“The Red Pact is coming,” Mardonnus warned, overlooking the valley from Alan’s throne room view. “The few scouts we have beyond our realm see signs of large portals forming. What’s worse, now that there’s a god attached to Token, our Ojin presence will be easily identifiable.”

  “Jaeger seeks to wipe us out before we get too strong.” Alan folded his arms, glancing through prompts for something of use. He turned to Flint, who was walking in circles while twirling his beard. “The frogs showed me as a merger or destroyer, Flint. I must become one of them, and fast.”

  “By Mujungo’s feathers, you must choose the former. We cannot trade one destroyer for another,” Flint’s voice cracked.

  “What if this destroyer agreed to dissolve once his task was done?” Alan posed. “I have located the prompts to do so.”

  Alan’s whole coin pouch shook ferociously. All of his minions were writhing to get out. So was his Soul Collector—which was no longer black and brooding, but glowing with blessed Yellow light.

  “You’re a noble thing, aren’t you?” Itsy leaned in and poked his resplendent breastplate. “Ah! Hot! Hot!”

  Alan arced an eyebrow when Itsy waved her hand from the burn.

  “Jeez, I don’t remember Gosfor ever burning me when I put my arms around him.” Itsy made a stank face.

  “I would work to crush the Red Pact when they invade, and when I have committed the ultimate war atrocity, I will accept my punishment and let Token be governed by a new god.”

  “That’s not how it works.” Mardonnus shook her head. “A realm does not survive once its god is undone.”

  Those words literally cracked Alan’s breastplate, which he molded back together with one hand. The idea so starkly conflicted with his purpose, he didn’t know what to do.

  Neesha walked up to Alan and took a deep breath, coating her hands in Green Saro. She then grabbed onto the crevices of his breastplate and adjusted them, suffering the burns without falter. “You sacrificed a lot for us, Alan. I see that now.”

  A faint rush of heat flushed his face, which was wiped away by an unintentional gust of White Saro.

  “The frogs showed you in a cosmos-like atmosphere where you struggled to pull two strings, where you held spheres that looked like planets in your fingertips. I’ve heard questions like these before.” She magically unpacked stone slabs and sifted through them, stopping on one bulkier than the rest. “Where do gods exist?” She pushed the slab between them.

  “Before I was summoned to Token, I existed as air does amid the realm,” Alan said. “Which… did not align with the vision we witnessed.”

  “Right,” Neesha said, searching for another stone that she sandwiched against the bulky one. “I never thought I’d have use for this, but here’s an Answer Stone that perhaps you should see.”

  The stone’s words were gibberish—reminding Alan of the symbols of his old dagger—but they soon translated before his eyes:

  Stone of Godhood

  I think, therefore I am.

  We think, therefore we are.

  Gods are known for their missions and affinities as mortals. A woman who loves archery may create a sun shaped like a bullseye. A man who wanted nothing more than to cook might have giant frying pans in place of valleys.

  Once peak understanding of this truth has been digested, true powers will form.

  Alan hated the vagueness of stones. It was always followed by hours of question-answer sessions that would sometimes result in nothing but more headaches than when he started.

  “We don’t have time for more sessions, Neesha.”

  “Not even if it could save the realm?” She tilted her head.

  Mardonnus analyzed the stone, asking Neesha to read the sayings aloud to her. “Hm. Hm. I have helped Junos sate his need for entertainment many a time. He’d sometimes construct weapons that Ojin could only dream of if he happened to reach peak excitement. Perhaps an exercise like that could trigger Alan’s power.”

  “Ey, the bloke just crushed our notorious gargoyle with his bare hands. I think he’s plenty strong.” Itsy sniffed.

  “This is different, my blueberry bunny,” Flint assured. “Our noble protector must transcend to inspire true power. Or at least, power enough to defend against the might of the Red Pact!”

  “Maybe we should start trading sticks and stones if it gets his fancy tickling.” Itsy began juggling her wide array of strange items.

  “I’ll take a toothpick and an ankle bone.” Flint pointed as she juggled. “And. And… a brown blade of glass. In exchange, I offer you my whitest whisker.”

  Alan dipped his head, feeling a moment of that mortal comradery he’d left behind.

  “I have a silly question for all of you who’ve been in a war before.” Neesha placed her stones on the floor. “Gods can’t leave their realms, right?”

