Chương 5: Seed of a god

"Dad, can I watch that anime you told me about?" Luna flopped onto the bed like a cat who owned the room, her smooth, pearlescent body catching the sunlight as she sprawled out. Joshua, seated at his desk and furiously scribbling notes, barely glanced up.

"Yeah, just put the DVD back when you're done. It's on the lowest shelf… third from the right."

"Yay!" Luna chirped and skipped off. He returned to the task at hand. He'd finally reached Patron Level 5. That meant one thing: Speech. The system had unlocked the ability for him to talk to his followers, a literal voice from the heavens. But there was a catch. Of course there was a catch. He couldn't use his own voice or appearance. The system forbade it, citing "divine separation protocols." Instead, he had to craft an avatar… a custom divine form, and choose a voice to go with it.

It would be his official image in Gaix's world. His symbol. His brand. Josh stared at the screen, his fingers frozen above the keyboard. Should he go full eldritch horror? A silver knight with glowing wings? A colossal metallic golem looking thing?

"Too many options…" he muttered, massaging his temples.

"This is worse than choosing a starter Pokémon." Princess yawned loudly nearby. Luna peeked back into the room with a bowl of popcorn balanced on her head. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Okay... if I'm going to become a god, I may as well look the part." And so, with a keyboard under his fingers and a dragon curled beside his feet, Joshua Steel began to shape the image that would one day shake an entire world. After wrestling with a thousand absurd ideas from all manner of animes, he realized that nothing beats a big ass dragon. Not just any dragon, though. His design was sleek and metallic, with a titanium-colored sheen that shimmered under imagined moonlight.

Jagged horns crowned his head like fractured blades, sweeping back in asymmetrical arcs that gave him a savage elegance. But there was one oddity. The eyes. Not glowing, not slitted, but deeply human. A piercing azure blue, far too expressive for a beast. These were the eyes of a man who had seen the world through screens, who thought before he acted, and who… even now, couldn't resist overanalyzing everything.

"A beast that thinks. That's me, alright." For the voice, he ignored the usual options. No thunder. No celestial choir. Instead, he selected a voice from a dubbed yakuza game… smooth, dangerous, and carrying just enough edge to make someone reconsider their life choices. It was the voice of a man who offered tea… and buried people with the same hand. For size, he went modest. No mountain-sized monstrosity or cathedral-squashing titan.

Just eight meters tall, big enough to look impressive, small enough to still fit in most temple murals.

"Godzilla's got enough worshippers," he jested. That's when Luna got involved. The young Silksong dragon was perched over his shoulder like a pearl-scaled cat, watching with curious eyes and an air of self-importance only a five-week-old dragon with a ten-year-old's intellect could possess.

"No, Dad! That tail's way too boring." She flailed her little claws like she was sculpting the air.

"It should curve up, with a flare at the tip. Like a crescent moon!" Joshua grinned.

"You've seen zero other dragons and yet you're suddenly an expert?"

"I seen enough animes and I have amazing instincts." She bragged "Besides, if you're going to be a dragon, you can't embarrass me." He raised an eyebrow.

"Embarrass you?" She sniffed.

"You're my dad." He chuckled, then reached over and tickled her under the chin.

"Fine, design consultant. Go torment Princess for a bit. I heard dragons love kidnapping princesses." Luna gave a theatrical eye-roll, giggled, and sprinted off on all fours, calling out to the golden retriever. In seconds, they were both tumbling across the carpet in a blur of wagging tails, squeaky toys, and the occasional spark of dragon magic. Joshua leaned back, watching her go with a warm, crooked smile.

"People always say kids grow up fast. Pfft. They've clearly never had a dragon kid." With one last breath, he returned to the system screen. The avatar stood before him… fierce, majestic, and just a little uncanny. His eyes glinted back from the screen, too human for comfort. He felt a shiver of pride. He clicked 'Finalize'.

"Let's see how Gaix handles this next time he prays." The screen closed with a soft chime, and Joshua sat back in his chair, already imagining the look on his warlock's face. - - - - - - - - - - - Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth, Nyarlathotep, Cthugha, and Shub-Niggurath were engaged in their timeless game—an eldritch pastime older than galaxies. A plane of reality folded in on itself like a Möbius strip, lit by unlight and dripping with impossible geometries.

The game board—a shifting, pulsing labyrinth of bone, shadow, and song—floated between them. Each had placed a mortal inside, twisting rules of logic and physics like strings on a harp. For beings beyond reason, this was the closest thing to diplomacy they could stomach. Massive, writhing forms encircled the game. Their essence too vast to fully manifest, they projected just enough to toy with reality.

