The white space had no beginning and no end.
It simply was—an infinite expanse of nothing that somehow contained everything. No horizon. No shadow. No sound. Just the soft, ambient glow of white stillness.
Deus sat in the center of it all.
His chair was simple—unadorned, ivory, barely distinguishable from the space around it. His long white hair rested on his shoulders and his eyes were closed. His fingers were interlocked on his lap. His breathing, had he needed to breathe, would have been imperceptible. He was The World, entire and absolute, waiting.
The rift tore open without warning.
A vertical seam of darkness split the whiteness, its edges writhing with light that was not light. From within, a figure stepped through. She wore the night sky like clothing—stars scattered across her form, nebulae drifting where fabric should have been, the void between them deeper than any shadow.
Mors, Of The End.
She regarded him with eyes that held no emotion.
"Unusual," she said in a detatched voice.
"To find The Architect Of Worlds asleep and dreaming."
Deus opened his eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous, my dear Mors" he said. "Gods don't dream."
Mors inclined her head slightly. No acknowledgment. No agreement. Just the motion.
"Shall we begin?"
Deus raised one hand.
The gesture was casual, almost lazy. Yet the space responded instantly. A long table materialized from the nothing—polished white, seamless, stretching into the distance. Twenty-one chairs lined its length. Twenty-one seats for the twenty other deities aside Mors and Deus.
Then, they arrived.A shimmer of vectors—lines of force and direction—coalesced into a seated figure. The Magician. Space bent beside them.A comet-wreathed figure materialized, trailing stardust that evaporated before it touched the table. The Chariot.The Wheel of Fortune appeared next. Light gathered.An star blazed into existence, then softened into a seated figure. The Star.Radiance followed. Space expanded then there was a flash as energy was released, as if celestial body had been born before resolving into The Sun.
Space shattered like glass and a figure clad in majiestic robes stepped through. The High Priestess. A massive gold studed gate with massive weighing scales engraved on it appeared and opened with a deafening creaking sound, shining an impossible light from within as a figure walked though.The Justice.A whirlwind of energy bloomed, its spiraling flames casting shadows that moved despite no light source.The Hermit.The Moon materialized—crescent and shadow, silver and red, clouds drifting where no clouds should be.Lightning struck forming what looked like an obelisk that stood fractured but unbroken, light pouring from its cracks. The Tower.
Flowers manifested and bloomed, forming into a much larger one of enchanting beauty and from within it, The Empress. There was a war cry and a figure clad in armor appeared in a flash of light, riding what looked like a winged lion with a golden crown on thier head. The Emperor.Sliver and Gold threads appeared and coalesced into The Hanged Man. Another rift appeared, thistime like a black hole. Temperance. A crystaline sharne erupted from the ground then shattered revealing The Hierophant. The Lovers appeared next in a mystical palanquin.
A shadow appeared and looking up a large figure floated with arms folded. Strength. A chain covered demonic gate appeared and The Devil stepped through. Judgement apppeared from a flash of darkness.And at the far end, opposite Deus, The Fool materialized.
The White Space trembled.
Not violently—but noticeably. Twenty-two presences, each capable of unmaking existence, contained in a single place. The space itself groaned under the weight of what sat within it.
Mors walked to the center of the table and sat.
Deus surveyed them all. His expression remained unreadable, that absolute void at his core revealing nothing. Then he smiled politely.
"It seems," he said quietly, "we are all present."
Silence held for a moment. Then The Star leaned forward.
"Yes, and for the record you can't ask for more time now, Mr. World. We've given you seven years."
Deus looked at him.
"Yes," he acknowledged. "And I thank you for that. While I feared it wouldn't be enough, in these seven years my pawn has developed."
He paused, then added: "Though I wonder, Ms. Star—why the rush? Timing is a dimension. It has no meaning to existences such as ours."
The Star's radiance flickered with something like amusement.
"Perhaps. But there are powers at play. powers we cannot ignore"
"That Fox scattered the Fragments of the Oblivion Cube thinking it would hinder us. But," The High Priestess observed, her voice layered with secrets.
"I've located three already. They're... creatively hidden."
"Three?" The Tower showed interest.
"Impressive. I've only confirmed one."
The Emperor's crown glinted as he spoke.
"I have two in my possession already. Acquired them centuries ago. Just... waited."
The Empress inspected a rose as she spoke. "Typical. You always did love to brag."
"How am I braginging. Wait, are you still mad at me?"
"Yes."
" I told you it was a mistake-"
"Hey could you two lovers not fight while we discuss our preparations?" The Lovers said.
" Look who's talking." The Devil commented with a grin while the Empress glared at The Lovers.
" What was that?''
"Nothing."
"Speaking of preparation," Temperance began.
"This era grows more interesting by the day. The Arcane Eyes have appeared. Dawn and Dusk, both in the same city, born the same night."
Silence rippled through the gathering.
"So, who's Wards are they?" The Empress asked.
There was silence but each person present eyed the other with suspicion.
"Whoever their patron is holds significant advantage. Those eyes see what others cannot. They'll find fragments we'd miss." The Wheel of Fortune said.
''Yeah, go ahead and state the obvious." The Magician said.
"But she's not wrong," The Chariot agreed.
"The girl with lunar radiance—Dawn—she's already demonstrating unusual perception. We saw this when she peered at Mr. World's Ward. The other one, Dusk, hasn't opened her eyes fully yet after looking once at the Ward of Mr. Emperor. When she does..."
"When she does," The Sun interrupted cheerfully, "things get interesting. I love interesting."
