"You should never have defied Zeus. Now, behold the cost of your arrogance..." the Glowing God intoned, his voice echoing with radiant judgment.
"Zeus sends you a final message. He offers clemency—a second chance to correct your folly. But only if you bend the knee, and accept your place as his subordinate god. What is your answer?"
"…"
Deus said nothing. Whether the silence was from contempt, contemplation, or disregard, the emissary could not tell—but he knew he was being mocked. Ridicule hung in the air like smoke.
"You—!" the God began, indignation flaring.
But Deus's voice cut through like a blade of silence.
"You made your mistake the moment you set foot here." His tone was cold, regal, ageless.
"This world, this galaxy as a whole is my dominion. My strength is tethered to its soul. And you thought to confront me here? Foolish. Did Zeus's shadow embolden you? Did you think that being the subordinate of Zeus makes you safe. Did you think he would dare enter my realm to save you? If so, then you are twice the fool."
With no further use for this messenger, Deus made his intent known. The air trembled.
His eyes ignited with spectral light, an ethereal brilliance that pierced the veil between realms. Soul energy—primordial and boundless—rushed toward him, drawn by instinct, as if the very fabric of existence remembered its true master. The skies trembled, and the winds carried whispers of awe and dread.
Deus's anger simmered, ignited by the sheer audacity of this upstart—this nameless, newly ascended god who dared to tread upon Earth as though it were neutral ground.
Unlike most deities, Deus was not made a god through worship, evolution, or cultivation. He was born a god—birthed by the universe itself, sculpted from cosmic balance to govern and bring order to the divine pantheon as it began to spiral out of control. But the world had moved too quickly.
The power of gods had surged beyond the universe's designs. Even at his inception, Deus was outpaced, shunned, and hunted. Yet his soul was unlike any other—his affinity the all powerful Soul Affinity.
It was the path to dominion. All life bore souls. Even what was deemed inanimate could be possessed by a soul or could evolve and awaken a soul. Therein lay his supremacy: the power to control all souls that existed, or ever would.
Through eras of betrayal, war, and schemes spun by gods and titans alike, Deus persevered. He unraveled their plots, overcame them all, and carved a throne from their ambitions. Zeus—ancient even before time had a name—had already ascended beyond the limits of most gods, grasping soul laws even before the universe formally birthed the concept, long before Deus was birth to by the universe.
Still, Deus rose. Until at last, only Zeus remained as a rival. Even then, Deus moved with caution, not from fear—but from wisdom.
Zeus, in his cunning, forged a method. He siphoned divine Qi from countless gods and used it to annihilate Deus's body. But the soul of the God of Souls cannot be extinguished. His essence endured.
So now, for this lowly, insignificant godling to act boldly before him—Deus—the sovereign of souls, was not merely an offense. It was an insult of cosmic proportions.
"When I was shaping the laws of this universe with my will," Deus said, his voice deep and ancient like the murmur of eternity itself, "your ancestors were mortal infants—mewling for milk at the edge of creation."
His gaze turned razor-sharp, his tone dripping with cold disdain. "A goat with horns dares to challenge an elephant because it has never seen the stampede of true might. You mistake mercy for weakness, and age for irrelevance. I shall remind you why I am feared in silence… and why your name will fade before it is ever remembered."
The Glowing God's composure faltered. The weight of his choice, the magnitude of his blunder, now came crashing down.
"Zeus awaits an answer, does he?" Deus's voice dropped to a cold whisper laced with divine wrath. "Then let my reply be your death."
His presence expanded, growing heavy, suffocating. The messenger's divine glow dimmed beneath the gravity of a force older than time.
"Let him be reminded," Deus said, each word ringing with solemn finality, "that my hatred for him has not dulled over the aeons. Nay—it burns brighter than ever before, fanned by betrayal and blood. And you, envoy of his pride, shall be the first ember of my vengeance."
He raised his hand, the divine mark of soul command glowing on his palm.
"For one who claims dominion over mortals, your soul is... pitifully weak." He let the words hang. "Perhaps that was Zeus's intention all along. To send a lamb to the slaughter—to test if the lion still bears fangs."
The God's face turned ashen. He had thought himself chosen for valor. But now it was clear—he had been chosen for disposal.
"And I see," Deus continued with grim amusement, "that your ascension to godhood is still wet with afterbirth. Then I shall grant you the education your patron god denied."
His voice, low and full of threat, echoed like a dirge.
"I will show you why my name is unspoken in fear... Why not even the boldest of gods dare set foot within my domain... I will show you why I am Deus Anima—the God of Souls!"
Terror consumed the other god. He could no longer breathe. His divine heart throbbed erratically. The glow in Deus's eyes intensified—and with it, invisible chains coiled around the soul of the trembling god.
They constricted. Squeezed. Crushed.
"Soul Severance!"
The words rang like a divine decree.
The god screamed—but only blood erupted from his lips. He reached forward, desperation bleeding from his eyes.
"Please... spare—"
KACHA!
The sound of something ancient and vital shattering echoed from within him.
He collapsed.
'How...?!' he thought, drowning in disbelief. Even in Deus's weakened vessel—a mortal infant's form—he was powerless, bound in spiritual shackles, unable to resist, unable to breathe. His soul, once a beacon of divine life, was being pulped into oblivion.
'No wonder... No wonder the heavens once trembled at his name. Even Zeus fears him… Even now, even in this form…'