  “Righto, Lady Neesha,” Flint assured.

  “Then if gods send their mortal forces into Token, how the hell would they overpower Alan?”

  “Special weapons bestowed by manifested gods,” Mardonnus recalled. “God-enders, they were called in the old wars. That’s why the more allied realms the Red Pact gains, the more likely we’re dust.”

  Alan’s sword nearly flew out of his sheath, so he swung out Durger, who manifested into a fully colored spirit with resplendent eyes—like an angel version of himself.

  “Goodness, this is different.” He flexed his arms and drew his golden forging hammer. “A nice change.”

  “Arf!” Sir Ooman barked at Alan from behind Durger’s leg.

  “What couldn’t wait?”

  “Right. Goodness, sir Alan. You are frighteningly different too.” Durger grimaced as Alan folded his arms. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. It is not only the god-enders you have to worry about, Sir Alan, but the detainers attached to those weapons as well.”

  “I was getting to that, Durghowler,” Mardonnus muttered.

  “Yes, apologies, Madam. So you see, in the war of the nine realms, Junos sent us on an expedition to gather deity detainers—found in deep caves of Ojin, made of natural matroplacinite—a mouthful, I know—but when infused into weaponry, they are essentially ore used to stall a god’s powers. I didn’t think this information relevant, since we had no intentions to invade. But now that you yourself are a god, Sir Alan.” He bowed. “The game has changed entirely.”

  “Protect the shiny bloke at all costs then, huh?” Itsy smiled.

  “Something like that.” Elkire walked into the doorway with posture that of a god’s. “You saved the realm, Alan, even if it cost Kaivina and Prog in the process.” He held back his tears. “Soon, I wonder if it will be the Fate Chaser.”

  Everyone bowed their heads, except for Alan, who took a few steps to meet the massive man. “The actions of your squad exceed that of a god’s.” He dropped a hand on Elkire’s shoulder, letting it sizzle his armor for a second. “They will be mourned and praised in Token. I’ll take one from Orevella’s book and erect statues in their name at the townhall.”

  Elkire nodded curtly. “That would… mean a lot.”

  Alan nodded and turned his back.

  “However, I’ve not come to strategize in line with my recent promotion.” Elkire took another step forward.

  “Oh?”

  “Rather, I’ve come to say in front of your most trusted… that you’ve adopted a coolness about you that would be better shed. Tenger agrees. As do Sara and Vice.” Elkire did his best not to falter, likely knowing Alan could cast him into oblivion just by thinking it. “We miss the stalwart Merchant who flew with us to Hutten Fie, and we know he’s in there somewhere.”

  Alan clenched his jaw. Elkire had no idea what assuming this power has done to him. Having an insatiable desire to keep the realm safe left little room for individual feelings. And existing as the air of Token for a brief period made his connection to it that much more palpable.

  The others stood silent at Elkire’s unexpected declaration, awaiting Alan’s reaction.

  “As I’ve told the others. Give me time to adjust.” Alan narrowed his eyes. “I suspect you’re right on both counts, Elkire. But my journey as a god will be short-lived if there is no realm to govern.”

  “As it will be for us all.” Elkire smashed a fist to his chest. “Token forever.”

  Flint nodded and did the same. “Aha! Token forever!”

  Itsy slapped her oversized bone hammer on Alan’s throne room floor. “Came this far. May as well. Token forever!”

  Some light laughter surrounded Alan, tickling his human sense for another fraction of a second. Once the lightness died down, Neesha strolled up to Alan again and held her stone up.

  “Shall we?”

  xxx

  When Alan closed his eyes to concentrate on the Answer Stone Neesha set between them, the drum of expanded consciousness whirred around him as if he were floating through space. No longer confined by a mortal mind, he could sense everything about his realm. The gateways to Ojin had expanded in both number and size—leaving more room for threats. However, there was more power radiating from the very terrain since Alan accepted godhood.

  Stone of Godhood

  What is the purpose of a god?

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Initially, to develop a realm in their likeness and invite mortals who appreciate the god’s values. Over time, the god will see that the mortals they invite help to mold the realm by contributing to it. The beauty of godhood is the inspiration derived from their own creation.

