Chaotic Craftsman Worships The Cube

In his realm watching down at the world, Quox lounged around, feeling content in the amount of faith he had, even if it would never be enough for his taste. When his world had fallen he’d made the only reasonable choice and ran, having heard the rumours of this one from a void god he encountered and fled to it, hoping to find new believers and new strength, but things hadn’t worked out that smoothly.

When he’d arrived he was almost immediately exiled, told he’d be forbidden from gaining followers until he proved his worth in the invasion they all knew would eventually come, an act that still had his fur bristling even millennia later.

And just because I only saved myself of all things! Honestly, those self-righteous bastards think they’re so much better than us just because they saved a few of their people. We’re gods! Our believers live to serve us, not the other way around. I’m sure my people felt truly blessed to give all they had for me in their final moments, why should I be villainized for it?

He did his best to push the thoughts away as he always did any time he got like this. It didn’t matter. Even if it was small, even if he had to share it with others, the amount of faith he had was growing, and they’d all managed to keep it a secret from those judging gods. Things would be tight, but soon they’d be able to put their final plan into action, they just needed to be patient.

The fall of this world was coming, it was a fact they all knew. With the invasion so close to their doorsteps they just needed to gather as much faith as they could while they could, and if they were extremely lucky then they’d be able to use it to escape this doomed world once things got too bad. Sure, it would leave them in a bad state, but there were ways for them to adapt, to survive, they’d just need to gain all they could by the second wave as they ran for it.

After all, the others are so insistent on doing what they can and never gave us the respect we deserve, who cares how they die in the end. I’ll go on, and it’s always the survivors who record history.

Just thinking of a coming future where those who oppressed him were destroyed filled him with glee, a far nicer fantasy to experience than any memory of the past, and with nothing else to do he could have enjoyed hours of it, at least until another god came into his realm, gripped in panic.

“Quox, this is bad! This is so so bad! Oh falling stars we’re so fucked!” The god Haro screamed as he got there, much to Quox’s annoyance. The fly like god was always panicky and a pain to deal with overall, but they were also co-conspirators, more deeply bound than he’d ever willingly be if he felt like he had a choice in the matter.

“Damn it Haro, what is it now? Can’t you see I’m trying to relax?”

That got his attention, making him get up despite himself. “There’s no way. They weren’t able to find out even after the invader incident, they can’t know now.”

“Well, something’s happening! They’re trying to be secretive about this but I know a couple of them are actually going to descend upon the world! You know they wouldn’t fucking do that before the invasion if it wasn’t something big!”

“Infinite hells! Get the others, we need to sort this out now,” Even if he didn’t particularly like the other god, he knew he wouldn’t be wrong about something like this, even if it threw all of their plans into disarray, and so close to the end of things too.

It’s okay, it’s okay, we can still make this work. We might not be able to gather as much faith as we could otherwise, but as long as the numbers are culled and bodies are disposed of we’ll make it through this, we just need to act.

In his village, Toltho walked around greeting everyone he saw. The tents that made up their homes were spread between the trees as those without any tasks to do were on their knees giving what faith they could, with only a few children playing as they ran up to him, excitement plain on their faces as one spoke up.

“Toltho, Toltho! The great voice spoke to me! I’ve gained a level to my stealth!”

“Really? Isn’t that wonderful,” He said happily as he placed his scaled hand on the child's head, ruffling his fur as he did.

“Yep! One day I’m going to be just as great as you, just watch!”

“Haha, I can’t wait to see it! Just remember, I have more to me than just my invisibility, try and find the magic that suits you as well and grow in all areas, and above all give your thanks to the five.”

“I know,” The child said hesitantly as he cast his eyes to the adults around who weren’t busy with hunting, gathering, or caring for the young, meaning they had something more important to do than rest, they had to pray.

Toltho could see right through them, understanding their worries as he chuckled. “I know this may not seem too great to young ones such as yourselves, I remember feeling the same, but it’s important they do this, as it’s important you do as well when you get a little older. If the gods don’t get faith then the voice can’t give us its blessing. The trees won’t grow and the sun won’t rise. We give all we can so that they can share this beauty with us.”

They all nodded along, happy to accept what they were told except for one young girl in the back. “How do we know?”

“Hmm?”

“How do we know all that stuff? Everyone says it, but the sun greets us each day and we always eat.”

He felt his smile slip only briefly, not out of anger, but from the small part of him that felt the same. Even still, he pushed whatever bit of doubt he had away. It would do him no good to think on it when he held such an important role.

“Yes child, the sun is always there, but there have been times food has grown scarce, hasn’t there? That’s always when we haven’t prayed deeply enough, an act that causes our own suffering in the end. You know the gods cry any time a single one of us hurts or starves, that’s why we must work so hard to give them what they need to maintain this beautiful world.”

The girl seemed happy enough with his answer and the children went on their way, off to play and pray before one of those two acts took up so much of their life as he continued on his rounds, nodding at the other four priests as he passed them until he made his way to the hold, the spot that the lesser ones where kept.

As he stared at them he couldn’t help but notice their similarities to his own people as he always did. They both shared the same violet eyes and red scales, even if his own were restricted to his legs and arms while theirs covered them, not to mention the difference to their body types. While all of his kind were uniform and bipedal, the lesser ones seemed to vary with every birth, and that wasn’t to mention the difference in their intelligence.

At least as long as none turn into wise ones.

Just the memory of the last time that happened threatened to make his thoughts spiral. It was the only time in his life that such a mistake had occurred, with the lesser ones typically being culled before they could ever reach that point, but when it had it had been a nightmare. Breaking out and taking as many of the lesser ones as they could, killing the few of his own people that were around to try and get in the way, he couldn’t help but wonder at times why they kept such dangerous things. Sure, they were easily trained and could help with their hunts, and they were a good decoy to use in the event a strange one got too close, but he couldn’t help but think that on a fundamental level there was something wrong with them, a joy they took in hunting and slaughtering that made it hard to believe that they’d truly been made by their gods to help them, and all the more so from what he remembered from the escape.

He’d always been told the strange ones were made by an evil god of the world who would hunt and kill them all if they weren’t careful, the lesser ones made to protect them as they ran to safety, but that hadn’t seemed like what had happened when the wise one was born. It had caused chaos as it escaped and seemed to seek out the strange ones to attack, with the ones he saw doing everything they could to save each other. Was that truly the act of creatures from an evil god?

He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. His gods wouldn’t have told them that if it wasn’t the truth, he was just too small to understand whatever had happened. The five were the pillars of their lives and absolute.

Doing his best to distract himself, he continued on with his rounds as he went, until the voice of the one he devoted himself to filled his head with more worry to his voice than he’d ever heard before.

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