Fantasy The Worst Pantheon: Live and Reloaded (IC Thread) (OPEN)

[Churl]

65 seconds of Krassmas left

"DIE! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!! DIE IN PURE PAIN!!!"

...it seems that Helsa has snapped from pure rage at Krass surviving her attack. And thus, she began shooting ridiculously huge blasts of corruption at a specific spot on Krass's body.

His groin.

Even if he survived this attack, he would be in...a lot of pain.

Helsa’s attack somehow strikes true despite the specific and small target (compared to the rest of his mass. No statement shall be made specifically either way about the target itself). Despite this, Krass does indeed seem to take the attack in stride. Well, he survives it at any rate. His screams of pain don’t really signal that he’ll be able to walk it off.

“Gahhhh! Much as I appreciate the ability to deal with a rotting attack, I’d much rather have inherited a different trait! Ah, oh my gods. Oh fantasy-Jesus. Oh man. Oh boy. I need to sit down for a second. Nope! That made it worse! Oh dear lord I’m going to vomit.”

He does. He also plunges the kris into the snow, spikes of ice jutting up and impaling Helsa. Well, trying to, at any rate. As it stands none penetrate her skin, and the points of the spikes break off. They do trap her in place, though, and Krass begins to hurry towards the chasm to the tree, ice carrying him forward as he winces. It still hurts like hell, but he can’t walk like this.

45 seconds.

Guh--

As the ground beneath Ocaeril gave off like snow facing the sun, his golden energy disappeared, as heavy steam was coming off from his body. His veins were popping out and were visible, and small cracks were present on his skin. It wasn't mortal damage, of course, but to use the 7th Gate for the first time like this...It certainly made him...Rather tired. No, 'rather' didn't make it justice. He was...Really tired. He could feel his Chakra going back to the inside of his body, as his normal appearence came back...His vision blurrying itself more and more...

The world seemed to go to slow motion as he fell, his haori flapping into the wind. All of them...They sure were giving their best to save the world, weren't they? Of course...Some of their interests weren't kind such as his and Inqui's...Still...To see them all here, in this moment...Going forward against all odds....

It really made him happy he was a part of this family.

In a single moment, Ocaeril's Truth Seeking Orbs would then shape themselves as a spear, as suddenly, Space Time Shifted, as with the last of his Chakra, he teleported it into the middle of Krankle's head.

As Ocaeril fell down, he would look up at the moon, the stars, and the sky above, and regardless if he hit or not, he would say one last thing before his body hit the snow bellow him.

Never...Give up...


SPLASH​

With a thumbs up towards the sky and a smile, Ocaeril's eyes slowly closed, as unconsciousness hit him.

The spear suddenly appeared in Krass’ head, blowing the right side of his face off of him. He staggered and the rush of ice stopped before some more rose to catch him before he could fall, twisting his body to look back at the gods. He only had his left eye and mouth left. A good chunk of his head was gone, and the macabre ghoul looked at them in shock and anger. This was just enough time for Joe to grab him.

Assyrian Conversational:
A bolt of lightning split through the air. A red streak that crashed thorough the ice and seared away water. The ice boiled, fizzling from a golden sun burning into being beneath it. The crystal surface shattered, from it emerged covered in icy water a man glowing molten red. He threw a body on the ground and began to strike certain points on the body. muttering under his breath all the while.
"Foolish. Your inner energy valves are burnt. It will take the hand of a miricale worker to restore you."
Assyrian probed the burnt body of Ocaeril without doubt as he forced Chi to stir and awaken in Ocaeril. He was a miracle worker.

As Assyrian pulled Ocaeril out of the water, his back seemed stained from where he had layed in the corrupted liquid. A grumbled sigh in purple font and a wave of an antlered goddess’ hand dealt with that as the warrior poured life back into the god.

Joe reappeared once again and arms begin to stretch out of the inside of Joe’s mouth and grabbed Krass by the ankles. They didn’t let their grip loose and begin pulling him in, pushing more death into him.

As Joe dragged Krass’ mangled body closer to his jaws and filled him with [death], he could feel it was a lot less effective than he might think.

Krass laughed, a wretched wet sound considering the state of his head.

“Ho Ho Ho! Really? You know I’m the shadow of Krankle and you try death magic on me? Also, sorry, friend, but I’m not that kind of kinky. Heh heh hEh hEh, wAiT, wHaT’s hApPeNiNg tO mY vOiCe? nO!”

Krass swung his blade down over and over on the arms, hacking at Joe with a mad energy.

“i gOtTa AcTiVaTe, i gOtTa dO iT NoW! i’M sTaYiNg mE i’M mE dAmMiT!”

Krass cut himself free and jumped into the water, plunging his blade into the dark liquid. A raft of ice formed and began to sail towards the tree at top speed, before slowing.

“wHaT? nO! wHaT’s wRoNg?!”

The cold winds pushing him forward stopped, and the raft stayed still in the murky stagnant water, the ripples from his journey bouncing his little raft as the water seemed to slurp more than spray as it was jostled. And Krass realized something. The raft was smaller. And the ice was quickly weakening in the water, sinking and dissolving. Krass readied his blade to plunge it in again, only to stop as he realized it had turned brittle and began to dissolve. He wanted to scream, he wanted to try and force some of the Krassmas magic from the tree back into him to give one last push, but he found he didn’t have the strength. His body had finally begun to catch up to the fact he was dying, and he couldn’t curse or shout or think much of anything except how cold it was. He had felt the cold, he relished it, controlled it. But never before had he felt the bite of the chill. He didn’t realize he was sinking until he realized the water was up to his beard. Was it still water? It was awfully cold. He was so close! So close to- to...it was so cold. He did something with the cold, right? He thought he could remember something like that. Maybe if he just rested and kept sinking, and let the cold keep creeping in, he could harness it and do... whatever it is he was going to do. Wow, it was dark. No, wait, he lost an eye, that’s right. Oh, but wait, he couldn’t see from the other eye either. The water seemed to be pulling him more and more down, draining the last of his strength. Dissolving the magic that was his being. In his last moments, he realized he was falling apart, and thought he heard something. Laughter, and a familiar mocking voice.

Krass Blue
_ _
((\o/))
.-----//^\\-----.
| /`| |`\ |
| | | |
| | | |
| | | |
'------===------'​

20 seconds.

He shudders and staggers back a step from the burst of chill Krassmass energy, a fine dusting of ice crystals forming on his front, and icicles beginning to hang from his hat. "F-fuck is that c-cold."

Despite the fear of being frozen into an ice statue, he rears back the axe for another powerful chop.

As the gods were finishing off Krass, Kurantse swung again. The next chop shakes the tree. He can tell only one more chop and it’s gone. Too late, he notices something as the cold continues to hit him. The axe, his arms, they’re beginning to look...festive. The Krassmas magic was leaking out of the tree, he’d be converted soon if he doesn’t chop down this tree now! But, the axe felt so heavy, and the cold was calling to him. Why was he doing this again? Kurantse began to think of all the potential marketing for a proper Krassmas season. Yes, he could make a killing off it, couldn’t he? And the axe was sooo heavy, and he felt sooo weak, but why did it feel like someone was screaming in his ear to finish the job?

 

[KolastoRPN]

65 seconds of Krassmas left

Helsa’s attack somehow strikes true despite the specific and small target (compared to the rest of his mass. No statement shall be made specifically either way about the target itself). Despite this, Krass does indeed seem to take the attack in stride. Well, he survives it at any rate. His screams of pain don’t really signal that he’ll be able to walk it off.

“Gahhhh! Much as I appreciate the ability to deal with a rotting attack, I’d much rather have inherited a different trait! Ah, oh my gods. Oh fantasy-Jesus. Oh man. Oh boy. I need to sit down for a second. Nope! That made it worse! Oh dear lord I’m going to vomit.”

He does. He also plunges the kris into the snow, spikes of ice jutting up and impaling Helsa. Well, trying to, at any rate. As it stands none penetrate her skin, and the points of the spikes break off. They do trap her in place, though, and Krass begins to hurry towards the chasm to the tree, ice carrying him forward as he winces. It still hurts like hell, but he can’t walk like this.

45 seconds.

The speak suddenly appeared in Krass’ head, blowing the right side of his face off of him. He staggered and the rush of ice stopped before some more rose to catch him before he could fall, twisting his body to look back at the gods. He only had his left eye and mouth left. A good chunk of his head was gone, and the macabre ghoul looked at them in shock and anger,m. This was just enough time for Joe to grab him.



As Joe dragged Krass’ mangled body closer to his jaws and filled him with [death], he could feel it was a lot less effective than he might think.

Krass laughed, a wretched wet sound considering the state of his head.

“Ho Ho Ho! Really? You know I’m the shadow of Krankle and you try death magic on me? Also, sorry, friend, but I’m not that kind of kinky. Heh heh hEh hEh, wAiT, wHaT’s hApPeNiNg tO mY vOiCe? nO!”

Krass swung his blade down over and over on the arms, hacking at Joe with a mad energy.

“i gOtTa AcTiVaTe, i gOtTa dO iT NoW! i’M sTaYiNg mE i’M mE dAmMiT!”

Krass cut himself free and jumped into the water, plunging his blade into the dark liquid. A raft of ice formed and began to sail towards the tree at top speed, before slowing.

“wHaT? nO! wHaT’s wRoNg?!”

The cold winds pushing him forward stopped, and the raft stayed still in the murky stagnant water, the ripples from his journey bouncing his little raft as the water seemed to slurp more than spray as it was jostled. And Krass realized something. The raft was smaller. And the ice was quickly weakening in the water, sinking and dissolving. Krass readied his blade to plunge it in again, only to stop as he realized it had turned brittle and began to dissolve. He wanted to scream, he wanted to try and force some of the Krassmas magic from the tree back into him to give one last push, but he found he didn’t have the strength. His body had finally begun to catch up to the fact he was dying, and he couldn’t curse or shout or think much of anything except how cold it was. He had felt the cold, he relished it, controlled it. But never before had he felt the bite of the chill. He didn’t realize he was sinking until he realized the water was up to his beard. Was it still water? It was awfully cold. He was so close! So close to- to...it was so cold. He did something with the cold, right? He thought he could remember something like that. Maybe if he just rested and kept sinking, and leg the cold keep creeping in, he could harness it and do... whatever it is he was going to do. Wow, it was dark. No, wait, he lost an eye, that’s right. Oh, but wait, he couldn’t see from the other eye either. The water seemed to be pulling him more and more down, draining the last of his strength. Dissolving the magic that was his being. In his last moments, he realized he was falling apart, and thought he heard something. Laughter, and a familiar mocking voice.

Krass Blue
_ _
((\o/))
.-----//^\\-----.
| /`| |`\ |
| | | |
| | | |
| | | |
'------===------'​

20 seconds.

