5:10 I Do Not Like What He Does To You

I repeatedly had to stop the other Origin Deities from interfering with my kids, not because of maliciousness but because of sheer curiosity.

I understood their stances, but I should have made it more explicit that directly talking to Alexander, Reika, Keilan, or Elvira, or even Morgan, was off limits. Even just thinking about it set me on edge; and every time I felt one of them try to approach the budding universes, alarm bells started ringing. They were too young. Too fragile. Too susceptible to influence.

So I did the only thing I could do. Set barriers around the universes to keep them out. Temporary barriers, more meant to warn them off, like hazard tape around a crime scene.

Reilly was perhaps the most disappointed of them that I did this, but at the end of the day, I didn't overmuch care. Their protection came first and foremost.

The visit soon turned less into a field trip for them and more into a discussion of trade, as I had been hoping it would. There were no formal discussions, no sitting around a table talking about supply lines and stuff, not that I was even certain that was how it would work, but we did speak at length about what each universe could offer each other. And, even as we spoke and wandered my cluster, my budding multiverse, I could feel things opening up around us.

Pathways being made between universes, the power that had built barriers around and between us shifting, flowing up and around everyone and everything, to create a greater barrier around all of us and blocking my sight from the multiverse at large. What little I could see and sense before was now completely gone, even though the bulk of my mind was focused heavily on that process; the barrier being unwound, then wound tighter around the now nine distinct universes.

That had to be the Cocoon Protocol.

Interesting that Mr. Boxes had decided to allow us to interact with each other and yet blocked us off even more from the multiverse at large. As if we hadn't already been separated from it enough. I mean, sure, if I really tried, I could have previously seen through the wards and barriers Mr. Boxes had set up. But last time I did that by accident, he reprimanded me.

What was it that he didn't want us to see? Or, probably more accurately, what didn't he want me to see? Because that was the real question, wasn't it? What was it that he didn't want to affect me, more so than what he didn't want me to personally see or do?

I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. But no matter how many times I asked, he did not answer. Or maybe I was just not asking the right question. Which left me with only the other Origin Deities to bother, and be bothered by.

The other Origin Deities constantly buzzed about, the Oshun doing her best to give me some leeway and mitigate the worst of their rambling about, but she was also busy trying to figure out her own needs.

Nyxteria was the most obnoxious of all. The great space bird always seemed to be where my attention was focusing the most, space and time warping around it to make it so. I couldn’t even stop the damnable bird, as it wasn’t warping the space or time of my universes, but rather its own space and time. It was something I would eventually have to build defenses for. Probably. It was paranoia talking, but was worth a look.

"Can Nyxteria have your attention?" It asked. And I, disembodied attention as I was, currently atop a mountain of the One World, looking down at a crack that had formed, did my best impression of a frown.

"No, you may not take a piece of my attention and put it in one of your time crystals," I declined.

It clacked its beak. "Shame. How about now?"

"No. No in the past. No in the future. No in the present. Behave thyself, bird," I tried, knowing its patience was probably infinitely longer than mine, because it had infinite time to spend bugging me. However, I was Infinite, so it didn’t matter.

It let out a sound I took as a cackle. "Ok! Then Nyxteria will trade you space and time, the kind that you need, in exchange for a bit of your density."

"My density?" I asked.

"Yes. Density. Nyxteria just needs a sample. Nyxteria's is all flaky, like bread. Yours isn't." I really peered at Nyxteria then, trying to judge what the bird was saying. Its entire existence was layers and layers of space, just like it had said, folded in on top of each other. If I had to put it into a word: its power was very much like a croissant. Whereas when I turned to look at myself, it was more like Damascus steel, folded a thousand times over. The Oshun’s power is loose, like feathers. Mine dense, like steel. Nyxteria’s flaky, like a croissant. What an odd collection of images. I mused.

"I see what you're saying now. But I would have to see what kind of space." I told it, hesitant to immediately agree to anything.

And then Nyxteria was holding it up in one taloned claw. A tiny green gem. A time crystal. And I saw the space which it was talking about.

"You have space to grow. You need more than just that. Nyxteria would know. There’s all kinds of space." It said, and I frowned, considered it, then frowned harder as the implications set in.

The damn bird was right. The space it presented was an example of exactly what I needed; purposeless space. Space that could be explored, could be twisted and changed. Could be anything, or nothing, and made into something by anyone and anything.