  Alan opened his eyes to Neesha sitting cross-legged in front of him. A human tingle ran from chest to gut before it was snuffed out like a flame. He grew annoyed, not just at his lack of resonating emotion, but the philosophical nature of the stone.

  “I have a realm to save, Neesha. I do not need to understand the beauty of inspiration.”

  “You’ve grown more impatient than ever,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. “Sitting here is your best chance at victory, Alan. The stones—for all their headache—eventually gave me the clarity I needed.”

  Frustrated, Alan unstrapped his new godly breastplate and tossed it aside. His chest from under his tunic glistened gold, as did his coin pouch that he’d yet to open. The light caused Neesha to wink one eye open, followed by a sharp scoff.

  “Do I disgust you now?” Alan tried his attempt at humor.

  “I just wish I could slap the old Alan for choosing Trish. If I did it now, he wouldn’t even feel it.” She pressed her hands over the stone. “C’mon. Like old times.”

  “I did not ‘choose’ her.” Alan sighed and rested his hands on it.

  Stone of Godhood

  How can a god ascertain their true power?

  Exercise the core principles of the realm. Ensure your citizens are flourishing in the environment created—whatever that may be—and nurture it.

  Understand the true nature of your mortal motivations, and reflect on how they’ve come to fruition in godhood.

  Alan squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

  They were flourishing before Hyndole came. Trade was taking place.

  The room quaked around them as Alan fell deeper into his new god-mind expanse. He heard a faint voice from far away but ignored it.

  The nature of my mortal motivations? Memories of him traveling Ojin to find his purpose—picking up friends and battling foes along the way—exploring in hopes to gain skill and power through trade. Keeping to his oaths. Yogi…

  Receiving the realm as a gift for keeping his promise. That very act granted him purpose supreme. He’d brokered gods and liberated those chained by them.

  What am I?

  The frogs’ vision popped up next—that image of him pulling desperately on golden strings with outstretched arms. He realized he was in the same cosmic expanse he existed in now. A connection formed immediately.

  This is where I need to be.

  The ground quaked harder, the distant voice growing louder.

  “Alan!”

  He ignored the telltale signs of danger, because in his mind he could finally see it—a sphere rotating like a planet. A prompt told him it was a realm. And the design told him which one. A massive white cloud swirled over bongo mountains, and it was smiling at him.

  “Strangey Town.” He reached with his ethereal hand.

  “Alan!” Neesha’s desperate voice snapped him back to the present.

  When Alan opened his eyes again, cracks in his stone floor and falling ceiling debris caused him to snap his fingers an instant before a slab of ceiling crushed them. A Yellow glow outlined around the suspended stone. Seeing it mere feet away from Neesha’s head evoked a terrible pain in his heart—flashes of Irana’s death… of battlefields littered with bodies.

  What are we but fools trying to control fate?

  He twisted his wrist, using his godly Saro to mend his throne room back into place. Neesha watched with awe as golden glue rewound the damage.

  Yet I feel an urge to defend all the same.

  “I know what I must do,” he said, getting to his feet.

  “Talk it out.” Neesha hugged herself to stop from shaking, appearing bashful because Alan offered no comfort.

  “My mind. I can… feel the universe. It’s just as foretold.”

  “Flint would be doing cartwheels if he heard you say that again.” She smiled sadly.

  “Indeed, he would.” Alan made for the door. “I need open space, and solitude.”

  Alan could feel Neesha’s presence darken behind him. His manners were replaced with narrow actions meant for one goal. But he wasn’t lost yet.

  “Thank you for your guidance. It seems these hours spent were the opposite of what I expected.”

  Neesha placed a Green Saro-infused hand on his golden chest. Her touch disarmed his Saro coating, dissipating the misty glow in his eyes. “Don’t lose yourself, Alan. We need you.”

  Alan blinked a few times, fighting to retain the sensation of her hand on his chest. “You’ll keep me grounded,” he said before rewinding back to full power. He was getting a glimpse of why Mujungo acted the way he did. His focus was zoomed so intently on his vision, he had an impossible time breaking away.

  He abandoned his throne room before Neesha could say anything else and leapt high into the air. Gravity behaved differently for him now. Saro carried him like a rocket to the next mountaintop, where he crashed down in heroic fashion.

  I can feel the universe, he repeated in his head, looking around as the sun peeked through the clouds, the corruption of Hyndole’s crimson fog disappearing entirely. I have to reach them before it’s too late.

