All of it. Stop copying me.

A snap of her fingers, and all that is falls away within the part of the Seknium we reside within; replaced by two figures, one feminine, one masculine, standing in a sea of stars; as Mortigan speaks, they move to the rhythm of her voice.

"Long, long ago, before even ****, there was Light..."

The feminine figure dances about within the stars.

"and there was Dark..."

The masculine figure joins her; their dance among the stars shifting and swaying through an endless cosmos.

"They decided, at some point unknown, to create; and so, they had a child. This child's was the first being to ever have a name; as it would be the one to name its own parents. They named it... Life."

A third androgynous figure joins the duo, which quickly grows from a baby to the size of a full adult.

"Their lust for creation became so great, that they could not keep themselves from doing so. World upon world, species after species, all without a care for what comes after the creation... but Life cared. The worlds were in abject chaos. Predators out numbering prey, only to starve when all was bone. Good and evil in equal measures, ripping apart what had been created with weapons of war; be they magical, or scientific. Species created on worlds that could not hold life, worlds, ripe for living, bare of fauna or flora... and so, Life commited the first sin, and the first virtue."

I could see this figure run after the other two, attempting to hold together the havoc they left in their wake... all for not. It is then that it grasps a hold of a star, collapsing it into a black-hole, and bending it into a new shape.

A scythe.

"Life gave itself a new name, and so, **** was born."

The figure of **** cloaks itself in darkness, true nothingness against the rainbow of colors of nebula and starlight. It reaches its parents, rising its scythe.

A single swing, and the heads of both leave their bodies.

"And so, there was one. Taking the bodies of its parents, it formed our world. With the head of the Light, it formed the sun, and with the head of the Dark, it formed the moon. It was then that It too felt the need it's parents once held, the need to create. To save its creations for itself... it made one figure, and ordered it to bring balance to it's creation. An order of Gods, of Darkness and Light."

**** holds its scythe to its own neck, and pulls. The small figure of it's spawn watching this display of compassion and woe. **** lives up to its name, and fades from being.

"This new creation was the first God. A god of ****, balance, names, sleep, bones, and oh so much more. This God's name... was Mortigan; my namesake."

The space we are within zooms into the surface of the planet itself, watching as this other Mortigan goes out among the life spawning upon its surface, cloaked as her parent was in abject nothingness.

"And so she hunted; hunted for Gods to fill this Pantheon. Men and women of great power, conviction, and of no faith in any but themselves. For only one without faith may be a God. She formed the first Pantheon, the seats of sevens, with herself upon The Joint Throne betwixt their twin warring courts. But all things must end, and all must die; that is our truth. Over the many hundreds of hundreds of thousands of years, gods have been killed, chosen ****, or so on. At times, those in the role of God of **** must cull it all, and leave a spawn to hunt a new Pantheon. This is the end of your little history lesson."

The images show a variety of different versions of a grouping of fifteen people, with the cloaked figure of the God of **** in the middle. Finally it ends its alterations, and I am able to recognize Ariel, Carnachias, and Melanoche among them. I also noticed that the grouping is always the same in one aspect. With each side of the Pantheon having four men, and four women; counting **** as being a part of both. When **** was a woman, there would be four men on each side, and vise versa for the reverse. There are more questions I need to ask.

And so I do, asking. "So, is the current Pantheon about to be culled, 'God Hunter'?"

She sits up from her laying position, smiling at me. "Oh, not at all. My father just likes to be prepared for any situation. As well, knowing that has the OPTION of a full culling gives his absolute authority even more weight. **** must rule all, or chaos will reign."

Satisfied with that answer, I ask more questions. "Who are the current gods? All of them, appearance and all."

The image of the current Pantheon comes closer, Mortigan standing and pointing as she speaks.

"You know those three." Pointing at those I have met personally. "and my father is easy to pick out."

Indeed, a large, thin figure in ever present darkness is there, holding a scythe as a king would hold a scepter.

"So that is four down, eleven to go." She says, pointing to ones I have not the faintest clue of.

She stands on the side of the Dark, and begins to point. "You've heard of this one. Khalthosh, God of madness, forbidden truths, and dark magic. As mortal elves, he and his brother Machae were the greatest wizards of their age; warring on two sides of our eternal war. He nearly lost himself to an all consuming madness after their sister died in a conflict between the two. No one knows whose spell it was that took her life... but the kiss of insanity place on his mind allowed him, and his grudge, to transend mortality."

A giant of a man, whose face is more akin to that of an octopus, with tendrils acting as a beard, and larger ones acting as legs. His fingers are absurdly long and withered; nails sharpened to a point. Contrasting all of this horror is his apparel; dressed in a fine suit, not unlike something Logic would wear on his Us. Despite his face being a mess of tentacles... I can see the sadness in his black, soulless eyes.

At this point, pointing is the assumed status of Mortigan when she speaks, showing another god. "Erunami, the Dark God of Nature. earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, disease, and all the horrors of flora and fauna are his to command. As a mortal minotaur, he was known as the greatest of his kind. Many of them worship him now, despite his protests against such worship. His greatest feat, which led him to being ascended, was when his axe made contact with the ground with such ****, he cleaved the coasts belonging to his people from the mainland, creating the island known as Taurtarus. To see what that strength did in combat to mere men... I couldn't imagine."

The man with the head of a bull was almost as large as the last, wearing furs of majestic beasts sown into a toga; his very essence was horrifying.

A new question came to mind, and so I asked. "So... what did those two do to become gods?"

I point to Mel and Carn... their full names are such a mouthful; brainful even.