As the gods were finishing off Krass, Kurantse swung again. The next chop shakes the tree. He can tell only one more chop and it’s gone. Too late, he notices something as the cold continues to hit him. The axe, his arms, they’re beginning to look...festive. The Krassmas magic was leaking out of the tree, he’d be converted soon if he doesn’t chop down this tree now! But, the axe felt so heavy, and the cold was calling to him. Why was he doing this again? Kurantse began to think of all the potential marketing for a proper Krassmas season. Yes, he could make a killing off it, couldn’t he? And the axe was sooo heavy, and he felt sooo weak, but why did it feel like someone was screaming in his ear to finish the job?

"FINALLY!" Helsa screams, as Krass finally dies. Of course, she then notices that Kurantse is starting to get Krass-ified.

"OH HELL NO, I AM NOT GETTING KRASSIFIED!" With a shriek of rage, she shot a giant blast of corruption at...Kurantse? But this wasn't a normal corruption blast. This one was filled with Wrath. One specifically meant to make Kurantse VIOLENTLY furious at the tree. As they hit Kurantse, he felt as if the tree was everything he hated.

 

[Stikes]

As the gods were finishing off Krass, Kurantse swung again. The next chop shakes the tree. He can tell only one more chop and it’s gone. Too late, he notices something as the cold continues to hit him. The axe, his arms, they’re beginning to look...festive. The Krassmas magic was leaking out of the tree, he’d be converted soon if he doesn’t chop down this tree now! But, the axe felt so heavy, and the cold was calling to him. Why was he doing this again? Kurantse began to think of all the potential marketing for a proper Krassmas season. Yes, he could make a killing off it, couldn’t he? And the axe was sooo heavy, and he felt sooo weak, but why did it feel like someone was screaming in his ear to finish the job?

The merchant god struggles to raise the axe again, even as his arms go weak from the exposure to Krassmass energy. He tries to channel his own divine telekinesis into his arm, giving him just enough strength to fell the tree... but it's blocked. His limbs are too saturated with festive magic to influence.

Oh well, he thinks, the axe beginning to slip out of his frozen fingers, It would be a damn good moneymaking opportunity though, eh?

"FINALLY!" Helsa screams, as Krass finally dies. Of course, she then notices that Kurantse is starting to get Krass-ified.

"OH HELL NO, I AM NOT GETTING KRASSIFIED!" With a shriek of rage, she shot a giant blast of corruption at...Kurantse? But this wasn't a normal corruption blast. This one was filled with Wrath. One specifically meant to make Kurantse VIOLENTLY furious at the tree. As they hit Kurantse, he felt as if the tree was everything he hated.

As the wave of wrathful power flow around and through him, his grip tightens once more. "Actually, on second thought? Fuck that!"

He hefts the axe once more, biting into the tree - but not toppling it. He rears back again, small portals forming in the air. Gold flows from them and onto the axe's haft, coating it. "If I make money off of Krassmass, it'll be on my own terms!"

The blade cleaves through the air again, this time almost too fast to see, and accompanied by a loud crack and wave of displaced air. It cleaves cleanly through the giant evergreen, which teeters, then begins to fall.

 

[Gravitys Momentum]

65 seconds of Krassmas left

Helsa’s attack somehow strikes true despite the specific and small target (compared to the rest of his mass. No statement shall be made specifically either way about the target itself). Despite this, Krass does indeed seem to take the attack in stride. Well, he survives it at any rate. His screams of pain don’t really signal that he’ll be able to walk it off.

“Gahhhh! Much as I appreciate the ability to deal with a rotting attack, I’d much rather have inherited a different trait! Ah, oh my gods. Oh fantasy-Jesus. Oh man. Oh boy. I need to sit down for a second. Nope! That made it worse! Oh dear lord I’m going to vomit.”

He does. He also plunges the kris into the snow, spikes of ice jutting up and impaling Helsa. Well, trying to, at any rate. As it stands none penetrate her skin, and the points of the spikes break off. They do trap her in place, though, and Krass begins to hurry towards the chasm to the tree, ice carrying him forward as he winces. It still hurts like hell, but he can’t walk like this.

45 seconds.

The speak suddenly appeared in Krass’ head, blowing the right side of his face off of him. He staggered and the rush of ice stopped before some more rose to catch him before he could fall, twisting his body to look back at the gods. He only had his left eye and mouth left. A good chunk of his head was gone, and the macabre ghoul looked at them in shock and anger,m. This was just enough time for Joe to grab him.

As Assyrian pulled Ocaeril out of the water, his back seemed stained from where he had layed in the corrupted liquid. A grumbled sigh in purple font and a wave of an antlered goddess’ hand dealt with that as the warrior poured life back into the god.


As Joe dragged Krass’ mangled body closer to his jaws and filled him with [death], he could feel it was a lot less effective than he might think.

Krass laughed, a wretched wet sound considering the state of his head.

“Ho Ho Ho! Really? You know I’m the shadow of Krankle and you try death magic on me? Also, sorry, friend, but I’m not that kind of kinky. Heh heh hEh hEh, wAiT, wHaT’s hApPeNiNg tO mY vOiCe? nO!”

Krass swung his blade down over and over on the arms, hacking at Joe with a mad energy.

“i gOtTa AcTiVaTe, i gOtTa dO iT NoW! i’M sTaYiNg mE i’M mE dAmMiT!”

Krass cut himself free and jumped into the water, plunging his blade into the dark liquid. A raft of ice formed and began to sail towards the tree at top speed, before slowing.

“wHaT? nO! wHaT’s wRoNg?!”

The cold winds pushing him forward stopped, and the raft stayed still in the murky stagnant water, the ripples from his journey bouncing his little raft as the water seemed to slurp more than spray as it was jostled. And Krass realized something. The raft was smaller. And the ice was quickly weakening in the water, sinking and dissolving. Krass readied his blade to plunge it in again, only to stop as he realized it had turned brittle and began to dissolve. He wanted to scream, he wanted to try and force some of the Krassmas magic from the tree back into him to give one last push, but he found he didn’t have the strength. His body had finally begun to catch up to the fact he was dying, and he couldn’t curse or shout or think much of anything except how cold it was. He had felt the cold, he relished it, controlled it. But never before had he felt the bite of the chill. He didn’t realize he was sinking until he realized the water was up to his beard. Was it still water? It was awfully cold. He was so close! So close to- to...it was so cold. He did something with the cold, right? He thought he could remember something like that. Maybe if he just rested and kept sinking, and let the cold keep creeping in, he could harness it and do... whatever it is he was going to do. Wow, it was dark. No, wait, he lost an eye, that’s right. Oh, but wait, he couldn’t see from the other eye either. The water seemed to be pulling him more and more down, draining the last of his strength. Dissolving the magic that was his being. In his last moments, he realized he was falling apart, and thought he heard something. Laughter, and a familiar mocking voice.

Krass Blue
_ _
((\o/))
.-----//^\\-----.
| /`| |`\ |
| | | |
| | | |
| | | |
'------===------'​

20 seconds.

As the gods were finishing off Krass, Kurantse swung again. The next chop shakes the tree. He can tell only one more chop and it’s gone. Too late, he notices something as the cold continues to hit him. The axe, his arms, they’re beginning to look...festive. The Krassmas magic was leaking out of the tree, he’d be converted soon if he doesn’t chop down this tree now! But, the axe felt so heavy, and the cold was calling to him. Why was he doing this again? Kurantse began to think of all the potential marketing for a proper Krassmas season. Yes, he could make a killing off it, couldn’t he? And the axe was sooo heavy, and he felt sooo weak, but why did it feel like someone was screaming in his ear to finish the job?

Joe pouted, he really wanted to eat the thing.

 

[Celestial Speck]

Ocaeril didn't respond. The god was clearly alive, yet...His entire body was filled with cracks. His muscles were torn open, and his body whiter then it usually was. His natural green glow on his tattoos were glowing dimmer and dimmer, and he didn't respond. Assyrian's and Ickol's help did manage to earn an gasp from him, but...Something. Something was pulling him away. Something wasn't working. The air seemed to be getting lifeless around him, as they would notice a single thing.

Demonic energy.

It was extremely purified, and almost gone, but it was definitely the energy of a demon- a powerful one, too. It didn't seem to have hold of him, but it's energy was travelling in his body, and leaving like hot steam. Low breaths exited his mouth, as Ocaeril was struggling to wake up.

Amanwithnolifenofamilynofateamanbornfromfoolishnessbornfrommadnessamanwhosewishistobewithonewholoveshimamanwothnolifenodestinynolovealonrlybpystandsatopalonelywoorldheistheonlyonethereisandshalleverbe

Inside the mind of the planet, he slowly sunk into a void...

 

[Gravitys Momentum]

Ocaeril didn't respond. The god was clearly alive, yet...His entire body was filled with cracks. His muscles were torn open, and his body whiter then it usually was. His natural green glow on his tattoos were glowing dimmer and dimmer, and he didn't respond. Assyrian's and Ickol's help did manage to earn an gasp from him, but...Something. Something was pulling him away. Something wasn't working. The air seemed to be getting lifeless around him, as they would notice a single thing.

Demonic energy.

It was extremely purified, and almost gone, but it was definitely the energy of a demon- a powerful one, too. It didn't seem to have hold of him, but it's energy was travelling in his body, and leaving like hot steam. Low breaths exited his mouth, as Ocaeril was struggling to wake up.

Amanwithnolifenofamilynofateamanbornfromfoolishnessbornfrommadnessamanwhosewishistobewithonewholoveshimamanwothnolifenodestinynolovealonrlybpystandsatopalonelywoorldheistheonlyonethereisandshalleverbe

Inside the mind of the planet, he slowly sunk into a void...

Joe went to feed off the energies coming off of Ocaeril, mmmm, the aroma.

 

[Churl]

Ocaeril didn't respond. The god was clearly alive, yet...His entire body was filled with cracks. His muscles were torn open, and his body whiter then it usually was. His natural green glow on his tattoos were glowing dimmer and dimmer, and he didn't respond. Assyrian's and Ickol's help did manage to earn an gasp from him, but...Something. Something was pulling him away. Something wasn't working. The air seemed to be getting lifeless around him, as they would notice a single thing.

Demonic energy.

It was extremely purified, and almost gone, but it was definitely the energy of a demon- a powerful one, too. It didn't seem to have hold of him, but it's energy was travelling in his body, and leaving like hot steam. Low breaths exited his mouth, as Ocaeril was struggling to wake up.

Amanwithnolifenofamilynofateamanbornfromfoolishnessbornfrommadnessamanwhosewishistobewithonewholoveshimamanwothnolifenodestinynolovealonrlybpystandsatopalonelywoorldheistheonlyonethereisandshalleverbe

Inside the mind of the planet, he slowly sunk into a void...

