Godhood XIV - Usurper [Jam Edition Turn 4]

The twin dragons gazed upon the burgeoning life of the two worlds that weren't actively exploding with a limited degree of satisfaction. It was a start, they supposed, but no more than that. Abselon shook his head at the sight of the universe's first sapients, the aquatic fish known as the Sirona.

"Not good enough. I hate to agree with Macian, but sickeningly pompous as he is, he's right. How does anyone expect a species to flourish when they cannot even manipulate their own environment more than superficially? They will need appendages. I don't care what type. Arms. Tentacles. Perhaps simply telekinesis. But something must be done. We must take this up with their creator," Abselon declares, attempting to pull the shared divine body in the vagrant's direction but failing miserably.

Dalibora gazed into Abselon's bright orange eyes. "Not so fast," she declared, pointing back to the Sirona. In particular, a young member of the species, trapped upon a craggy peak just a few feet from the water. The pathetic creature, suffocating in the vacuum so close to the water's edge, struggled in a hopeless attempt to wriggle back into the water.

Abselon stared in perplexion. "What point are you trying to make, Dali? You've just proven my point that these creatures are helpless. Perhaps we should simply effect the changes to the species ourselves.

"The point is, nothing awaits them except for oblivion right now. I mean, death is great, but it's a bit harsh to leave them without an afterlife as we spend our power elsewhere. They can manage with a lack of appendages for a little while."

Abselon sighed. "Very well. Just don't go overboard. Our power is quite limited right now."

"When have I ever gone overboard?" Dalibora grinned, stretching her wing out behind her. In a burst of light, a layer of reality imperceptible to all but the divine was willed into existence. Each sapient being's soul would reside on this plane subsequent to their deaths - a rather plain plane for the moment, terrain vague and mountainous. This simplistic afterlife would be called the Realm of Souls. [-6 acts]

"Not bad," Abselon observed. "Simple, but good enough for now. Next time we focus on life, though."

"Fair enough. Now, then, you wanted to speak to the vagrant?"

Abselon found himself face-to-face with Alakim again. After an awkward pause, he began, "...Hello again, vagr- er, Alakim." He gazes to the side, noticing the hyperactive otter apparently distracted by something shiny. Typical. "I wish to discuss with you about the Sirona, as you call them."

He really hoped the otter wouldn't interrupt.