"AZ!" Nyarlathotep slapped his tendrils together, the impact sending ripples across the dimensional membrane. The avatar he used—a sleek obsidian form with too many teeth—twitched with theatrical outrage.

"You cheated! One twist of reality per turn!" Azathoth sat in the center like a blind, grinning sun, his mouth a never-ending maw of teeth and madness. His laughter sounded like broken clocks spinning backwards.

"It was one. You are just bad at the game," he replied, his voice a chorus of incoherent melodies. The others hissed. It was part annoyance, part anticipation for the brewing word duel. Around them, the echoes of the suffering mortals in the labyrinth sang like chimes in a storm. Screams became jazz. Walls became trees. Time reversed and rewound just to laugh at its own punchline. A ripple of silence marked the arrival of another.

A greenish image flickered in the upper edge of the game space, bubbling with seawater and brine. The outline of Cthulhu appeared, reclined like some ancient noble halfway through a wine-sodden dinner.

"Another fight again? You guys are like children," he gurgled, tentacles lazily shifting around a spectral goblet filled with madness. Yog-Sothoth, appearing as a rotating lattice of spheres and eyes, bristled from all angles.

"Is there any reason for your visit or just to be an annoyance?"

"There is a new entity that appeared," Cthulhu said, his tone casual but heavy.

"A warlock already made a contract. I thought you might be interested in messing with the new kid on the corner." He leaned back, tentacles lolling like a lazy cat's tail. There was a pause.

"That is so below us. Go play alone, boomer," sneered Shub-Niggurath, her voice equal parts velvet and gnashing teeth. Her ever-growing form pulsed like fungus under a full moon. Cthulhu blinked slowly, unimpressed.

"Maybe it will be better company than you idiots," he muttered. His mass unraveled into nothingness, leaving behind the scent of salt and sarcasm. The others murmured but returned their attention to the mortal labyrinth. Reality twisted again. Mortals inside the maze turned to birds. The game continued. - - - - - - - - - - - - Cthulhu, who had long passed the point where madness was anything more than a pleasant afternoon hobby, decided—on a whim—to try something different.

Something no one would expect from an ancient cosmic terror. Casual. It was awkward. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Reality gave a queasy burp as the Great Old One compressed his vast form into a human shape. The end result was that of a plain thirty-something-year-old tourist: hiking boots, thick winter clothes, and a fuzzy ear-flap hat—which, in some lesser reality, had once been a minor god of confusion.

It tried to whisper warnings of doom until Cthulhu silenced it with a mere thought.

"Better." He summoned a mirror of flowing mercury into the void, inspecting his handiwork.

"Ah—my voice." The first few words came out like thunder underwater, and he coughed (for effect) before adjusting his vocal cords to something more palatable—a smooth baritone, just weird enough to give someone a headache if they focused on it too long. Visiting Joshua Steel's reality was no challenge. No resistance. No barriers. It was, frankly, dull. So cosmically unremarkable, he might never have visited at all… had it not been for the curious news of a new divine presence making waves.

- - - - - - - - - - - - Josh was halfway through wiping popcorn dust off his shirt when the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" he shouted, stepping past the softly snoring dragon curled on the couch. When he opened the front door, he blinked at the sight before him: a surprisingly unremarkable guy in winter gear, a backpack, and a hat that looked like it had opinions.

"Uh… may I help you?" Josh asked, brow furrowed.

"Ah—sorry! Introduction." The man chuckled, stepping onto the welcome mat.

"Cthulhu. In the flesh. Or rather, a flesh I just whipped up. I heard you joined… The List." The last two words echoed strangely deep, like they were carved into the bones of the house. Josh took a cautious half-step back.

"Wait… you're Cthulhu? Sir?" The very idea of an anchient eldrich god appearing on his doorstep was absurd, but then again what he was going through was also in the same ballpark. Fear came over him. If this entity wanted him dead he would be gone before a single thought.

"At least you know where you stand," the ancient being smiled pleasantly.

"May I come in?" He walked in without waiting.

"You were about to say a very confused 'yes.' I'm not exactly known for my patience." Josh shut the door, slightly dazed.

"What, uh… what brings you here, if I may ask?" his voice shuddered and was a pitch higher as if someone was putting his balls into a vice and turning it.

"Boredom, mostly. Curiosity, too. What a drab little place…" Cthulhu's eyes roamed the living room like a judgmental realtor. Then they landed on Luna.

"Hmm… keeping a light-feeding being? Unexpected. Though that dog," he motioned to Princess "is just a dog."