Ickol began to kick him in the head repeatedly.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not...today. Don’t...be...a...butt...about...this. You...better...not...be...thinking...in...my...color, because...that’s...my...thing. I...do...cool...purple, you...get...gross...yellow. Get...up. Get...up. I...swear...if...you...choose...now...to...snap...I’m...killing...you. I...have...a...wicked...headache. I’m...done...with...things...today. No...things...in...this...area, no...siree. You...can...die...tomorrow, but...I...need...a...nap. Next...kick...goes...between...the...legs...if...you...keep...making...this...a...thing.”

 

[Stikes]

~snip~

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not...today. Don’t...be...a...butt...about...this. You...better...not...be...thinking...in...my...color, because...that’s...my...thing. I...do...cool...purple, you...get...gross...yellow. Get...up. Get...up. I...swear...if...you...choose...now...to...snap...I’m...killing...you. I...have...a...wicked...headache. I’m...done...with...things...today. No...things...in...this...area, no...siree. You...can...die...tomorrow, but...I...need...a...nap. Next...kick...goes...between...the...legs...if...you...keep...making...this...a...thing.”

Kurantse staggers over to the forming huddle, obviously dead tired. "Shut. Yellow'sa great color. Gold's is, is better though," he slurs out.

He opens a portal over Ocaeril, dumping a pile of coins on top of the insensate god. "There's your present. Happy-" he yawns "- Happy Krassmass. Pay me back later."

The Trickster then falls over and starts snoring.

 

[Celestial Speck]

Dark.

Ocaeril, once more, was in a primordial darkness of the likes he's only seen once. A darkness that seemed to be an ocean, and at the same time, the space itself. It was long and infinite, and cold. As he fell through this abyss of nothing, he could only hear faint whispers back towards the top. Soft prayers, cries for help, wishes, so on, so forth.

He didn't understand a single thing that was going on.

He tried moving his leg. Can't. Too tired.

He tried opening his eyes. They're either already open and it's just that dark, or he's too tired again.

Movement. Denied.

Thoughts? Just barely.

It's cold...

「Well, that sure as hell is true. Hey, didn't you create like, cold or sumthin?」

A new voice came into his mind. He tried to move around, but the voice seemed to be present in all places at all times. That, and he couldn't move an inch. Was he even falling anymore into this dark abyss? Was he even alive? This must be the afterlife. What a way to go. Dead by using your own powers...

「...Okay, sure, you can ignore my question there. Really kind of you, pal. Then again, the answer was no. It was your daddy who made that, wasn't it? The llama? Arceus?」

...Arceus. Ocaeril could feel his muscles tensing at the name.

「O~hohoho! I hit a nerve, didn't I? I getcha, I getcha, guy is a dick, at the end of the day. Like, I bet he thinks his own is the size of the universe!」

The voice laughed. It was mocking in nature. There was something just wrong about it. Something deep and unnerving, like speaking to a joker. A clown, someone who constantly smiles and tries to make a fool of himself. Something like....

「...A liar?」 Even with no visual, Ocaeril could tell the voice was grinning. 「Thats golden coming from you, man. Me, a liar? Nah, my smiles fake, that's all. Nope, if anyone's a liar, it's you, buddy! 」

Ocaeril groaned. He could feel himself tensing more and more. He wanted out. He wanted out of whatever this place was. He didn't want this anymore. He knew where he was going, he was--

「The one who is the kindest of them all wears a fake smile on his face, because deep down, he knows nobody will give one back, right? Yes, with smiles, there is friendship. But within friendship, there is reassurance upon ones self. That's how you manipulate your own heart, isn't it, homunculus?」

...His body felt weightless. Homunculus. He wasn't an...He wasn't an...!

「You act kind with the others because you want people to care about you. You created life because you want to CARE for someone. Care for someone just like daddy didn't. It's adorable, isn't it? The son wanting to give his children the father they never had. And yet, you don't feel a thing, do you? No, this Pantheon is the worst of them all. So you don't feel a thing.」

That's not true. He cares for his children. He cares for his brothers and sisters. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here today! He wouldn't care! He wouldn't be saving them! They're all- They're all important to him! And he's not a homunculus! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself--

「Because deep down, you're just a lost child looking for his parents.」

...

Curling himself up into a ball, Ocaeril softly weeped.

His cries were akin to a child. A lost, hopeless child just like he said. He was right, wasn't he? He was just a fool. A fool who wears the title of a Father because he never had one. A fool who cannot even take care of himself. A fool who wants recognition. He's someone who's just...Who's just never learned a thing. He grows, and yet...

Happy Krassmass...

A small, glowing mark of a hand appeared on his back, as Ocaeril stopped crying for a single moment, before continuing.

 

[BlackCat-055]

Ocaeril’s attack caused a hundreds-of-feet-wide.-chasm in the ice between Krass and the tree, the water between them the inky black corrupted ocean.

As he grabbed the hammer, he found it shockingly heavy. However, with the strength of the world, and with his own inner drive, he lifted it and brought it down on Cthistmas, his head erupting into sludge. As the fox form bit the neck still, however, the bits of head, already beginning to pull back to the source, ceased, and Ocaeril’s chakra energy began to pulsate through the monster’s body. Even without a head, Cthistmas still screamed in pain and rage, and Ocaeril realized another energy was splintering across the monster’s body, starting from the neck. Ickol pulled out the spear and yelled something about getting away, and suddenly the mass beneath Ocaeril gave way as it shattered into pieces like glass.

Cthistmas
8============================================D​

65 seconds of Krassmas left

Krass Blue
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'------===------'​

Guh--

As the ground beneath Ocaeril gave off like snow facing the sun, his golden energy disappeared, as heavy steam was coming off from his body. His veins were popping out and were visible, and small cracks were present on his skin. It wasn't mortal damage, of course, but to use the 7th Gate for the first time like this...It certainly made him...Rather tired. No, 'rather' didn't make it justice. He was...Really tired. He could feel his Chakra going back to the inside of his body, as his normal appearence came back...His vision blurrying itself more and more...

The world seemed to go to slow motion as he fell, his haori flapping into the wind. All of them...They sure were giving their best to save the world, weren't they? Of course...Some of their interests weren't kind such as his and Inqui's...Still...To see them all here, in this moment...Going forward against all odds....

It really made him happy he was a part of this family.

In a single moment, Ocaeril's Truth Seeking Orbs would then shape themselves as a spear, as suddenly, Space Time Shifted, as with the last of his Chakra, he teleported it into the middle of Krankle's head.

As Ocaeril fell down, he would look up at the moon, the stars, and the sky above, and regardless if he hit or not, he would say one last thing before his body hit the snow bellow him.

Never...Give up...


SPLASH​

With a thumbs up towards the sky and a smile, Ocaeril's eyes slowly closed, as unconsciousness hit him.

Ocaeril didn't respond. The god was clearly alive, yet...His entire body was filled with cracks. His muscles were torn open, and his body whiter then it usually was. His natural green glow on his tattoos were glowing dimmer and dimmer, and he didn't respond. Assyrian's and Ickol's help did manage to earn an gasp from him, but...Something. Something was pulling him away. Something wasn't working. The air seemed to be getting lifeless around him, as they would notice a single thing.

Demonic energy.

It was extremely purified, and almost gone, but it was definitely the energy of a demon- a powerful one, too. It didn't seem to have hold of him, but it's energy was travelling in his body, and leaving like hot steam. Low breaths exited his mouth, as Ocaeril was struggling to wake up.

Amanwithnolifenofamilynofateamanbornfromfoolishnessbornfrommadnessamanwhosewishistobewithonewholoveshimamanwothnolifenodestinynolovealonrlybpystandsatopalonelywoorldheistheonlyonethereisandshalleverbe

Inside the mind of the planet, he slowly sunk into a void...

Dark.

Ocaeril, once more, was in a primordial darkness of the likes he's only seen once. A darkness that seemed to be an ocean, and at the same time, the space itself. It was long and infinite, and cold. As he fell through this abyss of nothing, he could only hear faint whispers back towards the top. Soft prayers, cries for help, wishes, so on, so forth.

He didn't understand a single thing that was going on.

He tried moving his leg. Can't. Too tired.

He tried opening his eyes. They're either already open and it's just that dark, or he's too tired again.

Movement. Denied.

Thoughts? Just barely.

It's cold...

「Well, that sure as hell is true. Hey, didn't you create like, cold or sumthin?」

A new voice came into his mind. He tried to move around, but the voice seemed to be present in all places at all times. That, and he couldn't move an inch. Was he even falling anymore into this dark abyss? Was he even alive? This must be the afterlife. What a way to go. Dead by using your own powers...

「...Okay, sure, you can ignore my question there. Really kind of you, pal. Then again, the answer was no. It was your daddy who made that, wasn't it? The llama? Arceus?」

...Arceus. Ocaeril could feel his muscles tensing at the name.

「O~hohoho! I hit a nerve, didn't I? I getcha, I getcha, guy is a dick, at the end of the day. Like, I bet he thinks his own is the size of the universe!」

The voice laughed. It was mocking in nature. There was something just wrong about it. Something deep and unnerving, like speaking to a joker. A clown, someone who constantly smiles and tries to make a fool of himself. Something like....

「...A liar?」 Even with no visual, Ocaeril could tell the voice was grinning. 「Thats golden coming from you, man. Me, a liar? Nah, my smiles fake, that's all. Nope, if anyone's a liar, it's you, buddy! 」

Ocaeril groaned. He could feel himself tensing more and more. He wanted out. He wanted out of whatever this place was. He didn't want this anymore. He knew where he was going, he was--

「The one who is the kindest of them all wears a fake smile on his face, because deep down, he knows nobody will give one back, right? Yes, with smiles, there is friendship. But within friendship, there is reassurance upon ones self. That's how you manipulate your own heart, isn't it, homunculus?」

...His body felt weightless. Homunculus. He wasn't an...He wasn't an...!

「You act kind with the others because you want people to care about you. You created life because you want to CARE for someone. Care for someone just like daddy didn't. It's adorable, isn't it? The son wanting to give his children the father they never had. And yet, you don't feel a thing, do you? No, this Pantheon is the worst of them all. So you don't feel a thing.」

That's not true. He cares for his children. He cares for his brothers and sisters. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here today! He wouldn't care! He wouldn't be saving them! They're all- They're all important to him! And he's not a homunculus! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself--

「Because deep down, you're just a lost child looking for his parents.」

...

Curling himself up into a ball, Ocaeril softly weeped.

