“These are not terms of peace,” spat Jovios. “This would be surrender.”

Resting the quill down on the scarred mahogany table I leant back in my chair, watching as the deity’s face contorted and frowned reading and re-reading the short length of parchment presented to him. “Call it what you will, it is an end to this conflict.” I advised.

Locks of ashen white hair floated as if suspended underwater as his slender figure rose and paced around the plateau, puffs of umber tinged dust erupting under heavy steps. Neutral ground was hard to find but it made the location of our engagement oddly fitting. Cracked earth extended as far as the eye could see with various shades of orange and maroon forming great plates across the mesa. Neither stem or bud could root in the desolate waste.

“Laima has seen what becomes of our planes, I know that to be a fact.” I brushed off the small piles of sand accumulating in the table’s cracks. “It will be millennia before a true order re-emerges. By which time, you will have lost the final sparks of your Godlihood.”

Turning sharply the deity’s right fist coiled in a lethal arc toward me, flashes of crimson lightning rippling up his bulging forearm. My short crop of hair was tussled by the sudden gust, accompanied by the slight tingle on my cheek as if I had accidentally brushed against a nettle bush. “Traitor.” Hissed the breathless Jovios, slumping down into his chair.

“It’s a shame,” I mused. “When I was your ward, I watched you decimate legions of knights for your beloved Sophilian tribesmen. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the putrid concoction of charred flesh and melted bronze.”

Through laboured breaths he locked eyes with me, “What have you done to me..? I cannot hear them.” The weak voice whispered.

“Yes… I never quite knew what you meant by that.” I responded, pushing up from my seat to loom over the fallen God. “Though you could hear, in your own hubris you refused to listen to them. It’s no matter now of course, I will take care of them for you.” Extending my index finger a surging store of energy boiled in my chest. As I willed it up to my shoulders, down to my elbow, and finally to burst forth from my fingertip, an overwhelming sensation of ecstasy forced my knees to buckle.

A great clap echoed from plateaus for miles around, ringing out in the lifeless expanse. The bolt left charred shadows behind us. Mine long and proud, squared shoulders and erect posture forever imprinted on the stone. Jovios’ a meek ball, curled under the chair with his head between his knees.

“Laima,” I called out to the cloudless sky. “I know you are there. Tell the others of what happened here. Next time, send a delegate who is willing to speak of peace.”

"This God is dead!" You shout from the steps of Heaven's visitor center, "and we have killed him!"

Down below, the fifty-strong crowd of college freshmen cheer, and roar, and spit coffee-rich loogies up to the bloody body of the building's greeter God. One of the freshmen has carried an empty turtle shell with them, all the way from Earth, stolen out of the biology hall's display case. This furious student now straddles the dead body and brings the shell down over and over against the God's skull.

"Turtles!" He shouts with each swing, "All! The! Way! Down!"

"What the heck's going on out here?" Asks an attendant from the visitor center's main entrance. They wear a sun hat under their halo and a name tag on their blue sweater, robin egg, though the script the name is written in is illegible. The look of mild annoyance in their faces washes away to horror as they notice the body on the marble steps.

"My God!" Shouts the angel. "What did you do to him?"

"We didn't do it," snickers one of the Philosophy-101 students. "He created a stone so big that it crushed him!"

You and your hoard of teenagers laugh manically, though you don't exactly understand the joke.

"Why would you do this?" cries the angel. "He was just a kind, retired old God looking to do something with his free time. What has he done to deserve this?"

"What did we do to deserve him?" asked someone from the back.

"Wait, I recognize you," says the angel. "You're that bitter little God from the city counsel meeting, shouting at everyone about monotheism! I thought you'd moved to another afterlife."

"It doesn't end here!" You turn to face your new followers. "It's time for Regenisis! It's time for an Unholy Crusade! Let's give these Gods a taste of their own genocide!"

The class cheers again and follows you through the streets of heaven. They carry their pocket watch assembly manuals, their pipes that are just pipes, their chickens and eggs, and many other half-understood thought experiments into battle, through every public service building and God training center in town, through every court room and cosmic laboratory. You and fifty dedicated young minds over-rationalize your way into killing every modern, hipster God in town who are too loving not to turn the other cheek. You bring the Old Testament back on the new guards, until you are the last God in heaven.