I turned to look at the spaces I existed in. The Four Realms. The false void between the Four Realms and the One World, within which my children's universes now grew. The faux Void that was slowly being filled with Sehuyun's universe, and space made for my lungs. That's exactly what all this space had become; space to grow, for me and my kids and everyone else. And because of that, said space was too laden with my intent that it was no longer…pure. Like soil with too much of one kind of nutrient; not bad enough to kill anything, but certainly not ideal.

Has that been my problem the entire time?

"Fine. Gimme. Here." I relented, shearing off a thin layer of my “density.” Just a bit of power, enough for Nyxteria to get a good look. I tossed it at the bird, this thin shred of power made manifest as a golden string.

It snatched it out of the air and promptly stuffed it into a crystal before tossing the one it had been showing me into the air, as I was non-physical in this space. With a slight flicker of will, the crystal vanished and reappeared in my palace in the Four Realms, where another incarnation of me was chatting with Randus. That incarnation caught the crystal, looked at it, and promptly set it to the side to be studied at our leisure.

I turned back to Nyxteria, the bird already halfway through a shift in space to catch my attention again; half its beak already in my palace, the rest of its body where we had been. And I told it what it was missing, because it had shown me part of what I was.

"What you, ironically, are lacking is what I had too much of. Intent. To fill your space and time with your intent, not just that emptiness that can let it become whatever it will be in time, and then take what you need when it appears. You are a collector, Nyxteria, not a gardener, and I am not suggesting you become a gardener to makes what they want. But even a collector knows where their favorite things grow." I advised.

The bird squawked, ruffled its wings, clacked its beak, and accepted my words with a dip of its head and a hop-step that told me it was done chasing my attention, already searching for other things.

I settled back a little bit, and kept a watchful eye on all those Origins running amok.

Thankfully, no one seemed to want to cause too much trouble.

*

I bid the other Origins farewell as they left my universes, even though incarnations of mine were accompanying a few of them back to their realms. This was farewell to my true self, after all, the universes that were now my body. Statera’s Heavens? No, that didn’t sound right either.

The Oshun stayed with me for just a moment.

"Reilly has agreed to shelter me," she said softly to the incarnation I had set in front of the portal back to the meeting room. "So has the Emperor. I will stay with them for a time, and see which I will take refuge with for my healing" I laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Oshun. I wish you the best. Remember, you are always welcome back here. Just try not to go crazy next time, okay? Besides, this is not quite farewell. I will be sending some incarnations with you." It was a joke in poor taste, but she laughed anyway.

"Yes. I will try not to go too crazy. These past few years have been good to me, but I think some time away will be just what I needed." And then she was gone, back to the meeting room alongside the most of the others. And now only a few remained.

Rising Wind, Crashing Waves stood at the edge of what had been Sehuyun's body, the great stag staring at it with a complicated expression, while the First, the Rival, Licht, and S all explored the Four Realms.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Part of me wanted to get them all out of there, save for the Rival. But I was also not going to just kick them all out. Not yet, at least. So instead I descended to Rising Wind, Crashing Waves. Without actually speaking, I asked for his thoughts.

"I had thought," the great stag said, still gazing at the primordial ball of stuff that had been Sehuyun, laden with draconic intent that it was. "That I would be okay with this fate. I treated the hunt as a game I sought to win. My own creations hunt me for sport, and I treated it as a game. I believed I could overcome death — that if this form of mine vanished, I would become more." At this, he looked at me. "There is wisdom in knowing when to let go of what is obsolete, just as there is wisdom in knowing when to let all things grow. But now, standing here, looking at this, I cannot help but fear that I would be the one to fall, not the one to rise."

At this he nodded at Sehuyun, and then at me, respectively. There was nothing I could really say to that. If I was being honest, we did not know each other all that well. But if he believed it, I would believe it to be true.

"Makes me wonder how I would transcend death. Because you were not so much killed as reborn. And I would most certainly die." He continued, shaking his head.

"Less reborn, more realized. This is an evolution I had been reaching for since my birth as an Origin Deity," I countered. "Albeit, one I had not known fully existed, and in a manner I had not expected or intended. If I were to argue with you about it, I would say — indeed, I did not die, though a part of me most certainly did. My evolution, as you call it, was forced. It is not what I would have been. It is not what I could have been. And yet I cannot imagine a time in which I would not choose to become it again. Simply because that was how the dominoes fell. Sometimes we are forced to change by things outside of our control," I told him.

He nodded sagely and turned away from Sehuyun's body, eyes twinkling with mirth and understanding.