His cries were akin to a child. A lost, hopeless child just like he said. He was right, wasn't he? He was just a fool. A fool who wears the title of a Father because he never had one. A fool who cannot even take care of himself. A fool who wants recognition. He's someone who's just...Who's just never learned a thing. He grows, and yet...

Happy Krassmass...

A small, glowing mark of a hand appeared on his back, as Ocaeril stopped crying for a single moment, before continuing.

As Ocaeril fell, Inqui roared a mighty roar as she went to Ocaeril's body, she cradled it near to her body as she started to heavily leak tears.

"Ocaeril! No! Nononononononononononononononono-please just! No!"

She wept harder as she cradled Ocaeril's body harder, Ocaeril's condition broke her heart, this wasn't supposed to happen! Why this! Why?! Why like this! As Inqui planted her face on Ocaeril's chest, she knew what she had to do.

She was the patron of heroes, and the one thing that heroes always do, they sacrificed, and if Inqui had to sacrifice her life to bring back Ocaeril? So be it, Inqui diverted all of her divine energy into Ocaeril in an effort to heal him, even when she felt weaker and weaker, so weak that her body desired to just sleep, she didn't care, she had to give it her all, for him.

 

[KolastoRPN]

Dark.

Ocaeril, once more, was in a primordial darkness of the likes he's only seen once. A darkness that seemed to be an ocean, and at the same time, the space itself. It was long and infinite, and cold. As he fell through this abyss of nothing, he could only hear faint whispers back towards the top. Soft prayers, cries for help, wishes, so on, so forth.

He didn't understand a single thing that was going on.

He tried moving his leg. Can't. Too tired.

He tried opening his eyes. They're either already open and it's just that dark, or he's too tired again.

Movement. Denied.

Thoughts? Just barely.

It's cold...

「Well, that sure as hell is true. Hey, didn't you create like, cold or sumthin?」

A new voice came into his mind. He tried to move around, but the voice seemed to be present in all places at all times. That, and he couldn't move an inch. Was he even falling anymore into this dark abyss? Was he even alive? This must be the afterlife. What a way to go. Dead by using your own powers...

「...Okay, sure, you can ignore my question there. Really kind of you, pal. Then again, the answer was no. It was your daddy who made that, wasn't it? The llama? Arceus?」

...Arceus. Ocaeril could feel his muscles tensing at the name.

「O~hohoho! I hit a nerve, didn't I? I getcha, I getcha, guy is a dick, at the end of the day. Like, I bet he thinks his own is the size of the universe!」

The voice laughed. It was mocking in nature. There was something just wrong about it. Something deep and unnerving, like speaking to a joker. A clown, someone who constantly smiles and tries to make a fool of himself. Something like....

「...A liar?」 Even with no visual, Ocaeril could tell the voice was grinning. 「Thats golden coming from you, man. Me, a liar? Nah, my smiles fake, that's all. Nope, if anyone's a liar, it's you, buddy! 」

Ocaeril groaned. He could feel himself tensing more and more. He wanted out. He wanted out of whatever this place was. He didn't want this anymore. He knew where he was going, he was--

「The one who is the kindest of them all wears a fake smile on his face, because deep down, he knows nobody will give one back, right? Yes, with smiles, there is friendship. But within friendship, there is reassurance upon ones self. That's how you manipulate your own heart, isn't it, homunculus?」

...His body felt weightless. Homunculus. He wasn't an...He wasn't an...!

「You act kind with the others because you want people to care about you. You created life because you want to CARE for someone. Care for someone just like daddy didn't. It's adorable, isn't it? The son wanting to give his children the father they never had. And yet, you don't feel a thing, do you? No, this Pantheon is the worst of them all. So you don't feel a thing.」

That's not true. He cares for his children. He cares for his brothers and sisters. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here today! He wouldn't care! He wouldn't be saving them! They're all- They're all important to him! And he's not a homunculus! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself--

「Because deep down, you're just a lost child looking for his parents.」

...

Curling himself up into a ball, Ocaeril softly weeped.

His cries were akin to a child. A lost, hopeless child just like he said. He was right, wasn't he? He was just a fool. A fool who wears the title of a Father because he never had one. A fool who cannot even take care of himself. A fool who wants recognition. He's someone who's just...Who's just never learned a thing. He grows, and yet...

Happy Krassmass...

A small, glowing mark of a hand appeared on his back, as Ocaeril stopped crying for a single moment, before continuing.

Helsa, winding herself free of the icicles, turned towards Ocaeril.

W...What's going on with him?

Ocaeril wasn't moving. He was just...lying quiet on the ground.

Something in her felt...cold at seeing him.

I...I'm the Goddess of Corruption...I shouldn't feel like this.

And yet...

I..I-I can use Ocaeril for my plans later, yes. I can't let myself lose a tool right now. I DON'T care about him, he's just a tool.

And with that, streams of energy from her wove underneath the ice towards Ocaeril, slowly entering in an attempt to heal him.

He's just a tool to me, he's just a tool, just a tool...

 

[Celestial Speck]

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

「Go.」

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

Somewhere within his dream, Death the Almighty laughed.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

 

[Gravitys Momentum]

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

Arms that were dragging Ocaeril into Joe’s mouth suddenly let go and Joe spit him out.

“Ahh man, you weren’t dead? Bummer. Well I’m gonna go now. See ya guys next half century.”

 

[KolastoRPN]

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

Helsa looked down at the flowers in confusion.

Well, at least my tool is okay. She thought to herself, pointedly ignoring the relief that went through her chest. He's just a tool, nothing more.

"Ickol, if you throw any of these flowers at me I will throttle you." She said calmly.

 

[Stikes]

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."​

Kurantse, still half-asleep, begins to clap slowly. "Huzzah, it's a frickin' Krassmass miracle in our time. Now, can you all quiet down? Give a god his rest, eh?"

 

[BlackCat-055]

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

「Go.」

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

Somewhere within his dream, Death the Almighty laughed.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

Inqui gasped as she felt the soft hand on her cheek, she looked at the waking Ocaeril with joyful tears.

"O-Ocaeril! You're alive! Oh my ROB! You're alive!"

She embraced Ocaeril with a heartfelt embrace and kissed him deeply in the lips, she then rested her head on Ocaeril's chest in happiness that her friend is okay.

Things are fine and she can take a rest for now, just a bit till she does her actions.

 

[Poetic Prose Master]

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

「Go.」

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

Somewhere within his dream, Death the Almighty laughed.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

Assyiran Conversation:
The crimson God looked down on the fool. His eyes were dry simmering orbs of bronze. His knuckles were clenched in the shape of a snarl. He looked to the fool with a stern gaze. "Those who give their life to glory's flame without regard for those around them, turn the connections of the world to ash." Assyrian brought a hand down on a damaged Chakra point with zero gentle regard. He drew out a angry rebuke from between his lips,"This "technique" is a insult to the treasure of life you possess. Using it is a blow to her and others.

You will learn better with Chi then this Chakra."

Assyrian's voice was a angry glare, a gleam of a hot blade, the glow of a searing spear. The steam that seeped from his eyes was sweat, nothing more, and nothing less.

 

[Celestial Speck]

Arms that were dragging Ocaeril into Joe’s mouth suddenly let go and Joe spit him out.

“Ahh man, you weren’t dead? Bummer. Well I’m gonna go now. See ya guys next half century.”

Helsa looked down at the flowers in confusion.

Well, at least my tool is okay. She thought to herself, pointedly ignoring the relief that went through her chest. He's just a tool, nothing more.

"Ickol, if you throw any of these flowers at me I will throttle you." She said calmly.

Kurantse, still half-asleep, begins to clap slowly. "Huzzah, it's a frickin' Krassmass miracle in our time. Now, can you all quiet down? Give a god his rest, eh?"

Inqui gasped as she felt the soft hand on her cheek, she looked at the waking Ocaeril with joyful tears.

"O-Ocaeril! You're alive! Oh my ROB! You're alive!"

She embraced Ocaeril with a heartfelt embrace and kissed him deeply in the lips, she then rested her head on Ocaeril's chest in happiness that her friend is okay.

Things are fine and she can take a rest for now, just a bit till she does her actions.

Ocaeril's awakening, was, just like he expected it, rather weird. Watching as Joe spat his feet out earned a face of panic as he looked at him behind Inqui, already feeling the cold snow freeze his spit that probably had a lot of nutrients. Helsa's reaction also earned a look of surprise from him, as deep down, he could tell she was relieved. Of course, the fact he was filled to the brim with coins also didn't help the cold aspect, but ah, what can he do?

But...The thing that earned an reaction the most from him was Inqui.

Chu~

The kiss made the god's albino face heat up even more. For a moment, the gods could have sworn he opened the 7th gate once more, as he clearly wasn't expecting something like...This. But...Soon after, the god wrapped his arms around the patron's waist, and soon, gave back his own kiss. It felt like hours for him, and his heart wanted to jump out, the North Pole suddenly getting a bit hotter...

Soon, as she pulled away...He smiled, and held her closely.

"I love you too..."

Assyiran Conversation:
The crimson God looked down on the fool. His eyes were dry simmering orbs of bronze. His knuckles were clenched in the shape of a snarl. He looked to the fool with a stern gaze. "Those who give their life to glory's flame without regard for those around them, turn the connections of the world to ash." Assyrian brought a hand down on a damaged Chakra point with zero gentle regard. He drew out a angry rebuke from between his lips,"This "technique" is a insult to the treasure of life you possess. Using it is a blow to her and others.

You will learn better with Chi then this Chakra."

Assyrian's voice was a angry glare, a gleam of a hot blade, the glow of a searing spear. The steam that seeped from his eyes was sweat, nothing more, and nothing less.

The voice of Assyrian caused Ocaeril to turn around, and soon, as he spoke, a face of shame appeared on his face. His words were true, and Ocaeril didn't interrupt him once, allowing him to speak.

Soon, Ocaeril stood quiet for a few seconds, before...Getting up, still holding Inqui with one of his arms, but having one up. He was still weak and wobbly, but...Be was walking towards Assyrian, before he spoke. "I know...It was selfish of me...But...To open the gates means giving away your body to protect those you love. Even if it means making them lose you...It was foolish of me, but..."

Ocaeril then clenched a fist, and placed it on Assyrian's chest, a grin on his face.

"I wouldn't have it either way. I promise you, friend, I won't die."

 

[Churl]

End of Krassmas

"FINALLY!" Helsa screams, as Krass finally dies. Of course, she then notices that Kurantse is starting to get Krass-ified.

"OH HELL NO, I AM NOT GETTING KRASSIFIED!" With a shriek of rage, she shot a giant blast of corruption at...Kurantse? But this wasn't a normal corruption blast. This one was filled with Wrath. One specifically meant to make Kurantse VIOLENTLY furious at the tree. As they hit Kurantse, he felt as if the tree was everything he hated.

