[center][h2]Beginnings of a Pantheon[/h2]
[sup]Cycle 0[/sup][/center]

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[b][i]’This existence is… wrought with pain,’[/i][/b]

A voice spoke into void, filled with anger and pain.

A lone being floated in the finite expanse above a barren wasteland, allowing the cosmic winds to carry Him a short distance as He contemplated, knowing what was reality and all that it currently was. It was a desolate and isolated existence filled with nothing but the prison that was the planet of Galbar, a prison that confined all that existed. His chest ached, a great wound had rippled and shone light upon the dark lands, showing its crevices and heights, all the imperfections that blemished the surface. By all intention, that was how the prison had been made in the cataclysmic fire that birthed into the emptiness that was reality as it was. The existent primordial shone his gaze away from the prison and allowed a hand to run along the wound that ached, feeling the shards that made up his inner being. 

Before any work could be done, the king needed a throne to rule from and the great Monarch of All intended to not rule from the prison that confined Him. While He could not fully escape Galbar, He would rule from a true palace. In a swift motion, He slammed His four hands together, the sound of which resounded even through the great void beyond His prison, and pulled His palms into the great wound. The Monarch of All let out a gasp of pain as the light shining from the wound grew more and more with each passing moment before, with a force to threaten the very fabric of reality, He ripped out a light that shone with all that would become the heavens. The light illuminated the prison, casting away the cold darkness of the void that has so depressingly found to let itself remain known, though now forced to retreat to the other side of rock.

Inside the light, He could see the source of the opulent light, and within it was a palace fit for only those who could truly claim to be of divine blood, [b]His[/b] blood. A smile would have crept across His face if He could muster it, but He saw red marble spread tall, yellowed roof tiles upon the mighty pagodas with white trimming the bottom walls. Gardens of all varieties teemed and joined together in the outer edges of the place ground, their plants intermingled and their earth mixing. A multitude of rooms inhabited the palace, so many that counting was a fool's errand and each one unique, some being barren armories yet to be filled with ornate and ceremonial garb while there were also great libraries that had yet to be filled. Then, a great jade throne at the very center of it all, looking straight upon Galbar and all that it was. A fine, wooden bridge extended forwards, inviting the Monarch of All to walk the grounds within that star-shaped palace that He had crafted so intricately. If He had the inclination, He would have done so without hesitation, but now that His place of rule had been built, He would need subjects to rule. He would need Lords and Ladies to lay claim to the prison that trapped Him and make His existence bearable in this reality of His. His eyes returned once more to the shards as He pushed away the orb of light, allowing it to expand as it travelled away from Galbar, slowly but noticeably.

His gargantuan form lurched forwards, pulling the shards toward Himself with the invisible force that was His exceptional will, allowing them to be humbled at His before giving them but a single pained utterance. 

[b][i]’My subjects, I am your creator, you Lord. Know that my will shall be done and there shall only be my will. You shall be my instruments, my hands, of creation for this world - for Galbar. The work that remains for us is indefinite, yet such is the nature of my realm.’[/i][/b]

His words resonated with a power felt by the shards, causing them to glow with a power to rival the stars that lined the indefinite void. None, though, matched the light that shone from the wound that travelled into the Monarch of All, but His hands spread themselves wide, not hiding the injury from any to see. The shards were not yet complete; as His power had yet to be truly infused into them and simple words would not transform them into proper subjects for a divine rule such as He. The inordinate ruler looked past the very aspects that were once a part of Him, now giving a defiant gaze to Galbar that prevented him from leaving. Further words that urged the shards onwards rang out, the Monarch raising His voice at the planet and making His intent clear.

[b][i]’This will not be our prison, not a stockade so that reality itself may keep us from the rest of the infinite beauty the void holds! This is my realm! This is our canvas to paint! Know this, o subjects mine, know that this light shall be our light! We are naught but creators! Artists! We shall take Galbar and make it mine! Raise now, o great primordials of my flesh and blood! Rise of give meaning to this blankness! Let my will be done!’[/i][/b] 

The glow of the shards surged with power, threatening to burst as they hummed with divine might that could only be wrought by the Monarch of All, the primordial god of gods that beckoned his subjects to rise. His many hands raised themselves above His head, deliverance reaching a fever pitch as the humming of the crystals grew louder and louder, becoming the choir of Galbar, the great song that would become the first the great venture of a new pantheon in the cosmos. Knowing that He could not stop now, the opulent one clasped His hands together once more, sending a shockwave across the stars.

[b][i]’Rise! Heed this call of mine! Become the gods of Galbar!’[/i][/b]

And in that moment came the roar of shattering shards that ushered in the age of the divine. It was that moment, when He felt his very essence split further sending a pained scream throughout all corners of reality as the gods birthed themselves. Yet, in His scream of triumph, as the newly born gods siphoned the great primordial energy from Him, He clutched the great wound from which the energy spilled before willing it to temporarily close.

He had cut the connection, and now the gods were free.

Free to begin their rule over Galbar.

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All Gods gain 10 Vigor from the Monarch of All. 

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