"It is one thing when I say it to another. It is quite another thing when it is said to me by another Origin. An equal — because I will not call you greater, or myself lesser," he said, tossing his head, shaking his horns, elemental power surging through him.

"So proud," I teased. "Is that something a stag of wisdom should be saying?"

And as I said it, I realized the hint I had just given him. The nature of the Shadow he had been feeling creeping up his spine like a sickness, now plain as day to me, still slightly blinding him. He had cast off his pride to become wise — and his body, that of a proud stag, was a hint.

"Indeed," he said. "Thank you. I will ruminate on this. If you don't mind, I would stay here a bit longer. At least this shard of me. And if you so wish, I would gladly welcome you in a walk in my world."

I sent him a small pulse of acceptance, the stag shuddering.

"That is strange to feel. You speak from everywhere and nowhere, and your emotions and acceptance come out from wherever. Thank you, Statera."

And I was gone, or, well, not gone, but the bulk of my attention was.

Now I focused in on the First. The Rival. Licht and S — the Light and the Shadow both — had finished their walk, and were now returning to their universe, the First slowly following them. The Rival was concerned about him for many reasons, I could see the emotions rolling off of my friend in waves, but I wasn’t as concerned. The First was…nothing. Deliberately so. An open hand that did not clench no matter what settled on it.

And the Rival was baited into it perfectly, poking at him, trying to get him to move and failing simply because the First did not want to catch him. I frowned as I read a touch deeper into the Rival's soul, actually focusing on it rather than letting it slide away. Not fully. That would be mean, and go beyond the trust I had extended to him and him to me. Just the outer layer that no matter what I did, I couldn't not see, unless I purposefully became a lesser thing.

He was vibrating. This new god of conflict that had arisen in my realm was vibrating like a tuning fork. All of his energy, all of his mind and thoughts focused totally on the First, all his energy directed at him, tense and ready to move the moment the First did. I scowled. He reminded me of an addict, waiting for his next high. That…would not do.

I swooped in, an incarnation forming between the two, glancing once at the First, then meeting the Rival's eyes.

"All right, time's up. I have something for you to do. Come on," I said, waving my hand, ushering him along. The Rival froze, looking up at me, brows furrowed, not even a flirty quip at the ready. That, frankly, just made me even more mad. "Say bye to your friend, Rival. We're going. Come on."

"Hey now, come on. I'm trying to—" he started.

"I know what you're trying to do. It's okay. Let it go. I have things I need you to do. I am asking for your help. You are the one who wanted to become a god of my universe. You should know that divinity does come with duties." I interrupted.

The Rival frowned at me. "You're actually asking for help."

Even the First spoke up, amused and concerned in equal measure. "You're actually asking for his help. But you know he's just gonna screw it up, right?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it," I replied dryly. "What's his whole purpose, after all, isn’t it? Conflict. Inspired in others, inspired in where it needs to be and sometimes where it’s not. And in many ways, that conflict can be seen as a failure, no? Yet failure and mistakes can be inspiring. Ready?" I pressed once again.

The Rival tapped his chin, a small smile spreading across his lips. "So you're saying you need me?" Ah, there it was. Just a sliver of his usual self coming out.

He turned on his heel with a flourish, bowing to the First dramatically. “Well, my friend, this is farewell. My lady needs me. You know, come to think of it — you two do have met before. Remember my therapist, Sylvia, from Earth? When I was a rock and roll star and you were my bassist?" The comment sparked a small memory of said bassist, who left no impression on me back then, but I let it go.

"No," the First said. "Bye."

“Ah, shame. She was lovely. Farewell! Take me away, Stat!” The Rival cried, and I did not hesitate. With a wave of my hand he was gone, whisked away to the Physical Realm in the Four Realms. Turning to the First once, I tipped my hat to him, metaphorically speaking, and let him go do his own thing. He was a disaster waiting to happen, but so long as I did not touch it, and kept me and mine away from him, it would not come to me.

Still, I kept an eye on him until he, too, left my universes, teleporting with my aid to the portal back to the meeting room and his “home universe.”

And then that incarnation of mine, too, was gone, and I reappeared in the heart of the Four Realms, where I had deposited the Rival in a field. The same field where he had once ascended to immortality, changed now — no longer so golden of grasses, and with a monument of him erected in its place. A reminder of where someone had passed my trials to ascend, built by mortals he had never met. He stared up at it, stroking his chin with an amused smirk.