The merchant god struggles to raise the axe again, even as his arms go weak from the exposure to Krassmass energy. He tries to channel his own divine telekinesis into his arm, giving him just enough strength to fell the tree... but it's blocked. His limbs are too saturated with festive magic to influence.

Oh well, he thinks, the axe beginning to slip out of his frozen fingers, It would be a damn good moneymaking opportunity though, eh?


As the wave of wrathful power flow around and through him, his grip tightens once more. "Actually, on second thought? Fuck that!"

He hefts the axe once more, biting into the tree - but not toppling it. He rears back again, small portals forming in the air. Gold flows from them and onto the axe's haft, coating it. "If I make money off of Krassmass, it'll be on my own terms!"

The blade cleaves through the air again, this time almost too fast to see, and accompanied by a loud crack and wave of displaced air. It cleaves cleanly through the giant evergreen, which teeters, then begins to fall.

With thoughts of money-making opportunities and a hatred for Krassmas and a distressing thought experiment he had dubbed ‘communism’, Kurantse smashs the axe into the tree one final time. A wave of energy erupted from the tree as it died, shattering the axe and knocking the gods away. Kurantse could feel warm again, all Krassmasification gone from his avatar.

Across the North Pole, the wave travelled, taking a bit of wonder with it. The snow was no longer sparkling and powdery but dull and empty. The surviving Snow minions and Gremlins disintegrated as the wave hit them, and when it reached the Krassmas workshop complex it left only an abandoned wreckage of a building as it collapsed in on itself without Krassmas magic.

Ocaeril didn't respond. The god was clearly alive, yet...His entire body was filled with cracks. His muscles were torn open, and his body whiter then it usually was. His natural green glow on his tattoos were glowing dimmer and dimmer, and he didn't respond. Assyrian's and Ickol's help did manage to earn an gasp from him, but...Something. Something was pulling him away. Something wasn't working. The air seemed to be getting lifeless around him, as they would notice a single thing.

Demonic energy.

It was extremely purified, and almost gone, but it was definitely the energy of a demon- a powerful one, too. It didn't seem to have hold of him, but it's energy was travelling in his body, and leaving like hot steam. Low breaths exited his mouth, as Ocaeril was struggling to wake up.

Amanwithnolifenofamilynofateamanbornfromfoolishnessbornfrommadnessamanwhosewishistobewithonewholoveshimamanwothnolifenodestinynolovealonrlybpystandsatopalonelywoorldheistheonlyonethereisandshalleverbe

Inside the mind of the planet, he slowly sunk into a void...

Joe went to feed off the energies coming off of Ocaeril, mmmm, the aroma.

Ickol began to kick him in the head repeatedly.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not...today. Don’t...be...a...butt...about...this. You...better...not...be...thinking...in...my...color, because...that’s...my...thing. I...do...cool...purple, you...get...gross...yellow. Get...up. Get...up. I...swear...if...you...choose...now...to...snap...I’m...killing...you. I...have...a...wicked...headache. I’m...done...with...things...today. No...things...in...this...area, no...siree. You...can...die...tomorrow, but...I...need...a...nap. Next...kick...goes...between...the...legs...if...you...keep...making...this...a...thing.”

Kurantse staggers over to the forming huddle, obviously dead tired. "Shut. Yellow'sa great color. Gold's is, is better though," he slurs out.

He opens a portal over Ocaeril, dumping a pile of coins on top of the insensate god. "There's your present. Happy-" he yawns "- Happy Krassmass. Pay me back later."

The Trickster then falls over and starts snoring.

Dark.

Ocaeril, once more, was in a primordial darkness of the likes he's only seen once. A darkness that seemed to be an ocean, and at the same time, the space itself. It was long and infinite, and cold. As he fell through this abyss of nothing, he could only hear faint whispers back towards the top. Soft prayers, cries for help, wishes, so on, so forth.

He didn't understand a single thing that was going on.

He tried moving his leg. Can't. Too tired.

He tried opening his eyes. They're either already open and it's just that dark, or he's too tired again.

Movement. Denied.

Thoughts? Just barely.

It's cold...

「Well, that sure as hell is true. Hey, didn't you create like, cold or sumthin?」

A new voice came into his mind. He tried to move around, but the voice seemed to be present in all places at all times. That, and he couldn't move an inch. Was he even falling anymore into this dark abyss? Was he even alive? This must be the afterlife. What a way to go. Dead by using your own powers...

「...Okay, sure, you can ignore my question there. Really kind of you, pal. Then again, the answer was no. It was your daddy who made that, wasn't it? The llama? Arceus?」

...Arceus. Ocaeril could feel his muscles tensing at the name.

「O~hohoho! I hit a nerve, didn't I? I getcha, I getcha, guy is a dick, at the end of the day. Like, I bet he thinks his own is the size of the universe!」

The voice laughed. It was mocking in nature. There was something just wrong about it. Something deep and unnerving, like speaking to a joker. A clown, someone who constantly smiles and tries to make a fool of himself. Something like....

「...A liar?」 Even with no visual, Ocaeril could tell the voice was grinning. 「Thats golden coming from you, man. Me, a liar? Nah, my smiles fake, that's all. Nope, if anyone's a liar, it's you, buddy! 」

Ocaeril groaned. He could feel himself tensing more and more. He wanted out. He wanted out of whatever this place was. He didn't want this anymore. He knew where he was going, he was--

「The one who is the kindest of them all wears a fake smile on his face, because deep down, he knows nobody will give one back, right? Yes, with smiles, there is friendship. But within friendship, there is reassurance upon ones self. That's how you manipulate your own heart, isn't it, homunculus?」

...His body felt weightless. Homunculus. He wasn't an...He wasn't an...!

「You act kind with the others because you want people to care about you. You created life because you want to CARE for someone. Care for someone just like daddy didn't. It's adorable, isn't it? The son wanting to give his children the father they never had. And yet, you don't feel a thing, do you? No, this Pantheon is the worst of them all. So you don't feel a thing.」

That's not true. He cares for his children. He cares for his brothers and sisters. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here today! He wouldn't care! He wouldn't be saving them! They're all- They're all important to him! And he's not a homunculus! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself! He's himself--

「Because deep down, you're just a lost child looking for his parents.」

...

Curling himself up into a ball, Ocaeril softly weeped.

His cries were akin to a child. A lost, hopeless child just like he said. He was right, wasn't he? He was just a fool. A fool who wears the title of a Father because he never had one. A fool who cannot even take care of himself. A fool who wants recognition. He's someone who's just...Who's just never learned a thing. He grows, and yet...

Happy Krassmass...

A small, glowing mark of a hand appeared on his back, as Ocaeril stopped crying for a single moment, before continuing.

As Ocaeril fell, Inqui roared a mighty roar as she went to Ocaeril's body, she cradled it near to her body as she started to heavily leak tears.

"Ocaeril! No! Nononononononononononononononono-please just! No!"

She wept harder as she cradled Ocaeril's body harder, Ocaeril's condition broke her heart, this wasn't supposed to happen! Why this! Why?! Why like this! As Inqui planted her face on Ocaeril's chest, she knew what she had to do.

She was the patron of heroes, and the one thing that heroes always do, they sacrificed, and if Inqui had to sacrifice her life to bring back Ocaeril? So be it, Inqui diverted all of her divine energy into Ocaeril in an effort to heal him, even when she felt weaker and weaker, so weak that her body desired to just sleep, she didn't care, she had to give it her all, for him.

Helsa, winding herself free of the icicles, turned towards Ocaeril.

W...What's going on with him?

Ocaeril wasn't moving. He was just...lying quiet on the ground.

Something in her felt...cold at seeing him.

I...I'm the Goddess of Corruption...I shouldn't feel like this.

And yet...

I..I-I can use Ocaeril for my plans later, yes. I can't let myself lose a tool right now. I DON'T care about him, he's just a tool.

And with that, streams of energy from her wove underneath the ice towards Ocaeril, slowly entering in an attempt to heal him.

He's just a tool to me, he's just a tool, just a tool...

Ping, ping...Ping...

Soft liquids made out of light fell down. The skies above his mind started to shine. The darkness was confused. Each time a god spoke, each time they prayed, more and more hands appeared on his body. The mark of hands each glowing a bright, yellow light...All of them seeming to carry a message from their soul to his within them.

Don't give up.
You're not meant to die yet!
Pay me back later.
Not yet, I'll always lift you up.
You're a tool, don't think of this as anything else!
Fool, don't die yet.

The voice from before slowly got more and more of their presence hidden away. The shadow looming around Ocaeril seemed to be slowly disappearing, as his sobs stopped. His head soon turned around, looking at his glowing body, each having a different handprint on it...Familiar hands. Hands that gave him warmth. Hands that were lifting him up...

More and more hands appeared, smaller in size, but each containing a miniscule power of it's own. Each carrying a message. Either it be 'thank yous' or anything else, they all seemed to make his heart beat faster and faster.

Burn my dread

「...」

They didn't reply, simply...Watching this all happen. The nothingness of the abyss inside Ocaeril's own mind seemed to be raining white light on it, as each 'drop' formed a flower on the ground. A flower that shined more and more the darkness around him. A flower that soon died out, and gave life to other ones. Flowers that made him...Comfortable.

No...You're wrong...

A hand of his own was put down on the ground, as he slowly had his mind filled. Heroes. Friends. Family. His children, the future, a promise made in time...A bond that cannot be broken...A smile he promised never to wipe out his face...A selfish god...Those thoughts, those sweet memories, alongside the prayers, slowly lifted him up...

I will

Burn my dread

And as the god life stood up, all the dark in the abyss became a pure light.

Grass and trees grew around him. The sun shined with honor and selfless in the sky. Animals of all kinds wandered the land, as endless hills leading to endless lands stood in front of him. This is how it should be. This is how it always should be, here...

He put a hand on his heart. His shadow watched him curiosity.

This Pantheon...This family...

Its the best I could have ever hoped for.

The cries of a girl could be heard coming from the sky, the voices of other important figures to him were also there. Billions of children crying out for their father, and his brothers and sisters all contributing to pull him out.

They saved him. Not from death, but...

「It's not cool to let a girl cry.」

It isn't, is it.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, as looking behind him one last time, Ocaeril saw another figure.

A child. Black and yellow stripes, blonde hair...And blue eyes, staring at him, as if waiting for something. The child smiled. Ocaeril smiled back, looking back the sky. He could hear words being told to him, and yet, he didn't hear them. This dream had been too confusing already, and he can't afford to let the girl he likes cry forever like that.

Ba-dump

Ba---DUMP!

And with one last smile, Ocaeril took a step forward, not affording to look back.