  He sat cross-legged in the crater he created—where flowers sprouted all around him as he tried to take a deep breath. Knowing once he closed his eyes he’d fall into a state of trance, he took one last look at what was gifted to him.

  “Mother Balooma, guide me.”

  Just as he was about to delve into his mind, his pouch jangled at his side. It hit him that he was being foolish by jumping so quickly. His minions surely had something to say about all this. With a wave of his hand, he extended the mountaintop into a flat-surfaced summit with motes of Variant Saro blooming on the outskirts.

  Flapping open the pouch, he noticed his golden coins were now blindingly bright, so much so he had to look away for them to cool.

  One coin rustled more violently than the others—the one with a roaring bear on the head’s side. He took the minted gold in his grasp and inspected it. A rush of warming friendship swaddled him like a blanket before being yanked away yet again.

  With a pained expression, Alan flipped the coin ten feet away, where a yellow bolt flashed in the sunny sky, forming into a version of the Borai Alan hardly recognized. Golden armor clamped around Yogi’s knees—conditioned white fur peeking through—and his pauldrons exuded a mist like Alan’s eyes.

  “A guardian fit for a god.” Alan forced a smile, watching the bear bound over to him with purpose.

  “God Alan, I come with grave news.”

  “Yes, Yogi, what could’ve happened from Hyndole’s destruction until now?”

  “I… am not sure. But there is a feeling of great turmoil within me.” Yogi stared at his own paw, at a loss. “Mother whispers to me from afar. She says I am a Patrolgod now.”

  Alan rubbed his chin. “That does make sense. I wonder if all our friends are Patrolgods of Token now… ever since I accepted godhood.”

  “Yes, but everything is different. I do not wish to feel this way.”

  Alan’s expression strained, as if the realm had just been struck. “Somehow, I understand.” Alan dipped his head, his godly powers rewinding once more. “It was my only choice, Yogi. I did not ever mean to accept this fate. Though if I hadn’t, we all would’ve forfeited our lives and potentially the universe.” In a rare moment of mortal clarity, Alan looked up at one of his oldest Ojin friends. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Yogi’s eyes widened. “Noble Alan! You are still in there!” He dipped down uncomfortably close and began sniffing all over, then hugged him tight. “Do not leave, I beg! It is so very cold without you. We feel like mere coins in a Merchant’s pouch without you.”

  Alan may as well have been punched in the gut, which triggered his godly Saro to zoom back around him. He fought valiantly to keep it away. “Yogi… it just has to be like this… a little longer.”

  Yogi frowned but nodded. “They are coming, god Alan. The golden flow tells me.”

  “Then I must summon our allies to our side.” He gritted his teeth. “Protect the realm as I work, Yogi-Shontier. It is our sworn duty.”

  Alan crossed his legs in meditative stance, as Trish once taught him long ago on Earth. He inhaled slowly and deeply, falling somewhere far away.

  In the expansive drum of ultimate consciousness, immeasurable power flowed through him—whatever he was here. There was no sense of mortality—no flesh or bone—just a projection of light that was his essence.

  This is what the frogs envisioned.

  They knew what I would become.

  He outstretched arms of ethereal light—sending signals amidst a vast ocean of space. Twinkling stars and rotating orbs—one of red and white winds, another of green grassy dragons revolving around it—those were realms too, just like he saw before in the frogs’ visions. What’s more, he knew they were his allied realms. Hutten Fie was the one of changing shapes. A gargantuan sword morphed into a shield on its second rotation, then a helmet. Royal Horde was the dragon—Asian-style, like Gosfor preferred. And of course, the emoting clouds had to be Strangey Town.

  This was a map of the realms no mortal could possibly understand. Endless space condensed before his eyes to bring realms together—yet he knew how far they could rush away at a moment’s notice.

  Alan had ascended into godhood against his will, and this was one of the results. The giant black orb forming in the center of the cosmos was Ojin. He no longer had any visibility into it. Like a giant blind spot that caused all the gods to go mad in one way or the other. But he couldn’t focus on that now.

  Token would perish if he didn’t act. Jaeger and Sar’fidius were soon on their way to destroying what he’d built. Flashes of the Fate Chasers, his friends, his citizens… Neesha. He couldn’t let them down.

