wearing a deep blue dress with an equally blue band around the waist. Her expression, however, was far from amiable upon witnessing Paggya walking up to her with a plate of cookies.

“Want one?” Paggya asked nonetheless, an engaging smile stuck on the face. “I assure you none of these are poisoned.”

Several people around them stopped what they were doing to gaze at Paggya and the Deity next to her, for the two had begun a silent stare contest.

“Did you mean what you said?” the woman finally asked in a grave tone. Paggya's smile disappeared as a determined expression swiftly replaced it.

“Every word.” Paggya replied without hesitation. The opposing Goddess once again stared at her, as if trying to scan her resolve with her very gaze. After long and tense seconds, she stared down at the cookie, slightly surprised.

"I'd rather not." she finally said.

Paggya retrieved her cheerful smile. “Don't worry. You don't have to if you're not hungry. Enjoy the Heaven's Parade, my Goddess. And may Fortune always smile by your side.” she walked away, serving more cookies and juice to whoever wanted them.

“Don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself there, M'Lady?” Vermeroj whispered, floating closer to his mistress. “With the whole fortune talk, and all.”

“Tonight, I met a friend that got ahead of himself and earned a kiss, a new life and a girl wishing she could see him again.” Paggya told him, gazing tenderly into the distance. “So who knows what I will get if I follow that happy fool's example?”

Vermeroj shared a gaze with his brothers, smiling. “You've changed, M'Lady.”

She smiled back at her Guardian Sprite. “I know.”

Jaye stood at the very edge of the parade. The greed girl had just made her speech and more or less become a deity. That frustrated Jaye. It only proved that the system the deities had made all those centuries ago was broken. How could a daughter of greed, a dalkhu, be elected to deity solely based on a fancy entrance and a speech? How could it be that someone was made deity based on the hardships they'd undergone and the wrongs they'd righted. If that was really the case then Jaye would've been a supreme deity by now.

They would never understand the plight of a Fear god who loved. And how could they? They were young, all of them. Too inexperienced to keep a hierarchy such as this afloat. Too blind to recognize that they'd already failed.

Jaye could feel it. The souls of millions of Dalkhu ravenous for revenge. He could see them invading the world. And while he didn't blame them for seeking revenge, he did not agree with their method. Jaye would stand with the deities for now, as he was the only one that could see this imminent threat. Hopefully they would see his plight. Understand his pain. Hopefully they would right their wrong.

As his anger subsided, Jaye felt a presence near him. A genii boy and a dalkhu cat. The cat gave a hiss, feeling Jaye's aura, and ran off. The boy watched with a slightly sad expression as the cat fled.

"Hello."

The kid looked at him and made a zipping motion across his mouth.

He couldn't talk.

Jaye nodded, then reached inside the kids mind. Their he found sorrow. Sorrow held back by sheer will. Jaye felt an alien emotion then, something he hadn't felt for Millenia.

Understanding.

Jaye motioned for him to look up at the clouds.

"Stay in the sun child. It is your greatest weapon."

The kid nodded and Jaye found a small grin creeping across his face. He turned and left. The party had gotten old.

Benji | In An or Something


Benji had been to An a couple times. It was always the same, bright and noisy.

He walked through the crowded streets, wandering aimlessly down through the overworld. The ice cat followed him, hissing ocassionally at other lesser demons and stopping to lick itself.

Perhaps you'll find her here?

Benji banished the thought from his head. He'd already tried that.

Fine. But if not to find her then why go through the portal?

Benji sighed, stopping in his tracks. In his mind's eye he saw the goddess quickly opening the portal as the other held off the dhalku. At least thats what he thought she did. Benji hadnt exactly wanted to stick around. In any case, the voice had hit a nerve. When the portal opened, Benji had caught himself thinking what if.

He looked around vaguely. The world was to big. It was filled to the brim with big people and big things and still so much to worry about.

"Hello."

From behind him, the ice cat hissed, it's "fur" bristling. Then it turned and ran. Benji reached after it, but stopped, feeling as if the voice he'd heard was more pressing.

Benji made a zipping motion across his mouth.

The Dhalku lord stared down at him, his mouth a thin line.


Suddenly, a probe struck at Benji's mind. He flinched, but let it run it's course, seeking out his memories one by one. It unraveled him just little bit, realizing that someone else knew him inside out, but Benji endured nonetheless.

"Stay in the sun child, it is your greatest weapon."

Benji glanced up, surprised. This demon certainly didn't speak like one.

Maybe hes not a demon?

The Dhalku Lord turned and walked away, but no before Benji caught the look on his face.

One of gladness.

The dhalku's eyes were smiling ever so slightly.

Benji sighed, then turned away. Today was becoming weirder and weirder.

He turned, looking for his icy feline. It was under a set of bleachers, basking in the shade. He walked towards it, noticing for the first time the massive stage ahead.

And the person on it.

There was what appeared to be a girl in a red dress speaking to the crowd. Behind her was a series of pots with puckered faces. Benji ignored her and her pottery. He wanted his cat back.

The icy feline came to him, thankfully. Benji stooped to pick it up, then looked back over to the girl on the stage. Something about her enticed him.

"Some of the people affected by discrimination hadn't done anything wrong. Aside, of course, existing. Something that they didn't ask for. Something that I… didn't ask for. Yet here I stand! Attempting to prove to you all that my heart is indeed in the right place......"

Benji peeked around from behind the bleachers, listening to her speak, her voice soft yet stern and powerful yet not overwhelming.

“But now that I think about it, you don't know anything about my heart. I showed you a mere fraction of what I had been through. But I suppose I should show you what I've become because of it.”

He was instantly disinterested. The girl on stage was no doubt either a dhalku or a ghost, and in either case Benji didn't care. She was complaining. It was always better to deal with your problems yourself.

He walked away, moving onwards and upwards thought he didn't know why.