-------------
​

...A soft hand was placed on Inqui's cheek.

His eyes were teary, despite just stopping doing so where he was. A large smile was on his face, as the god stroked her face with care.

"Don't...Worry." He said, those words almost being like it was someone's elses business. "As long as you're here...As long as you're all here...

I won't...Die."
​

With a smile, Ocaeril placed his head on Inqui's forehead, and despite the snowy ground bellow him, flowers bloomed all over the North Pole.

Burn my dread...​

Arms that were dragging Ocaeril into Joe’s mouth suddenly let go and Joe spit him out.

“Ahh man, you weren’t dead? Bummer. Well I’m gonna go now. See ya guys next half century.”

Helsa looked down at the flowers in confusion.

Well, at least my tool is okay. She thought to herself, pointedly ignoring the relief that went through her chest. He's just a tool, nothing more.

"Ickol, if you throw any of these flowers at me I will throttle you." She said calmly.

Kurantse, still half-asleep, begins to clap slowly. "Huzzah, it's a frickin' Krassmass miracle in our time. Now, can you all quiet down? Give a god his rest, eh?"

Inqui gasped as she felt the soft hand on her cheek, she looked at the waking Ocaeril with joyful tears.

"O-Ocaeril! You're alive! Oh my ROB! You're alive!"

She embraced Ocaeril with a heartfelt embrace and kissed him deeply in the lips, she then rested her head on Ocaeril's chest in happiness that her friend is okay.

Things are fine and she can take a rest for now, just a bit till she does her actions.

Assyiran Conversation:
The crimson God looked down on the fool. His eyes were dry simmering orbs of bronze. His knuckles were clenched in the shape of a snarl. He looked to the fool with a stern gaze. "Those who give their life to glory's flame without regard for those around them, turn the connections of the world to ash." Assyrian brought a hand down on a damaged Chakra point with zero gentle regard. He drew out a angry rebuke from between his lips,"This "technique" is a insult to the treasure of life you possess. Using it is a blow to her and others.

You will learn better with Chi then this Chakra."

Assyrian's voice was a angry glare, a gleam of a hot blade, the glow of a searing spear. The steam that seeped from his eyes was sweat, nothing more, and nothing less.

Ocaeril's awakening, was, just like he expected it, rather weird. Watching as Joe spat his feet out earned a face of panic as he looked at him behind Inqui, already feeling the cold snow freeze his spit that probably had a lot of nutrients. Helsa's reaction also earned a look of surprise from him, as deep down, he could tell she was relieved. Of course, the fact he was filled to the brim with coins also didn't help the cold aspect, but ah, what can he do?

But...The thing that earned an reaction the most from him was Inqui.

Chu~

The kiss made the god's albino face heat up even more. For a moment, the gods could have sworn he opened the 7th gate once more, as he clearly wasn't expecting something like...This. But...Soon after, the god wrapped his arms around the patron's waist, and soon, gave back his own kiss. It felt like hours for him, and his heart wanted to jump out, the North Pole suddenly getting a bit hotter...

Soon, as she pulled away...He smiled, and held her closely.

"I love you too..."



The voice of Assyrian caused Ocaeril to turn around, and soon, as he spoke, a face of shame appeared on his face. His words were true, and Ocaeril didn't interrupt him once, allowing him to speak.

Soon, Ocaeril stood quiet for a few seconds, before...Getting up, still holding Inqui with one of his arms, but having one up. He was still weak and wobbly, but...Be was walking towards Assyrian, before he spoke. "I know...It was selfish of me...But...To open the gates means giving away your body to protect those you love. Even if it means making them lose you...It was foolish of me, but..."

Ocaeril then clenched a fist, and placed it on Assyrian's chest, a grin on his face.

"I wouldn't have it either way. I promise you, friend, I won't die."

Ickol clutched at her heart dramatically and gaped at Helsa.
“Come...on, where’s...your...Krassmas...spirit, babe?! I...didn’t...even...get...the...chance...this...cycle...because...of...the...Krass...stuff. Have...a...heart!”

With the words of...encouragement (some at least, were offered) Ocaeril awoke. Behind the gods, the Christmas summoned finally caught up, not as fast as the deities.

Santa, the three spirits, and the Grunch knockoff all bowed.

“I don’t know if you truly understand or care, but you did Christmas a great service tonight.”

“It’s...Krassmas, you...senile...dolt.”

“Of course, how silly of me. Ho Ho Ho!”

The gods tense at the odd laughter on reflex, but this ‘Santa’ character again takes a bow.

“I’m afraid the true creator of this...holiday may not have created a true representation of the giving spirit. But, before we go, allow us to show you what that looks like, if you would?”

To Kurantse, he wraps the unconscious god in blankets that warm him despite the cold and the experience with felling the tree. He also places two coins of metals not found on Ocaeril besides the sleeping form.

To Joe, he gives the god a foul smelling flower, one that he can tell will live for centuries, maybe millennia if he cares for it right. A silent companion, to always have with him.

To Ickol, he gives a disapproving look, and just assured her that her gift to herself will work.

To Cardicarious, on the other side of the planet, a binder chock full of new playing cards appears.

To Rhubarion, a slip of paper revealing the true killer of JFK. Given that the god doesn’t know who that is, it’s not actually the most well thought out gift after all, but it’ll certainly tease his mind for the next week.

To Assyrian, he gives a pair of fighting gloves, the Warrior’s own words inscribed on the wrists. So that he can always remember to practice what he preaches, and in his darkest times reflect on what he’s fighting for.

To Helsa, Inqui, and Ocaeril, he shakes his head. “I’m afraid I don’t believe I have the same capabilities in this world to send you where you wish, Ms. Inqui. Or give Helsa or Ocaeril what they truly desire. You wish for something I’m not the right person to give. Still, it would be poor form to not reward you, so perhaps we can let you reward each other.”

The Ghost of Christmas Past steps forth, and raises her hand. Almost like a montage, the happiest memories of each deity plays in their minds. Not just since the start of the cycles, but even Inqui’s memories of home, and especially their memories of each other. Everything is fresh, like they are experiencing it all again for the first time at once, and they can recall all the joy they found in one another. The stress of this evening on Inqui, Helsa’s confusion about her feelings towards the two, Ocaeril’s previous despair, all of it seems like a distant memory. But this, this feels real. The spirits again bow, and dissolve.

“I’m afraid our time here is up. Do thank Cardicarious for giving us this chance, will you? I haven’t had this much excitement in years! Oh Ho Ho Ho!”

Santa and the Grinch waved to the deities as they too dissolved, wishing the gang a merry Christmas (whatever the heck that was) and a happy New Year.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Ickol was tired, and Ocaeril’s decision to collapse and give the others a scare certainly wasn’t helping matters. That loser. He was probably dreaming in anime, wasn’t he? Thinking some dorky thoughts about friendship and connection and family, and maybe even assigning some of those thoughts to her!

She shuddered.

“Yeah, that was shounen as hell. Say, how do you know what anime is, anyway?”

Now that she thought about it, what was-

“WAIT WHY ARE YOU HERE?!”

Ickol spun around, pointing her spear at Krangle Red.

“Oh oh oh? Relax, gal. Y’all did it! You saved Krassmas! Hurray!”

“No. I’m...pretty...sure...we...tried...to...destroy...it. Because...it...was...awful. And...no...one...liked...it.”

“No hard feelings, I destroy things I love all the time! Especially when I’m actually trying to save them! Anywho, looks like I’m Krass number one, now! Well, I’m not quite feeling the magic like I used to, but maybe that’s just the tree. But I certainly had fun, tell me, will it be like this next time?”

“Next...time? Yeah, not...happening...guy. To...death...you..go.”

She thrust the spear into him, but nothing happened.

“I’ve already said goodbye to the world for now, what you’re seeing is a hologram. Remember to ask for a projector for Krassmas! These things are state of the art! For example, you can’t lay a finger on me, while I-”

He sauntered over to Joe and gave him a mocking, sloppy kiss, Bugs Bunny style.

“Mwah! See you folks next year. Well, not really. I’m not talking to you lot. Or am I? I don’t even know, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! One things for certain, this place sure is interesting! I mean seriously, take a good look at the night I’ve been having. I’m not the one that had to fight you guys, and I still don’t feel like a million bucks.”

True enough, Krass Red seems mangled. He’s covered in wounds and burns, nursing a broken arm, and has a bit of tar and feathers on him.

“You guys won’t believe this! Okay, so the first half of the night I’m killing folks, making good progress, all that. I stop by some backwater town with some cool people I had picked up along the way, and these villagers kill them all and manage to chase me off! That’s embarrassing enough, but I decide to head to Camelot, maybe corrupt it with Krassmas magic somehow? Nope! There was some kind of fight there, and I got blown sky high and landed across the continent! And that was after the giant monster stepped on me! And then there was that blonde kid, with all the traps in his house. That was the worse part, I’ll be having nightmares about that lunatic for weeks. And don’t even get me started on the slime and her elf boyfriend. All I managed was to leave a nasty scar on the guy’s pretty face. I seriously thought she was going to kill me! Ha! I can’t wait to see what lunacy there’ll be the next time I’m in the neighborhood! Toodle-ooo! Oh, and since it’s not the holidays without a musical number-”

As the Krass hologram closed, a song began to play.

Spoiler

I don't want a lot for Krassmas
There is just one thing for me
I don’t care about the presents
Especially the ones that make you scream
I don't need to hang my dolls
So Krangle will stuff their cotton flesh
Because there’s only one thing
That can make my heart pump fresh.

I just want to hold you tight.
Drown out the laughter, tell me it’ll be alright
Make my wish come true
All I want for Krassmas is you
You, baby

I won't ask for much this Krassmas
Really though we never do
Still we know he’ll come deliver
Things that will make us confused

I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Krassmas tricks
I won't even stay awake
To hear those were-mongoose nails click

'Cause I just want you here tonight
Lying that we’ll be alright
What more can I do
Oh, Baby all I want for Krassmas is you

All the homes are burning
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of Drow yearning
Fills the air

And everyone is fleeing
As the alarms start ringing
Krass won't you bring me
The one I really need
Won't you please bring my baby in one piece!

I don't want a lot for Krassmas
Just the same number of limbs on both of us
And for the mall Krangle
In front of children to not cuss

I just want you for my own
Tie you up within my home
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Krassmas is you!

When the sun eventually rose, it found different sights.

In the cave, Randal had awoken, but was still too injured to move much beyond slipping off on of his hooves so his hand underneath could undo the top of a flask. As he took a pained sip, he smiled, and poured the rest out for the god that spared him.

“This one’s for you, ya crazy sonuvabitch. Merry Krassmas, ya filthy animal.”