Mortigan begins to speak, interrupting my dislike of these hard to pronounce names. "Ah, they were street urchins. Two cast off daughters of a whore and a nobleman. They rose to power through an organized crime network so complex, so cruel, and so terrifying, that they made themselves the Queens of that now dead Kingdom of Krow in under a decade. Their first act as rulers? The **** of their father and his noble line... but only after Carnachias had all of their legions of men do some unspeakable acts to them. That pales in comparison to their first acts as Gods, being that of burning the entierty of their own kingdom to naught but ash; an orgy of blood held on its remains."

A visible shudder goes down Mortigan's spine; mine as well.

She points to another Dark god, but not before saying. "Thank you for not taking their offer, while the balance is too far in the Light's favor as of now, I would prefer the Dark to balance it with a natural disaster or plague. Its why I quite fancy that Erunami... that and his muscles."

Continuing where she left off. "This is Sanket; or Sinking Sanket, as he prefers. God of Blood, Sacrifice, and Desecration. He was once a mere vampire; a common thread for this godly line. His time as a 'mortal' man was long, and full of suffering; both his, and his victims. Most of it, as you can tell by his choice of clothing, was as a pirate of sorts; stealing vita as well as treasure. When he was caught after centuries of theft and ****, he was tortured; for near just as long as punishment by the aformentioned Kingdom of Krow. He wanted nothing less than to drown the world in blood by the end, and my father granted him a chance to do something akin to that."

While tall, the man in question was towered over by the last two Dark Gods, leaving his at just below my height; prehaps Six'Three. His gun-powder coated skin was pale as the moon; eyes red as his favored drink. His raven black hair was an utter mess, with his pointed beard and mustache being not much better. His sooty blouse had two dirty flintlock pistols strapped to them, coated in dirt and dry blood. His boots were the cleanest part of his attire; contrasting his burnt trousers, held up by a fine belt which held the sheaths to a set of curved blades.

"Only two more Dark ones, goddesses at that." She shows a points towards a woman with familiar features. "The Goddess of greed, theft, and hording."

I'm in love... what!? No! Shut it, dragon-brain-thing!

Mortigan tells the story of this thieving temptation. "She was once a great dragon, whose birth element was that of earth. She roamed the world, using her inherit gifts, be they her magic, her body, or her wit, to take anything and everything she wanted. It is said that even when polymorphed, as dragons tend to do, she could commands all the sacks of gold in a city to simply walk, one by one in single-file out of their owners lock boxes. Her feat which granted her godhood was when she stole the daughter of the Midian Sultan; a line of royal mortals whose very flesh is gold. While stealing one girl may sound easy, the Midians have armies that make the horde raised by Carnachias look like nothing more than a litter of pups. That girl, even now, is her held in the hells that this goddess calls home; I heard the two are quite the cute couple when I last spoke to my father on the subject."

I think for a bit... wait a second.

"What's her name?" I ask, trying my hardest not to stare at her image in this dreamscape.

Mortigan smacks herself on the back of the head. "Ah. Dragons, much like gods, have many, many names. Although none but my father know her first, true name, I heard her favorite is Zetra. Anyway, as you may have guessed, she is quite revered by others of her kind. She also is the only member of the current Pantheon older than my father; not as a god, mind you. Dragons are, in essence, immortal. They cannot age beyond their prime; only grow wiser, and stronger. She must be absolutely ancient."

Before me was a gorgeous, tanned woman, with golden scales lacing her body as my own scales do. She is dressed in fine purple silks that just barely cover her more private regions, golden clasps holding to together. Her fine, clawed hands have multiple rings on each finger, with her ring finger on her right hand having but one, simple, bronze band... strange. Her hair, a vibrant, lush brown, and is shortened on the sides, with what remains grown having done so to great lengths, reaching near to her tail. Speaking of which, her tail is much like my own, a slick, slender body, topped by a pom of fur, matching that of the hair on her head. Her eyes though, are what truely make her otherworldy beautiful, shining like gleaming amethysts... I can see why other dragons worship such a...

treasure.

I get a poke in the side from Mortigan, before she continues. "Finally for the Dark half of the Pantheon, Tenekura. Goddess of disorder, illusions, fear, and corruption."

I look around for this Goddess... and have to look down quite a bit.

Quiiiite a bit.

Oh... She's only a few inches tall.

****'s daughter begins to describe the tiny terror goddess. "A traitor to the Light, this Fae had single handedly sown utter destruction among the Fae Courts with her illusions, lies, and slander. The multitude of fairy civil wars across the 'time of wingless hatred' were all due to her. Her 'greatest' accomplishment was causing the wholesale genocide of an entire third of the fae populace, by forcing them all into a mass psychosis with a single Song, the likes of which has never been since. The being more hated than her by the Fae is... Ariel... the poor thing."

Tenekura would fit in the palm of my hands, her small figure boasting very little in the way of things Urge would annoy me talking about; even taking proportions into account. Her means of dress seamed to be stitching the petals of strange flowers into a fine, dark purple gown. Her wings were like that of a butterfly, the pattern of which was very... hypnotic. If I weren't already dreaming, I feel as though it's patterns would lull me to sleep.

Taking a deep breath after having emptied her lungs for what seems like hours, Mortigan asks. "Any questions? We're almost done. Just the Light left, and you already know Ariel, so that's just six gods to go through."

I stretch out, feeling as though I need sleep.

In my own dream.

Ugh. I ask. "What about your father? What's his story?"

She smiles, saying. "Ooo, that's a good one."

The image of the Pantheon as a whole fades, leaving just Ihsrom. Mortigan walks up to his imposing, dark visage.

And removes the cloak, revealing an entirely average looking man in pajamas.

"Why not ask him yourself? Hi Dad!"