Deep within the luminous architecture of the City of Gods, housed within the cosmic palm of the Emperor, stood the Hall of Infinite Echoes.
This was a structure that defied physics; from the outside, it appeared as a modest spire of white jade, but inside, it expanded into an auditorium that spanned billions of miles.
Seated within were not hundreds, or thousands, but trillions of Demigods.
Mammon, the Demigod of Greed, stood upon the central dais, his golden robes shimring.
As he looked out at the sea of divine auras, ranging from the soft green of life-aspected spirits to the blood-red radiance of battle-hardened protectors, his face shifted through a spectrum of colors.
"Sister Thea," Mammon whispered, his voice carried to her through a ntal network, "I thought this vote was restricted to the High Council... the direct creations of our Master. Why have the trillions Demigods been summoned? This wasn’t the arrangent."
Mammon was a man of profound internal conflict. One half of his soul cherished the Golden Age they had created, a world where no child cried and no blade was drawn in anger.
The other half, the pragmatic architect, knew that stagnant water eventually turned to poison. He wanted growth, but he feared the cost of the Blood-Tax that war would demand.
By expanding the voter pool, he realized his hope of maintaining the total peace was evaporating.
If only Sunny’s direct creations had voted: with entities born of concepts like Harvest, Peace, and Art... the bill to remove the moral stabilizers would have surely failed.
But the crowd before him was different. These were the beings created by Sunny’s clones to guard the saved universes, or self-made ascendants who had clawed their way to demigodhood through the fires of the Demonic Invasions.
90% of them were fighters. They were warriors who understood that a blade unpolished by conflict eventually rusted. To them, Stagnation was a greater enemy than War.
"Mammon," Thea replied, her voice manifesting as a gentle, lodic chi that captured the attention of every soul in the hall.
She stood beside him, her translucent silver form radiating a calm authority.
"This decree will fundantally alter the reality of every world in the Master’s palm. To exclude those who must live under the new Law would be a violation of the Emperor’s own principle of Sovereignty. They are under His sky; it is their right to choose the color of their horizon."
"If that is the case," Mammon countered, desperation coloring his tone, "then why not let the Gods themselves decide? This is their territory. We are rely the stewards, the house-sitters of a palace while the masters are away. We do not have the right to break the peace they left behind."
A ripple of soft, knowing smiles passed through the assembly of Demigods.
"The Gods have dedicated themselves to the Great Retreat," Thea explained patiently. "They have entered deep ditation to refine their essences and beco worthy of the Master’s future battles. They have entrusted their worlds to us... their trusted Demigods, so that we may learn the weight of leadership. To wake them for a matter of policy would be to admit our own incompetence."
"Speaking of leadership," a lazy, lodic voice drifted from the front row.
A handso male sat with his legs propped up on the jade table, a silk handkerchief draped over his face to shield his eyes from the ambient glow.
Despite the casual posture, the black horns and the chaotic, flickering aura identified him instantly.
"Where is my territory, Thea?" Loki asked, his voice muffled by the silk.
"I’ve been busy playing hide-and-seek in the Demonic Realm for centuries. I’d like to know where I’m supposed to be stewarding before we start voting on how to ruin the neighborhood."
"Brother Loki," Thea replied with a small, playful smirk. "Master has allotted each of us a sector equivalent to a small universe. I have been managing yours in your absence, but since you are back, I would be delighted to hand over the paperwork. It involves the managent and an entire universe and all the sentient lives in it."
Loki nearly fell backward off his chair, the handkerchief fluttering away. "I was just joking, Thea! Truly! You’re doing a magnificent job. I think I’ll just res... focus on my cultivation. My strength needs significant improvent. Yes. Deep ditation. Very deep."
The hall erupted in light-hearted laughter, montarily breaking the tension.
"Why don’t you spar with , Loki?" Nova suggested from the other side of the dais, her draconic eyes glinting with amusent. "I’m sure a few rounds of Physical Education will improve your strength faster than a nap."
Loki shrank back into his seat, mumbling sothing about "unfair draconic advantages," causing another wave of amusent.
However, as the laughter died down, a heavy, expectant silence returned. The holographic screens before each Demigod flickered to life.
"The ti for levity has passed," Thea said, her voice turning somber. "My calculations confirm that the rate of growth across all worlds has reached a critical plateau. If we do not introduce the elent of challenge, our inhabitants will lose the ability to ascend. We must choose: A safe cage or a dangerous sky. Please, cast your votes."
The screens displayed two simple options: [APPROVED] or [DECLINED].
Just as the votes were about to be registered, Mammon stepped to the very edge of the dais.
He didn’t scream; he simply let his Aura hum, drawing every eye to him.
"Demigods of the Multiverse," Mammon began, his voice solemn. "I know I cannot change the tide of this vote. Most of you were forged in war, and you see peace as a weakness. But I ask you to consider the Unintended Variables. If we remove the stabilizers, we do not just allow growth; we allow cruelty. We allow the strong to crush the weak for no reason other than they can."
He paused, looking at the fighters in the crowd. "I will not fight the bill, but I propose a Compromise of Laws. If we allow the division, we must implent Hard Constraints that Thea can enforce using her particles."
He began to list them, his voice gaining strength:
The Law of Infancy: No adult lifeform may directly harm a juvenile of any species.
The Law of Annihilation: No civilization may employ World-destroying level technology or magic without a direct tribunal.
The Law of the Non-Combatant: Areas designated as Sanctuaries shall remain neutral ground, untouched by the fires of war.
The Demigods listened, their initial hostility softening into respect. They wanted growth, but they weren’t monsters.
They saw the wisdom in Mammon’s constraints, it turned the coming conflict from a chaotic slaughter into a structured Ga of Evolution.
"I ask that we listen to every voice," Mammon concluded. "Because in the future the Emperor is building, every one of us will be needed. Let us make Him proud, not by our bloodlust, but by our wisdom."
He turned and walked back to his seat.
For a mont, there was a pin-drop silence. Then, a single clap echoed from the back of the hall, followed by another, until the sound of trillions of hands grew into a rhythmic thunder that shook the very foundations of the City of Gods.
Mammon sat down, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. He reached out and pressed the [APPROVED] button.
The 12th Day has just started. And as the vote finalized, a shimring ripple moved across the sky of the Inner World.
The Safety Net of Thea that prevented the lifeforms from harming each other or doing anything evil was being removed.
And the panel in front of the lifeforms began to glow, showing them the new bill that the council of demigods had passed.
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