In the center of the divine garden, six billion Gods stood in awe, their gazes sweeping over the beautiful city that was now their ho.
"As you all can see," Sunny’s voice bood, a sound of proud, and welcoming authority, "the Builder Union has done a magnificent job. This city has everything you could have ever dread of, and perhaps even so things you haven’t."
"Boss!" a voice, sharp and itching with a familiar, restless energy, cut through the silence. It was Zir.
"Is there a fighting arena here?" His hands were clenched into fists, his aura crackling.
The recent battle, where he had been forced to stand by, a helpless spectator while his Emperor was torn apart thousands of tis, had lit a fire in his soul. He was furious and wanted to vent this anger sowhere.
"An arena where Gods can fight," he clarified, his voice a low growl. ’I should have been the one to die’ he thought, the thought a repetitive mantra in his mind. ’Not him. I will never be that weak again.’
This burning, almost fanatical loyalty was a sentint shared by many in the Pantheon.
Perhaps it was Sunny’s own charisma, his constant, unbelievable acts of generosity and sacrifice.
Or perhaps, as Sunny himself knew, it was the wonderful work of his Divine Blessing talent, a power that, with every gift, gently wove the threads of loyalty into the very souls of its recipients.
Sunny looked deep into Zir’s eyes, and through his God’s Eye, he saw the blazing fire there. He smiled behind his mask. This was the passion he needed.
"Of course there is," he said, and then gestured to Builder. "Please, God Builder. Explain the features of our new Colosseum."
"Ahem. The arena, which we have nad the ’Colosseum of Everlasting Fire’ is located in the heart of the Eastern District. It is forged entirely from an SSS-Grade material known as Phoenix Steel. This tal, harvested from the Realm of Advancent, is not just indestructible. It is regenerative. Even if a battle between two Gods manages to shatter it, the steel will restore itself to its original shape within monts. You can fight, as our Emperor would say, without a single care in the world."
A murmur of approval went through the assembled Gods.
"And what about the size?" another God called out. "Can we all have a grand royal rumble inside? A true battle of Gods!"
Builder’s form seed to shimr with pride. "That is the true beauty of this city. At its very core, we have installed another SSS-Grade artifact: the Space Stabilizer. With this, we can stretch the fabric of space within any building. We can make the Colosseum as small as a dueling pit or as vast as a thousand worlds. Yes, a royal rumble of six billion Gods is... entirely possible."
As the Gods processed this, Sunny raised his hand. "The Builder Union and the treasures of the Realm have provided the body," he declared. "But a stage of this grandeur deserves a soul."
Endless, shimring particles of starlight began to rain down from the sky, a beautiful show that was visible only to the Gods.
This was a divine buff, a piece of intricate magic Sunny had copied from the original Arena of Epiphany itself.
The starlight flowed into the Eastern District, sinking into the Phoenix Steel of the Colosseum. The arena began to shimr, to radiate a new aura.
"This is a blessing on the Colosseum," Sunny explained. "A buff for all who fight, and all who watch. When you are in this arena, your minds will be clearer, your comprehension sharpened. You will gain insights in the heat of battle. You will find it easier to break through your bottlenecks, to learn new concepts, to have... an epiphany."
The effect was instantaneous. The respectful awe of the Gods ignited into a full blown, blood pumping frenzy. Their blood began to boil.
They looked at their old rivals, their new friends, their eyes gleaming with a competitive fire. They wanted to fight. They wanted to grow.
"Calm yourselves," Sunny chuckled. "You will have all the ti in the world for that in the future." He scanned the crowd, his gaze settling, a more... complicated... part of his city’s governance now needing to be addressed. "Are there any other questions?"
A new voice, hesitant, slightly shaky, and deeply awkward, rose from the crowd. "Um... Boss? Emperor? Your Majesty?"
Sunny turned. "Yes? What is it?"
"Is there... ah... is there a brothel here?"
A awkward silence fell over the City of Gods. Six billion pairs of eyes all turned to stare at the unfortunate, blushing God who had dared to ask.
Sunny, behind his mask, simply stared. He looked at the trembling God, then at the countless female deities in the crowd, who were all glaring at the poor soul with looks of disgust.
And then, his gaze shifted to the male Gods: Zir, Asura, Strategist, Atlas, Joker. All of them were suddenly, with a focus that was almost comical, studying the intricate, architectural details of the floor.
’Oh,’ Sunny thought, his mind suddenly, connecting the dots. ’Oh, that’s why my "Grinder" app idea was such a catastrophic failure.’
He had assud, in his mind, that with immortality and a perfect world, his Gods would naturally pair up, would create bonds, would... mingle.
He had been wrong. The female deities, with their own paths to power, had absolutely zero interest in finding a partner, they only wanted to beco stronger.
Sunny felt a deep pity for all of his, eternally frustrated male Gods. He had just created a celestial paradise for them, a utopia of infinite knowledge and power... and he had overlooked the most basic, most fundantal, and most human of needs.
"That..." Sunny finally said, his voice a mask of calm composure, "is a... failing in the city’s design. A mistake on our part. Yes. That... will be built soon."
He had opened a Pandora’s Box, and now he had to deal with the consequences. "As for who will... work... in such an establishnt, are there any suggestions?"
He didn’t need to ask. He already knew his options, and both were terrible.
One, he could create a new race of demigods for this single purpose, a thought that made his very soul recoil in disgust.
Or two, he could... import... willing lifeforms from his subordinate worlds, a system that sounded horrifyingly similar to the very trafficking that had damned Kitsune.
This was a problem that logic, or faith, or even an SSS-Grade talent, couldn’t easily solve.
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