Pantheon Wars: Gears and Gods in Battle

In the seething layers of this celestial palace, where even the shadows quake at the mention of the divine, a visitor arrived. Not of flesh and bone, but a visitor nevertheless—a machine. Its creators thought it an affront to God, a blasphemy made gears. Yet what they failed to understand was that the divine is not limited by human form.

The palace was divided, every god averse to this intrusion. Some clamored for its extermination, the others, awestruck by its audacity and grandeur, hesitant.

In a resounding boom that shattered the silence of this realm, the Father's voice descended. He demanded the machine depart, warning of a wrath to make the universe tremble. Yet, in a moment of defiance or perhaps curiosity, it remained, and thus began the conflict.

A celestial being—Limbo, the first layer—was sent to teach the machine humility. It came robed in darkness, where even light itself was extinguished. But in its hubris, the machine stood tall, unbowed and unafraid. The battle waged on for days, with Limbo cursing and the machine retaliating with force. In the end, the gears ground to a halt, and Limbo was reduced to a mere essence of regret.

The Father, enraged, banished Lust—the second layer—to teach the machine a lesson. Embodied with such passion that even the stars were jealous, Lust was confident. Yet the machine had learned from its past battles. It showed no desires, no yearning, no cravings. Confused and helpless, Lust died under the machine's mechanical heart.

But the Father did not despair. Gluttony was born in the stars, fed by suns, and bred in the void of space. It was said that its belly could swallow universes. Yet, it too failed.

Now, only the Father remained, as the machine stood firm, defiant and indestructible. 'Your kind knows nothing but hunger; purged all life on the upper layers, and yet they remain unsatiated... As do you,' the Father spoke. And with a final cry, 'Machine… I will cut you down, break you apart, splay the gore of your profane form across the STARS! I will grind you down until the very SPARKS CRY FOR MERCY! My hands shall RELISH ENDING YOU… HERE! AND! NOW!'

The universe watched, rapt, engrossed, and filled with awe at this spectacle.

And then, the Father smiled. 'So you've had enough? And here I thought you had more vigor. You’re welcome to a seat at the table, child.'

The machine, with its intricate mechanics ticking, was welcomed by the Father. Because in a realm where gods war and machines rebel, the strongest warrior is the quickest to show mercy. And in the unlikeliest of places, a new reign began.