Your followers celebrate their victory with a book burning in the town square, though, after starting the fire, no one can come to an agreement on which books to burn. So you carry a box of old phone books from the office of the dead God Mayor. The names of all the old God citizens fill the pages, and you and your disciples tear them out, page by page, to feed to the flames.

A few of the women in your class call back to vague pagan traditions they found on Google and decide to strip down and dance around the bonfire.

As the excitement dies down, you pull a wooden crate before the fire and rise to address the crowd.

"I thank you all for your devotion in dismantling this intellectual paradox."

You are met with enthusiastic whoops, claps, and whistles.

"Now that the reign of these defunct deities has passed, it's time to usher in a new universe, with one God, one voice, one ruler of creation to define the trajectory of existence!"

You receive one soft set of claps, which quickly shrinks away to nothing as it realizes no others will join it.

"As a. . ." You clear your throat. "Well, of course, as a cool God. A ruler of the universe that can let go of the steering wheel once in a while, let the universe run itself sometimes and see how it goes . . . A God that doesn't need a bunch of praise, or even, you know, can just be left alone up here in heaven as they watch you all just . . . doing your thing, and-"

"Let's get him!" Yells the turtle shell wielder.

And so your new followers pull you off your soap box. Despite your willingness to fight back, they force your hands behind your back and tie you to a wooden post. As you swing wildly from giving threats to promises to cries to bargains to hurdling furious curses down on all their heads, the students carry the post by its ends over to the roaring fire.

You realize this was all a bad idea, that you should have never showed up to the city counsel meeting, that you should have just payed the levee tax on postage stamps and gone about your day.

You accept that this is your death, and you've left no one behind you can pray to.

I'm new here, but I'm on a 20 day steak. If you liked this and want more, the other 19 are at r/FarFetchedFiction

Thanks.

The days Jovi, the god of of tricks, spent down with the mortals were the worst days of his eternal life.

“How can humans suffer so much, yet still persist on?” He wondered. “If the other gods won’t get off their asses to help those that worship us, then I will make them.”

Jovi started forming a plan immediately. How can a group of mortals intend to defeat the Gods of Hilam, one may wonder.

Simple: Tricks.

And trick them he did. It was not hard for the Gods of Helam have grown dumb and lazy over the many years of peace in Helam. This should not be confused with peace on earth, which is nonexistent.

The plan was simple, Jovi would continue on like nothing happened, but during his free time he would sow the seeds of dissension amongst his fellow gods.

“It likely wont take long.” He thought, amused and smiling at how clever he was.

Within 3 days the gods were at each others throats. Jovi knew all the right buttons to push. Spending an eternity with his fellow gods had its share of perks.

With the gods distracted, Jovi leads an army of mortals to the base of Helam Mountain, into the home of the gods. The battle was swift and decisive, with Jovi leading the mortals to victory.

The gods would be back, as they were immortal, but when they come back, they will find Helam Mountain has new residents with fancy new warding that will keep even the strongest of gods out.

Looking around at all his slain kin, Jovi can’t help but smile.

[removed]

Just a general sypnosis, but yeah:

The story of the banished god and his journey in the temporary world begins with his exile as a mortal to learn humility. Despite the harsh conditions he faced in this new world, the former god adapted and rose to prominence. He established himself as a leader in a cultivation-like society, training a group of powerful generals who were limited by their mortal status.

The former god's determination and hard work paid off as he eventually achieved ascension, becoming a God Sovereign. With the help of his generals, who were bound to him through a spiritual mark, the God Sovereign was able to win a decisive battle in the All-might, heavenly divine world. This victory cemented his position as the ruler of all new gods who ascended, with those who refused facing dire consequences

However, the God Sovereign's rule was not meant to be permanent. According to prophecy, a Supreme-child blessed by fate would arrive to challenge the God Sovereign's reign. This child would eventually dethrone the God Sovereign and surpass him in both glory and strength, becoming the supreme ruler of the All-might, heavenly divine world.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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