Elsewhere, an angel still lay asleep, his admittingly-lyrically-lacking song silenced. Speaking of silence, its knight had awoken, but was still far too weak to move, or to worry about what the future might hold. Instead, he just reaches for something that’s real, and cradles the arm of the unconscious Holy.

At the foot of a mountain, a group of Corven’s followers found themselves a little richer, as a lazy green creature decided to give them some of the ‘confiscated’ artifacts. The rest were either returned, or, if the owners had been visited by Krass Red, were donated to Kurantse’s followers. As he delivered the last of his spoils, the Grunch collapsed in an arm chair, and had some fruitcake. And then spat out said fruitcake.

And in a village where a man that was more than a man had given them what they now thought was the greatest gift of all, the people rejoiced. They allowed themselves a breath of relief. It was dark work, killing the maniacs that had attacked them, but necessary. They would reflect on this violence, but later. For now, they celebrated. Not the destruction of life, not their survival, and certainly not the bizarre holiday. Instead, they just celebrated each other, and the god that had given them so much yet pushed them to earn it.

And in Camelot, the battle raged, a resurrected monster looking with hatred in her eyes as in the castle a blonde woman had a similar rage in hers. They had a cold determination, and regardless of the battles waged last night, and the celebration today, the warriors of Camelot and their foe had no thoughts but the destruction of the other force.

And in the woods where the couple had fought a faux-god shortly after their battle with three of his servants, Marah tended to her husband’s face. He winced, but had no fear, no rage, nothing but joy that in this moment, even like this, him and the woman he loved were together. And Marah, hero for, of, and with all, felt the same. And they smiled.

And in a village, a red and white bird released a pink cat from his round device. He apologized profusely to the creature, which still nuzzled him in forgiveness. Maybe the cat’s father would not be so forgiving, but for now, Delibird felt brave enough to do the right thing, regardless of if he should meet his end by the days end.

And the light opened on a hefty man, half dead but triumphant, the broken head of a glass beast in his hands.

And in the dreamlands, as the closest thing to his brother sank to the bottom of an ocean, Krass laughed as his weasels pulled his holiday hearse onwards, mind abuzz with the possibilities of future fun in Ocaeril. But that can wait. For now, he was free. His brother had not succeeded, and he himself had been thrashed about, but he still smiled darkly at the carnage he had wrought.

And elsewhere in the dreamlands, an antlered woman stared at the head of her own counterpart. She reflected that maybe arranging everything so she would become Ocaeril’s spirit of Krassmas wasn’t the best example of her cost-benefit analyzation skills. Especially given all she would really get out of this was some extra prayers during the Krassmas season, if people could forget the terror of this night, and future ones should Red seek his revenge. Still, she reluctantly admitted she had fun. Sure, she had hoped Ocaeril and maybe a few others would die, but maybe this wasn’t such a bad outcome after all.

And as the new day dawned on Ocaeril, the truth became apparent. While this may have been far, far from the best Krassmas ever, thanks to the actions of the gods it could be said that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t

The Worst.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
The furry storyteller looked up as he closed the book.
“weLL? hOw DiD yOu LiKe tHiS HoLiDaY TaLe?”

The Drow man coughed politely. “I, ah, am unsure about how to react to this. Is this based on real events? Wait, was that why you replaced Krassmas with Kranksgiving? Did Krass seriously come alive?”

A box next to him didn’t say “Well done, father. This was a Yuletide epic of valor and pathos. A true classic of Krassmas. I’ll admit I am unsure what the moral is, though. Or who those people were. Well, besides Ms. Inqui, of course. If this story is rooted in truth, though, does that mean that is where Inqui disappeared to?”

“iT’s nOt iMpOrTaNt, dOn’T wOrRy aBoUt iT.”

“Then *why* did I just listen to this for several hours if this didn’t matter?! Oh, um, Lord.”

“bEcAuSe i FiGuReD tHe HoLiDaYs aRe tHe OnLy TiMe wE cOuLd gEt aWaY WiTh A CaMeo.”

End

Spoiler: Achievements

Krass-Kicking: Kill Krass Blue
Yule meet again: Krass Red escaped Ocaeril for sequel bait
Heart of Ice: Killed Jack Frost
Aimed for the head: Killed Cthistmas
Cruel Mercy: Spared the Knights and Harold
Her name was Mrs. Hopewell: Chopped down the Krassmas tree
You’re a nice one: Spared the Grunch
Hold the Deli-meat: Delibird was ignored, for now.
Offscreen moments of awesome: The Rhubarion cultist and Marah had epic battles. Maybe. They could have also been lame.
Everyone was working together: 9 gods participated in the special
Lasers and feelings: Spared Randall
This is fine: Corrupted the North Poke, maybe permanently.

 

[Celestial Speck]

Ocaeril Final Action: A New Dawn

​

As all came and went, Ocaeril stood on the North Pole with a relaxed expression.

The god still had tiredness present on his face. And yet, all of this seemed to not bother him. Despite his muscles being torn, despite his veins seemed ready to pop, all inside of him was calm. His mind felt like a gentle rain. His heart was calm, and his spirit seemed to be partying in joy. Of course, there was much confusion at first, such a vivid memory that Helsa of all people was part of his friend group long, long ago before her true commitment to corruption... And this Santa character certainly was a curious one. It was definitely what he expected 'Krassmass' to be, really.

Still, memories and... Conflicting emotions aside, Ocaeril felt the first breath of the new year dawn upon him, as the sun slowly rose in the distance. Things were certainly going to change, now. Maybe for the best, maybe for the worst, but they were certainly looking interesting for him, and all the other gods.

The Hall was filled with presents and proper Christ-- Ahem, Krassmass decorations, filled with gifts from one god to another. Mostly Ocaeril, though. Inqui had received his presence and cuddles, and Helsa had received a single black flower. Other gods also received various other things that would certainly become eternal artifacts for them, but definitely not like Santa's gifts.

A low him escaped Ocaeril's lips, as in his fingertips, small, golden strings appeared on his fingertips.

In the far, far West, a certain elf and slime arrived on a island with their companions. Despite the hard fought battle, and the permanent scar on the vice-leader's face, they knew the future was bright. Many construction tools were with them, as well as long term materials...As they stood on this barren island, Tuldor would strike against the earth, as kilometers upon kilometers of trees were made, and in the center of this island, a large pine tree stood, nearly reaching the skies...

Construction began, as the guild would soon pass their years together with one another. Some might find love, some might not, as the construction of a new barrier for the future would soon be constructed over time. Of course, some weird things also happened, such as weird, brown squid-like people would rise from the oceans and settle in, and help with construction. Despite their appearence, they would be welcome in the land.

The village would grow and prosper, being hidden in the middle of forest, being almost impossible to find and raid due to its positioning. Trading would be made, as the village would grow more and more, and so would Chakra. The warriors coming from such place would be forever be remembered, and create a new term for these powerful Chakra users.

Ninjas.

The name of this village would be Konoha, The Village Hidden in the Leaf. Tuldor Otsutsuki, his wife, and his companions, being forever remembered as the first heroes of the leaf, and those who would start a new age for Ocaeril.

Poetic Prose Master

Soon, Assyrian would also receive these strings in his realm, as Ocaeril continued staring into the wild.

Helsa's gift, however, would have a note attached on it. A single, simple note.

KolastoRPN

Thank you for the genuine emotions, all those years ago. And sorry for being a brat. Merry Christmas.

~~Ocaeril

A sigh escaped his lips, as Ocaeril smiled.

"Okay. I'm done for this cycle. Good night, children."

With that, Ocaeril teleported to a certain smiled goddess, and confessed his true emotions.

BlackCat-055

Space Buddha

 

[Gravitys Momentum]

Farmer Joe: Action 2

Joe will go plant the foul smelling flower on the main Plunt island and make them take care of it. He would make a field of these in time.

He unleashes a wave of bees that when they die explode into a bunch of flower seeds that grow instantaneously once they reach the ground. World needs a splash of color after this winter.

 

[Poetic Prose Master]

Ocaeril Final Action: A New Dawn

​

As all came and went, Ocaeril stood on the North Pole with a relaxed expression.

The god still had tiredness present on his face. And yet, all of this seemed to not bother him. Despite his muscles being torn, despite his veins seemed ready to pop, all inside of him was calm. His mind felt like a gentle rain. His memories were finally back together, in one piece. His heart calm, and his spirit seemed to be partying in joy. Of course, there was much confusion at first, when he discovered that Helsa of all people was part of his friend group long, long ago...And this Santa character certainly was a curious one. It was definitely what he expected 'Krassmass' to be, really.

Still...Memories and...Conflicting emotions aside, Ocaeril felt the first breath of the new year dawn upon him, as the sun slowly rose in the distance. Things were certainly going to change, now. Maybe for the best, maybe for the worst, but they were certainly looking interesting for him, and all the other gods.

The Hall was filled with presents and proper Christ-- Ahem, Krassmass decorations, filled with gifts from one god to another. Mostly Ocaeril, though. Inqui had received his presence and cuddles, and Helsa had received a single black flower. Other gods also received various other things that would certainly become eternal artifacts for them, but definitely not like Santa's gifts.

A low him escaped Ocaeril's lips, as in his fingertips, small, golden strings appeared on his fingertips.

In the far, far West, a certain elf and slime arrived on a island with their companions. Despite the hard fought battle, and the permanent scar on the vice-leader's face, they knew the future was bright. Many construction tools were with them, as well as long term materials...As they stood on this barren island, Tuldor would strike against the earth, as kilometers upon kilometers of trees were made, and in the center of this island, a large pine tree stood, nearly reaching the skies...

Construction began, as the guild would soon pass their years together with one another. Some might find love, some might not, as the construction of a new barrier for the future would soon be constructed over time. Of course, some weird things also happened, such as weird, brown squid-like people would rise from the oceans and settle in, and help with construction. Despite their appearence, they would be welcome in the land.

The village would grow and prosper, being hidden in the middle of forest, being almost impossible to find and raid due to its positioning. Trading would be made, as the village would grow more and more, and so would Chakra. The warriors coming from such place would be forever be remembered, and create a new term for these powerful Chakra users.

Ninjas.

The name of this village would be Konoha, The Village Hidden in the Leaf, and that would be the first place where Christmas, Krassmass, whatever you call it, be celebrated. Tuldor Otsutsuki, his wife, and his companions, being forever remembered as the first heroes of the leaf, and those who would start a new age for Ocaeril.

Poetic Prose Master

Soon, Assyrian would also receive these strings in his realm, as Ocaeril continued staring into the wild.

Helsa's gift, however, would have a note attached on it. A single, simple note.

KolastoRPN

Thank you for the genuine emotions, all those years ago. And sorry for being a brat. Merry Christmas.

~~Ocaeril

A sigh escaped his lips, as Ocaeril smiled.