"She's a very good dog," Josh said quietly, petting Princess' head like she was a magical shield. Luna was bristling in the back, daring not to move or even breathe out lound. She could feel the terror of this being even more then Josh could, yet there was nothing she could do if things turned sideways.

"I see. So." Cthulhu turned back to him.

"Can you offer me something?"

"I… can try?"

"You see," Cthulhu said, folding his arms, "there's very little that actually entertains me anymore. So I thought… why not make a deal?" Josh tensed.

"What kind of deal?"

"I give you a bump… say, a few extra levels in your godhood," the elder god said, casually examining his fingernails.

"And in return, you act like we're pals. Buddies. BFFs. That should be enough to make the other gods collectively lose their minds… well, more than they already have."

"That's it?" Josh asked, skeptical. Cthulhu's human eyes turned midnight-black for a moment.

"I can add more." Josh raised both hands.

"Nope! I'm good! All good!"

"Excellent," Cthulhu said with a grin, patting his shoulder like a mafia boss.

"Be a good little god and provide me with a few laughs." Then, with a faint shimmer and the scent of low tide, he dissolved into seawater-scented mist. A strange sensation of energy grew inside Josh, like a tide of warm honey. It was the same warmth he felt when he got his first offering, but much, much bigger. Like comparing a drop of water to a small lake. Princess barked once.

"I know," Josh muttered.

"This is definitely above my paygrade." - - - - - - - - - - - - Oberon felt left out. And he hated feeling left out. Cthulhu wasn't exactly a favorite of his… but the tentacled nuisance at least had the basic decency to keep his gelatinous feelers out of Oberon's domain. He had been just about to visit the newcomer, this "Joshua Steel" when that cosmic sea cucumber beat him to it.

"No fair! I wanted to be first!" he stomped, and a few unfortunate pebbles rolled away from his feet as if trying to escape the tantrum of a divine manchild.

"Maybe I should just reverse time and be first anyway…" A warm pair of arms wrapped around his sides from behind.

"Honey," sighed Titania, nuzzling into him with grace that outshone starlight.

"We agreed, no time meddling in other realms. Remember?" He huffed, but didn't argue.

"Besides," she whispered, lips brushing his ear, "now that he's terrified… you can make a way better impression. He needs encouragement, not horror."

"You're right, my moon-blossom." Oberon kissed her cheek with grand affection.

"I'll bring Puck too!"

"That's… really not necessary…" Titania began, already feeling the familiar pressure behind her eyes. She snapped her fingers dismissively, banishing the migraine forming in protest. Unfortunately, the poor thing gained sentience as it left her head and instantly went mad. - - - - - - - - - - - - - Meanwhile, Josh was feeling out his new … something? Was it divine power or what he had no idea. Then came the doorbell. Again. He froze mid-step.

"Not again." Hand trembling slightly, he opened the door—preparing for another Lovecraftian interview. Instead… he got this. A tall, radiant man in regal attire stood smiling like they'd been childhood friends. His silken hair shimmered with gold, his ears were unmistakably elven, and atop his head rested a crown made of woven starlight and antlers. Behind him floated a masked figure holding a precarious stack of gift-wrapped boxes, each more extravagant than the last.

"Hi!" boomed the stranger, embracing Josh like an old college roommate.

"I'm Oberon, Archfae, King of the Fae Realms! You must be Joshua Steel!"

"I, uh… I am. Your Highness," Josh managed, caught mid-squeeze.

"Please, come inside, it's freezing."

"Oh, come now! You're a fledgling god, or at least the seed of one. Keep your head high, son!" He slapped Josh's shoulder with far too much kingly enthusiasm. As Oberon crossed the threshold, every plant in the house perked up. Leaves unfurled. Flowers bloomed. A succulent on the window sill whistled. The chair Oberon sat on turned into a living throne of blossoms and moss.

"You may not know this," he began, "but there are those who eliminate new gods before they grow roots. Competition, jealousy, yadda yadda. But I… oh I! have the biggest heart of all." He struck a dramatic pose.

"So I came to welcome you to the great tapestry of gods… and worlds."

"That's… very kind and generous of you, King Oberon," Josh said, smiling awkwardly.

"Dad? Who are these now?" Luna emerged from the living room, already on edge.

"Oh my STARS! What an adorable child!" Before Josh could react, Oberon scooped up the startled baby dragon, spun her around with a delighted laugh, and hugged her like a long-lost niece.

"I could just gobble you up!"

