And It All Falls Down

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"What is it that you seek, priestess?" The maddened king's voice slithered through the air, cold and menacing as he loomed over the woman before him.

"Do you grasp the gravity of your actions? To challenge a deity carries unfathomable consequences," she replied, her voice quaking with fear, desperate to distance herself from his insanity.

"You were far less concerned about consequences when you were lost in ecstasy, begging for my touch," he retorted, a sneer twisting his lips as he spat upon the ground.

"You have not only shattered my trust but have also ensnared me with your treachery, drugging me and binding me with a curse," she accused, her eyes blazing with defiance, yet the king merely erupted into a thunderous laugh. With a brutal grip, he seized her, his fingers digging into her flesh, a cruel reminder of the forbidden magic he wielded. She felt the weight of his power, rendering her helpless, though a flicker of divine connection still pulsed within her, a tether to the heavens that he feared would slip away entirely.

"Summon the god now, or I shall unleash a war that will leave this world in ruins, nothing but ashes beneath our Empire," he threatened, his voice a dark promise.

In that moment of despair, the priestess summoned her remaining divine strength, reaching out to the celestial realm, ready to pull down the god.

The heavens tore asunder, a rift appearing in the firmament, and from it descended a divine figure, striking the earth with a force that sent tremors rippling through the ground. She lay there, unconscious yet undeniably captivating, a vision that stole the breath from his lungs. Her flowing white hair cascaded around her, and her skin glowed with an ethereal jade hue, devoid of any other colour. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to adorn her with vibrant shades.

In a fit of fervour, he commanded that she be displayed for all to witness, her form laid bare, legs apart, even her most intimate areas radiating an otherworldly beauty. The king, consumed by madness, plunged into the her folds consumed by inexplicable lust and madness, and the crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and jeers. An intoxicating frenzy enveloped the scene, a palpable tension that stirred a forbidden desire within everyone present. As the night unfolded, unspeakable acts transpired, and a dark dance of passion and death wove itself through the air, leaving behind a haunting tapestry of s*x and death.

The deities descended upon the scene, their celestial gazes captivated by the unfolding drama.

"You know," Death mused, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, "I've always considered diving into that abyss of hers. But now we see the peril that awaits such folly." He gestured towards a lifeless form sprawled beside him, a grim reminder of the stakes involved.

"Now, now, little one," Deues interjected, his tone laced with a smugness that only a god could muster. "That’s precisely why she never regarded you as a man."

Death, undeterred, retorted, "But she doesn’t see any of us as men or women, does she?" The truth hung heavy in the air, leaving the gods momentarily speechless, for it was an unflattering reality they all shared.

"Enough of this banter! We must act swiftly," Kallos urged, urgency threading through her voice. She began to summon her powers, intent on piercing the heart of their foe. Yet, as she channeled her energy, a wave of frustration washed over her—her abilities faltered, leaving her discombobulated.

“What? Our powers are ineffective because she created them?” she mused, her voice drifting into the void, unanswered. The others dismissed her words as mere folly, yet a dawning realisation struck them: it wasn’t that their abilities were powerless against her; rather, the very essence of those powers belonged to her, and with each use, they were merely returning to their rightful owner.

Just then, a raven swooped in, its form shifting into that of a strikingly handsome man, his expression a tempest of fury.

“What in the world have you done this time? Why must I always clean up your mess?” His gaze fell upon the battered and crumpled and defiled body of the goddess sprawled before him, and comprehension ignited a blaze of rage within him. The audacity of the wretched beings she had chosen to create and love was beyond his tolerance. In a fit of wrath, he unleashed his power, and in an instant, the area was reduced to nothing but a swirling cloud of dust, erasing all traces of the disgusting creatures.

As they deliberated over their next course of action, the weight of her unforgiving nature loomed large, a constant reminder of the atrocious deed they had orchestrated. Abaddon, with a chilling calmness, proposed the erasure of her memories. Kallos, however, added a more sinister suggestion—he urged Abaddon to cast her into the abyss, arguing that she had no control over the abyss and that she had orchestrated it that way. Shee warned that failure to act would brand Abaddon a traitor in the eyes of the other races, a label that would be hard to shake off.

Amused by Kallos’s feeble threats, Abaddon chuckled at the notion that he could be intimidated so easily. He consented to the plan but made it clear that he had no desire for the ruling seat of creation; it held no allure for him now that their mother, the Creator, had departed. The throne was a hollow prize, one that he believed anyone could claim, for such trivial matters no longer entertained him.

Yet, unbeknownst to the gods, the abyss was not merely a void; it was a creation of her own making, a fragment of herself she had sought to sever. As they cast her into its depths, the abyss welcomed her with open arms, and in that dark embrace, she reclaimed what was rightfully hers. Once more, she became the sovereign of the abyss, an entity she feared would consume her, fate she ran away from and still ended up back at its looming gates.