"Okay. I'm done for this cycle. Good night, children."

With that, Ocaeril teleported to a certain smiled goddess, and confessed his true emotions.

BlackCat-055

Space Buddha

Assyrian Action 2:

Through the shadows that cloaked the village, a fearsome torch with eyes older then stars but body young prowled like a wolf. The man stalked through the streets with a purpose, seeking out the main training ground for Taijutsu. He stormed onto the field and sat down with a crack, a quake violent but quick shook the village down to the roots of the trees. He glowered at anyone who dared speak to him. And they left him alone, why they could not say, except that he seemed a shadow or a shade that was not really there for some reason.

A ninja was speaking about the gates, "The Gates are powerful, but they are dangerous. The flow of power they unleash will rip apart the body. It is your duty as Shinobi to know when to risk this surge."

The gathered Charka users gave a universal cry of "YES SENSEI!!!." Like they were animals trained to speak when told speak, systems of voices and breath that responded when told to.

The scowling man laughed. It was cruel, edged in scorn, a butcher's blade of humor that cut them down and filled them with shame, though they could not say why. The man spoke, "The body to one versed in its script is a temple. Do you flood a temple? No, a proper temple if built well can withstand the flow of the raging river. It has channels to divert this force into controlled regulation of energy. You all are children who open devil doors instead of tending to the altar of your Chi."

The Sensei rose up to defend the honor of his teachings, ready to shield his wisdom without looking to the reason that powered the attack. "We are Shinobi, a new breed of warrior. Chi is the tool of a empire that fell. We are the inheritors of a gift that has saved the world many times."

The red skinned man, with his form now revealed to them with his veins of burning red, and eyes of stellar gold, spoke. "Then strike me by opening these Gates. Show me the power of this Chakra. Test the mountain of Chi, if you can." A demonic grin and a growl full of spite erupted from him.

The challenged Ninja did not hesitate a moment. He focused his mind, the first gate ruptured, the second gate burst, the third, cracked. He panted for breath, the third split, the fourth was ripped apart, the fifth exploded. His blood was coursing through him now, charging through every muscle and vein. His entire body hurt, the strain of the pressure tunneling through him pressing from withing and without.

The scarlet man did not move. He simply let himself relax. The sky began to boil, seething bolts growling and snarling at each other as they drove the clouds into a frenzy. The ground beneath him began to crack. A terrible heat, something akin to the sun at its full fury radiated from him. A monstrous presence like a dark thunderhead broiled and grew around him. A shadow of might that stretched out like a tower. The man let them feel the weight of a divine temple, the altar fire of his Chi bloated out their senses.

They quivered and fell to the ground with their hearts shaking, beating like rabbits running from a giant wolf. They were unable to move, this mountain of power that uncoiled from the rude intruder crushed their wills. Even their sensi bowed down and felt himself overawed. The force of this man was a typhoon that smashed mountains, a firestorm that fell like thunder and obliterated oceans. A sea of primordial violence that cracked the sky when its waves roared.

"Now," said the man, "Behold a Temple of Might that has been perfected and crafted over thousands of years. A altar of Chi that throbs with a beat that could split this city in half. Or maybe I could do more? What limits are there for one who has made a fortress of their flesh able to contain the roaring life-fire able to surpass the dragon's breath?"

Silence smothered the Shinobi. They had been brought to a height that pierced the heavens, a spire with a drop so crushingly far down it made them wish to vomit.

"All," the man said, with a mocking poison dripping on his tongue,"Without use of devil gates that destroy the Temple. A foundation able to withstand and grow to staggering heights will far surpass ruptured doors that drown your life in the raging torrent of death.

Now, who shall be the first to hone their temple, ehm?"

 

[KolastoRPN]

Helsa Action #2 and #3

The Ghost of Christmas Past steps forth, and raises her hand. Almost like a montage, the happiest memories of each deity plays in their minds. Not just since the start of the cycles, but even Inqui’s memories of home, and especially their memories of each other. Everything is fresh, like they are experiencing it all again for the first time at once, and they can recall all the joy they found in one another. The stress of this evening on Inqui, Helsa’s confusion about her feelings towards the two, Ocaeril’s previous despair, all of it seems like a distant memory. But this, this feels real. The spirits again bow, and dissolve.

Helsa blinked in confusion as the memories flashed before her eyes. The memories of her feelings towards Ocaeril and Inqui. The true joy in those moments.

That...that ISN'T TRUE. I am the Goddess of Corruption, I don't have friends! I have tools that I USE!

I remember these things, but I deny their existence as 'happy memories'! They were nothing but moments of weakness! Yes, that was it. And my approaching Ocaeril and Inqui was just me using them as tools!

I DO NOT CARE ABOUT THEM!

With that final mental screech, Helsa would proceed to completely ignore that thought for the rest of the cycle.

Ocaeril Final Action: A New Dawn​

The Hall was filled with presents and proper Christ-- Ahem, Krassmass decorations, filled with gifts from one god to another. Mostly Ocaeril, though. Inqui had received his presence and cuddles, and Helsa had received a single black flower. Other gods also received various other things that would certainly become eternal artifacts for them, but definitely not like Santa's gifts.

Helsa's gift, however, would have a note attached on it. A single, simple note.

KolastoRPN

Thank you for the genuine emotions, all those years ago. And sorry for being a brat. Merry Christmas.

~~Ocaeril

Helsa would eventually discover the gift in the hall. She would snarl and drop the flower to the ground.

She would also completely deny to everyone that one of her tentacles grabbed said flower and note and placed it in her pocket.

Back in the present, however, Helsa would do two things. The first thing was a message to all her cultists. They were to research any and all information on powerful sources of energy. Chakra, The Winds of Magic, anything. They were to train in this energy in any way. Twist it so they could use it for her purposes, so she could wreak havoc on this world.

Then, she would spread her energy outward across the planet, feeling for the perfect subject for what she was about to do. She eventually found her target; a simple fox wandering through a forest. Using her powers, she flooded the fox with corruptive and dark magic, twisting it's form. It's tails multiplied, and it grew more humanoid, clothing appearing across it's body.

Once the magic was done, a new Kitsune stood there, filled with Helsa's magic and evil intent. Helsa spoke to the Kitsune, telling her of why she was created, why Helsa had brought her great power...

And the Kitsune responded by swearing at the Goddess of Corruption. A lot. And flipping her off before running into the mountains.

Helsa, after that, decided to isolate herself on her island for the rest of the cycle, planning and scheming.

 

[Selee-01]

BlackCat-055
Zeruel weathered the barrage, A.T. Field rippling and pulsing. The Angel leapt forth, and swallowed Tanya with a gulp.

Yimor'droth Action 1


______________________


On a distant island, two brothers stumbled across a deep and flooded pit. The glimmer of gold at the bottom convinced them to dive and fish it out...




The golden, spine-like thing, neither Plant nor Animal, fused with the younger brother. Afterwards, he acquired the Power of the Titans and with his brother conquered the island. Thirteen years later, he died and passed the Power of the Titans to his three sons and three daughters, establishing the Six Royal Families of Titania.


Eventually, the Power was divided into Ten.


The Hunter, a swift and enduring Titan.


The Vanguard, who could transform multiple times without exhaustion.


The Armor, capable of weathering high explosives but slow.


The Shaper, who could mold rock with a scream.


The Jaws, bearing teeth and talons capable of destroying the Armor.


The Warhammer, who could use the Harden ability to create crystal weapons like swords, whips and crossbows, and a hammer of course.


The Colossus, towering over 60 meters and capable of releasing heat from its body.


The Hurling, who could throw harder than a cannon.


The Gloves, 20 meters and nimble.


And the Coordinate, the King's Titan, with absolute power over the Mindless Titans it created and the people of Titania.


The Kings would convert criminals into Titans, and bury them beneath the shoreline. Upon an invasion, they would awaken them to devour their foes and then return them to their rest. No foreigner without authorization could set foot on the island.


No Shifter could live more than 13 years, and the power was passed on through transforming the successor into a Titan with the Coordinate and devouring the bearer to return to human shape.


The Kingdom of Titania worshipped Yimor'droth, and built magnificent temples to Their glory. With the Shaper, valuable ore was extracted for trade. The Kingdom preferred to remain on their island, trading and advancing. Occasionally, the Shaper would create more land and expand the Realm.

 

[Celestial Speck]

BlackCat-055
Zeruel weathered the barrage, A.T. Field rippling and pulsing. The Angel leapt forth, and swallowed Tanya with a gulp.

Yimor'droth Action 1


______________________


On a distant island, two brothers stumbled across a deep and flooded pit. The glimmer of gold at the bottom convinced them to dive and fish it out...




The golden, spine-like thing, neither Plant nor Animal, fused with the younger brother. Afterwards, he acquired the Power of the Titans and with his brother conquered the island. Thirteen years later, he died and passed the Power of the Titans to his three sons and three daughters, establishing the Six Royal Families of Titania.


Eventually, the Power was divided into Ten.


The Hunter, a swift and enduring Titan.


The Vanguard, who could transform multiple times without exhaustion.


The Armor, capable of weathering high explosives but slow.


The Shaper, who could mold rock with a scream.


The Jaws, bearing teeth and talons capable of destroying the Armor.


The Warhammer, who could use the Harden ability to create crystal weapons like swords, whips and crossbows, and a hammer of course.


The Colossus, towering over 60 meters and capable of releasing heat from its body.


The Hurling, who could throw harder than a cannon.


The Gloves, 20 meters and nimble.


And the Coordinate, the King's Titan, with absolute power over the Mindless Titans it created and the people of Titania.


The Kings would convert criminals into Titans, and bury them beneath the shoreline. Upon an invasion, they would awaken them to devour their foes and then return them to their rest. No foreigner without authorization could set foot on the island.


No Shifter could live more than 13 years, and the power was passed on through transforming the successor into a Titan with the Coordinate and devouring the bearer to return to human shape.


The Kingdom of Titania worshipped Yimor'droth, and built magnificent temples to Their glory. With the Shaper, valuable ore was extracted for trade. The Kingdom preferred to remain on their island, trading and advancing. Occasionally, the Shaper would create more land and expand the Realm.

Zeruel would not, in fact, suddenly eat Tanya. Mostly due to the fact she got thrown out of Camelot by Son Goku, and as such, the moment she would try and go towards her, the monkey had more then enough time to react to the attack, and with a single motion, his tails wacked Zeruel away from Tanya, before he jumped on top of her, and with high speeds, a barrage of punches infused with Chakra hit every point of her body.

Thankfully, her AT Field seemed to be holding out pretty well, but considering this was another Demi God, and one whose strength was enough to destroy mountains, it certainly wouldn't hold up for much longer.