Mors spoke for the first time.
"Speculation will get us nowhere. And with what is to take place, it's doubtful we will be meeting again like this till it's all over. We should share basic information. At minimum." Her voice carried no inflection.
"The world will shift regardless of how the game is played. We may as well understand the board."
The Moon's sigil flickered. "Speaking of shifts—who orchestrated the Blackhaven attack?"
Several presences stiffened.
" We agreed to not do anything for seven years, per Mr. World's request. That event was... not authorized. Whoever is responsible must be sanctioned." The Justice said.
"I agree," The Tower agreed, their form crackling. "That was unilateral. We all lost wards in that conflict. Well, minus Mr. World and Mr. Fool."
"Wards are replaceable," The Devil murmured.
"Replaceable doesn't mean useless," The Justice interjected.
"Those lives could have been useful pieces that could change the game. Now they're simply... gone."
The Emperor's crown glinted. "I lost three promising candidates. One was showing exceptional potential for Acceleration."
The Empress's rexpression darkened. " Again with making everything about you."
"Ms. Death, despite what you said you seem unconcerned." The Hermit observed.
Mors regarded her with empty eyes.
"Regradless of the means, the end will come."
The Hermit leaned back in her seat.
"Yep, shouldn't have asked."
The Lovers turned to Deus. "De—Mr. World, will you be alright in this game though. You have only ward?"
Before Deus could respond, they looked to the far end of the table. "And you, Mr. Fool? One ward as well? If you want, I can lend you some of my pawns in exchange for-"
"Don't worry, Ms. Lovers," Deus said with a reasuring smile.
"That one is more than enough."
"Simply anticipate." The Fool added confidently.
The Lovers wasn't convinced.
"If you say so."
Her expression turned thoughtful.
"Still. Roric Thorne's death was wasteful. He could have been extraordinarily useful."
The Emperor leaned forward. "His daughter is my ward, actually. And considering how... close she is with Mr. World's pawn..."
He let the implication hang. Deus ignored him.
"Perhaps she should transfer to my Trait. Bonds would suit her." The Lovers thought out loud.
The Emperor's aura flared.
"You will not touch my ward."
"Oh, you dare release your aura agaisnt me? Or what, Mr. Emperor?" The Lovers said, her temper also flaring and her own energy expanding. Both presences clashed. The white space groaned as two dominions pressed against each other, thier authorities locked in a silent but palpable battle. The table trembled. The chairs creaked as around them, the other deities leaned back, watching with varying degrees of interest.
Deus tapped his finger on the table.
The sound was small. Insignificant. Yet it echoed through the white space like a thunderclap, shattering the tension instantly.
Both auras snapped back to their owners.
"Please," Deus said, his tone pleasant, almost warm.
"Stop."
The Emperor's crown blazed. "Is that a threat, Mr. World?"
"Because if you think you have the upper hand because we are in your Space I can expand my own domain and we can settle this now if you'd prefer."
Deus raised both hands, palms open. Calm. Reassuring.
"Nothing of the sort. I simply prefer conversation."
"He's right. A confrontation between any of us would destroy the layers of existence we've worked to maintain. That's why we agreed to work towards our common goal through using mortals as pawns in the first place." The Justice agreed
Her gaze shifted between The Emperor and The Lovers.
"Behave."
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then, slowly, they sat.
Silence held.
The Hanged Man to break the silence.
"There's only one piece of common knowledge worth sharing anyway."
All attention turned to him.
"The two girls born with Arcane Eyes," The Hanged Man continued. "Dawn and Dusk. They're my wards."
The statement landed like a stone in still water.
Several deities shifted. The High Priestess's expression flickered with what might have been surprise—or irritation. The Tower's polka face cracked. The Devil's grin widened.
"Both of them?" The Star asked.
"Both of them."
"That's..." The Magician trailed off. "That's quite the anomaly. Congrats I guess."
"That gives you considerable advantage." The Wheel Of Fortune said.
"Yes," The Hanged Man agreed. "I plan to use them thoroughly. They'll be my key assets moving forward. The game requires advantages, Ms. Fortune. You have yours. I have mine."
"For now." The Devil said cryptically.
Deus raised a hand again, drawing attention.
"The seven year period is complete, Key information has been given, is there anything anyone would like to say to everyone?"
Silence.
"Right," He continued.
"From this moment forward, we seek the fragments."
He looked around the table, meeting each persons eyes in turn.
"May the best one win."
One by one, the deities began to fade—their forms dissolving back into whatever realms they inhabited. The table emptied in a flash of blinding light and the white space returned to its infinite, empty stillness.
Soon only Deus remained.
He sat alone, staring at nothing.
Mors got up as her seat dissolved and walked to stand beside him, facing away.
Deus regarded her without surprise. "The Hermit was right though.You didn't seem enthusiastic about our cosmic game of chess."
She stood beside the table, looking out at the nothing.
"I don't care about it."
"Then why attend?"
A pause. "Absolute power. Oblivion. Corruption. None of it interests me. I only wish to observe the end."
"You've been acting strange," Deus observed quietly.
"Ever since... that time."
Mors's expression shifted. Just slightly. A wistfulness that didn't belong on the face of Death.
"That time," she repeated softly, a faint smile playing on her lips.
The words hung between them.
Deus said nothing.
A rift opened and she moved towards it, pausing at the threshold.. "Sweet dreams," She murmured before stepping through. The rift closed.
Silence.
Deus sat alone in the white space, his fingers interlocked.
"I told you," he said softly.
"Gods don't dream."