"Well, that's quite the depiction of me. They didn't get the handsomeness quite right. But, you know mortals. They can only touch the divine, not actually grasp it. So, what's this thing you need me to do?" he asked, cracking his knuckles eagerly.

"Sit," I said.

"You want me on my knees?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I sighed heavily, set a hand on his shoulder, and pushed him down, much to his delight. But I was in no mood, actually, to blush and stammer at his flirtyness.

"I don't like your friend," I told him bluntly.

"I told you you wouldn't." he said, settling into a lotus position.

"I don't like him because of what he does to you," I corrected.

"I —" the Rival started.

"The way you obsess over him is concerning," I interrupted. "Everything you are becomes focused upon him, your entire existence narrowed to a pinprick. I’ve tried the gentle path, so now I am giving it to you bluntly. You are more than that. So what I need you to do is sit here and disconnect from him. Do not think of him. Do not — do not even try and touch whatever he represents until you are back to being just you," I said firmly.

"Are you getting jealous?" the Rival asked, a smile half dead on his lips.

"Call it whatever you like," I told him. "But as your friend, please just hear my words. You're going to fight me on this. I get that it's conflicting for you, that you have spent so much time chasing him. But you were almost there until this meeting happened, and you saw him again, to some realization that’s been building within you since you arrived in the Four Realms, and the moment you saw him that realization retreated into the depths of your soul where you could try to smother it. So I need you to sit here and reflect, and disconnect. Get away from it all."

I knelt in front of him. "You are allowed to drop toxic things. You are allowed at times to be selfish. So please, listen to my selfishness. If not the truth in it, then just the words. Because I fear he is the one holding you back."

"I know he is," the Rival snapped. "But it's my duty." He took a deep breath. "You wouldn't understand."

"No," I agreed. "I wouldn't. I'm just a universe. A silly god, who doesn't want to watch my friend in pain. Self-inflicted pain, might I add." I stood, dusting off my robes that didn’t need dusting. "I'll be around if you need me."

And I teleported away, leaving the Rival with his thoughts. That scowl on his lips. Knowing that he may listen to me, or may not. I dearly hoped he did. I frowned at the little weird feeling within me that I had not yet identified, before shoving it away for other matters. Leaving it as concern for my friend.

There were things to do and people to see.

*

In the First's opinion, the funniest thing about doing nothing was that everyone seemed to have very strong opinions on it. And sometimes doing nothing scared people.

The Rival was one such example. He was someone who liked it best when he, the First, was doing something. When he sat down and did nothing, that drove the man — that soul that clung to him like a parasite — mad with worry. Reasonably so, because from a state of nothing, the First could suddenly become and do anything at any moment. Which is why the Rival tended to stay so close, so that if the First twitched or shifted his attention, he would be ready to give chase the moment he moved. An annoying habit, but one the First had learned to account for.

On the other hand, there were some other things that took his nothing as interesting. Licht and S, for example, treated him as a neutral party, a solid rock they could use as a wall between their conflicts. Whereas the Oshun quickly grew bored of him, picking him up and examining him like a shiny rock on the road, only to throw it away — because in her eyes it looked like just a neat rock.

The most satisfying of all, however, was when somebody, something, took a bite.

There were two things that did that to him this time.

The first was, predictably, a machine. Like any intelligent machine did, it wanted to understand, observe, grow, and categorize, in that beautiful way that order could be. Its drone came up to him, studied and examined him, and left behind a little thing to continue to study him. And he sat there and observed it, and it observed him, and he did nothing about it, and it wondered why.

That was the first bite.

The second was a bit more of a surprise, though he supposed it shouldn't have been. Because if you wanted to catch a butterfly, then the easiest way was either with a net, or to let it land on you by sitting still. And it, chaotic little thing that it was, had done this without hardly anyone noticing. Hell, even he almost didn't notice, it was so quick — tasting his energy like nectar and taking it back to its universe.

And that was the second bite.

He now had two things on his string. Just a simple fisherman, without a hook or bait, and two things had already come to him.

Still he did nothing. Even as he returned to the corpse of a dead Origin, and resumed sitting at the edge of what had once been a vein, to continue fishing. He let it sit, because the Overgod was still watching. But they both knew now what was going to come. If they made the choice, he would finally move. Because they were not wise enough, not old enough, not experienced enough, and they would stumble and make that mistake even though they should know better. Such was the trouble with freewill, beautiful and terrible thing that it was. In his opinion, only certain people should even have freewill.

Still, he wasn’t looking forward to it. He did not want to have to punish these children.

But if the time came, he would.

When it came.