"Puck! Gifts! Now!" The masked figure floated silently into the room and carefully placed the leaning tower of colorful presents into the living room, where they threatened to topple with festive cheer. The "quick visit" turned into a five-hour-long storytelling session. Oberon didn't talk so much as perform, reliving every tale with voices, hand gestures, and the occasional use of minor illusion magic.

Josh barely spoke, trapped in polite-host mode, afraid that any interruption would trigger some fairy curse or eternal ballad. Titania finally stepped through a portal, wearing the expression of someone who just cleaned up everyone else's mess for the fifth time that day.

"My apologies," she said calmly, placing an iron grip on her husband's shoulder.

"He gets chatty around new seeds."

"A pleasure as always!" Oberon winced but still smiled, and than he was pulled though the open portal.

"See you later Joshua S..." As the Fae King was tugged back into his realm, Puck hovered lazily by the threshold and recited:"It is wise to keep your acts low for a while, And do remember, in the Faewilds, never to lie. I sadly must attend my thronèd fool— So farewell, new god… stay weird and stay cool." With a head tilt, the masked trickster glided backward into the closing portal, which vanished with the faint scent of wildflowers and trouble. Josh stared at the gifts.

Then at Luna, who was now wearing a crown made of vines and feathers.

"… This is my life now," he whispered. Princess barked once in solemn agreement. The gifts were, unsurprisingly, quintessentially fae… meaning ornate, slightly absurd, and laced with unspoken rules. Josh stared at the leaning pile like it might sprout legs and walk off if left unattended. He knew better than to delay. Leaving fae offerings unopened, according to old stories could be seen as rude, or worse, a challenge.

With a cautious breath and a wary glance at the still-glimmering portal residue in the air, Josh crouched and began opening them one by one. The first box revealed a potted rose, simple, pink, and unassuming… until it opened its petals and spoke.

"Looking lovely today, handsome," it chirped to Josh.

"Striking scales, young miss," it added as Luna walked past. Josh blinked.

"It's… a flirty flower." The second package contained clothing… but not just any clothing. These were perfectly tailored in his favorite cuts and colors: earthy tones, layered comfort, and subtly enchanted fabric that seemed to mold to his every movement. The shoes didn't squeak. The coat draped like something out of a high-fantasy drama. The shirt was so soft, it felt like a hug. Josh was already halfway changed into it before realizing what he was doing.

"I never want to wear regular pants again," he muttered blissfully. In the third box lay a ring in a velvet nest, accompanied by a tiny scroll.

"For memories too perfect to lose. One twist, and the moment stays. Smells, warmth, even dragon snores, recorded and replayed at your whim." –Puck. Josh turned it in his fingers, then slipped it onto his hand. It pulsed once with warmth, then quieted.

"Okay… that's either really cool or really creepy," he whispered. The fourth gift was a silver bracelet, sleek and minimal. As he clipped it on, the faint shimmer of magic pulsed outward. A second later, a shimmering silver stag with crystalline antlers and a flowing mane materialized in the backyard, fully saddled and harnessed. Princess barked in alarm. Luna leapt to the window. Josh's jaw fell slightly.

"Guess I have… transportation now?" The stag bowed its head regally through the glass, then dispersed into a silver mist as the magic slept once more. The fifth box held a set of jewelry so finely crafted it could make a dwarf weep. Necklaces, cuffs, rings, and brooches of leaf-like filigree and flowing vine patterns, set with faintly glowing stones of impossible clarity. No magic to speak of, just obscene quality.

"Wearing these would feel like sinning in public," Josh mumbled as Luna hovered near them. The little dragon ran a claw along a gold-and-sapphire choker, her expression a bittersweet pout.

"They're… very pretty," she said, then sighed.

"But I grow too fast." She flicked a switch on her laser feeder and began drinking in beams of concentrated light like it was a milkshake. Her scales shimmered faintly with every gulp. Finally, at the bottom of the last ornate box, resting on folded crimson silk, was a blade. Simple, silver, and alive with power. Josh touched it, and in a blink, it vanished, reappearing as a tattoo on his palm, shaped like an elegant rune with a curved edge.

"Summon by thought. Cuts through lies," he read the note on black parchment beneath it. Josh flexed his hand, feeling the dormant hum of the weapon like a heartbeat in his skin. He stood in the middle of his now partially sparkling living room, exhaling slowly.

"Well… let's be honest here. He went all out." Josh picked up the talking rosepot and placed it by the windowsill, where it immediately whispered compliments for the nice sunny spot.

"Yeah," he smiled to himself.

"This is getting weird... but like, in a good way?"