  Now he had to figure out if this was all in his head.

  Gathering of Unlikely Guds:

  Through ultimate consciousness, you have located your allies’ realms within the universe.

  Commence Smoke Signal?

  “Yes,” he spoke in his mind, able to now interact directly with the system. Usually it was just acceptance and rejection, but here he could feel its essence. Like invisible waves of jelly connecting everything together. “But first, does the Red Pact have this ability as well?”

  War-time Protocol

  Alliances generally communicate through this plane as an attempt to mobilize and coordinate. Note, however, that visibility into Ojin is prohibited. Only maps in present consciousness can be utilized to attempt to understand Ojin’s breadth.

  “Noted. Thank you.” Alan blinked away the prompts and focused on the realms pulling closer to him. A ting sound echoed from his ears all the way down to the spheres, beckoning a familiar old lady, a cowering chubby man, and an overzealous kid with a long headdress of feathers to form as faces overwhelming their spheres.

  “Zip zoopy doo!” Mujungo exclaimed, sending the bongo mountains in full gear. “You have taken the plunge, wow! Look here, look there, look everywhere! Alan Right has become a god! I wish I could say this wasn’t foretold.”

  “Goodness.” Gosfor adjusted a pair of manifested glasses. “You’re glowing, honorable Alan. I must say, I was incredibly relieved to hear of your epic victory. One less gargoyle I have to lie to. He would’ve eaten me alive!”

  “Did you leave your nerve in Ojin, little man?” Orevella knitted to her heart’s content, casting a dank side-eye at Gos. “The man I knew would’ve rushed headstrong into the pearly beasts of the purple fog!”

  “Hm. Must be what happens when you win your realm after living out all your greatest fears.” Gosfor scratched his head. “I did not mean it to be this way, Lady Orevella! Now you have embarrassed me so. I should retreat to my quarters.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Alan boomed, unintentionally shaking all three allied spheres.

  “Adjust your volume, young man.” Orev plugged her ears.

  “Apologies,” he said. “What Gosfor says is true. Hyndole, Jaeger’s hand, has fallen.”

  “Awhoo!” Mujungo’s head spun a full rotation. “Is he sure, though? Is Alan the magical so very sure of his accomplishment?”

  Alan narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “Hah heeh. I do love being the one with the froggies. Clairvoyance supreme, confusion forever!”

  “How did you ever ally with such a mad thing?” Orevella cast a second side-eye.

  “I am not mad, I am happy. So very!” Mujungo bounced his sphere up and down.

  “Oh dear.” Gosfor covered his eyes. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  “The froggies show quite a revelation.” Mujungo inhaled exaggeratedly. “I’ve been huffing their spots quite frequently.”

  “Get on with it, Mujungo,” Alan said. “War is at our doorstep.”

  “Before Jaeger declared war, he split his hand’s soul into three. A gargoyle, a tree, and a sword. The god of Hozzod does not expect to rule the universe without eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Alan cursed under his breath, feeling there was always some underlying carve out in his victories against Jaeger.

  Eyes and ears everywhere… Alan thought to himself. Not only was he perturbed about Hyndole still having life somewhere in the universe, he worried the gargoyle might be hiding in plain sight. One of the island trees in Strangey Town?

  He couldn’t say anything here, though. If he suggested that to Mujungo, there was a good chance he’d go on a chopping spree and cut down all of the friendly watchers he’d come to respect. Perhaps there still was some humanity left in him.

  “How sure are you of this truth?” Alan asked Mujungo.

  “As sure as my scouts on Earth. Hah!” Mujungo spun his sphere in a full circle.

  If that was true, then Lucius and Trish might have information about it. Both had resided in Hozzod for some time. Tricky bastards.

  “I see.”

  Alan got flashes of the frogs’ visions. The duality of his purpose. Seeing himself readying to crush a sphere in his own hands made him wonder the extent of his godly power. Could he swim through the cosmos and flatten Hozzod just by willing it?

  A lightning bolt cracked through his head. Such an evil consideration. Surely the entirety of the realm wasn’t full of world-ending conquerors. Gardstrife was spawned there—and he was one of the best of them.

  The universe would benefit if I could sacrifice the few…

  Another lightning bolt seared his mind.

  In war… there are casualties.

  And I posess the power to end it.