The clouds rumbled and obscured the battlefield. For tense minutes, nothing could be seen. It felt like forever, which was impressive, for the Gods had lived for eons. Mere hours that mortals measured their time in was nothing but a passing moment for them, but today, it was different. Today, the vile Avatar of Chaos fought their greatest champions.

They were losing.

“This isn’t working as well,” spoke the frail old man that was Lord Time. He stroked his wavy, white beard and peered at the clouds.

“Nothing is,” growled Mother Nature, her nose wrinkled and voice seething with fury. Her hair of thorny vines sought to choke any that would dare come close, but none would. It was understandable. Even as they sat upon their thrones, watching the events unfold below, her very heart was being choked by the Outsider.

There was a time that they fought amongst each other but that time had long since passed. Chaos didn’t pick sides. It sought to devour all in its path, and to quarrel was to accept defeat —a concept the Gods wouldn’t even entertain.

“Nothing will. We’ve done all we can. I know we have,” said Lord Time and closed his eyes, awaiting his demise. He’d lived the lifetimes of all the Gods combined and some more. He’d seen all there that could be seen and he was understandably weary.

“Then think harder,” hissed Mother Nature, glaring daggers into the old man that was nothing but bones and skin, concealed by a cloak made of slithering shadows, “You have an eternity!”

“I’ve been thinking for millennia. Nothing comes to mind. All is lost,” whispered Lord Time.

The council was silent.

None dared open their mouth.

They all knew what it meant. The Gods would be no more. The world would be no more. It’d be perverted and contorted into a shape that none wanted to know. Destroying the world itself to save it from an eternity of pain and misery was the only choice.

“It’s all over,” said Father Ruin as he stood up from his throne. 

All of existence shuddered under his weight and his titanic body annihilated a thousand worlds and stars with that simple motion. The fur of the First Wolf swayed behind his back, breaking apart thousands more. When he raised his mace, millions shattered and broke into dust that couldn’t be seen by even the gaze of Brother Wisdom.

Centillions had died but the plague that was Chaos wouldn't stop with a single planet. If they lost a single planet, the war would be over. There was no hope. It was like acid. It ate away at everything that it touched and nothing could stop it, for it would eat away that too.

With a single swing of his mace, half the world was wiped clean.

Yet the Chaos persisted as a purple dot in the middle of nowhere, expanding, eating away at the very concept of time and space itself. Nothing could stop it. It was inevitable but it could be delayed.

If an eon wasn’t much time for the Gods, to Chaos, it was even less. It wouldn’t reach their world its last days and that was enough. It was an insurmountable behemoth that could never be stopped and trying to fight back was nothing but suicide.

Defeating its champion, though, would be manageable.

After all, it was nothing but a mortal blessed with the powers of Chaos —it could and would die, but it could only be killed by those weaker than it. It was immune to all the Gods could do so they employed their own Avatars, only for them to fail. Its perverse nature wouldn’t protect its true body from the Gods, but they wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to its full might.

As powerful as the Gods were, their powers were nothing compared to that of the Chaos. No matter how many of their Avatars fought together, they couldn’t land a scratch on the Avatar of Chaos.

“Do we admit defeat?” asked Brother Wisdom with his booming voice. Unlike the others, he did not have a corporeal body, instead appearing as a massive blue star that could illuminate all of existence with his light.

An uncomfortable silence rested within the council room if it could be called that.

“I have a way, but none of you would like it,” said Sister Ego, lying on her throne with her back touching the seat while her legs swung to one side of the throne. The other handle of the throne served as her pillow, softened by her cupped hands placed behind her head. There was an odd smirk on her face, always present.

Had their perception of time been as it was, with each swing of her feet, all worlds in its path would be destroyed and before it made another round, more planets filled with life would have taken their place but they were functioning far faster than feasible, counting in nanoseconds rather than decades.

“Humor us,” said Brother Wisdom.

His voice came from all around them, resonating with such intensity that no mortal would be able to survive its intensity. It was for this reason that no creature born on planets formed within the council room had no hearing at all.

“There’s only one way for us to win,” said Sister Ego and hopped up to her seat, now sitting instead of lying on it, “We turn back time and reincarnate.”

“And sacrifice our divinity?” asked Father Ruin.

“It’s the only way,” said Brother Wisdom after hearing.

“We don’t have to lose our Divinity. It’ll enter the cycle and we’ll be reincarnated as long as the world exists. There are several problems, though. Amnesia, for one. A silver lining to this is that all memories of our mortal selves will be inherited by the next and we’ll unlock more of our powers the longer our Divinity remains in the cycle,” said Sister Ego and let out a short giggle, “But isn’t that fun? We’ll be starting from zero. There’s a lot to do. Trillions of adventures to be had. Interstellar travel will be allowed. Technology will succeed. Immortality could be achieved. We could even get tiny, little godlings in this new world.”

“You would have us abandon our powers?” roared Father Ruin, slamming his foot on the pedestal of his throne.

With it, all life died.

“It’s the only way,” reasoned Brother Wisdom.

“It’s unthinkable!” roared out Lady Space, “You wish for us to abandon our only chance?”

“Would you rather fight the Chaos?” asked Sister Ego and all fell silent. No one breathed, for such a concept was beneath them.

Mother Nature had persevered, protecting the hundred worlds in her vicinity from Father Ruin’s onslaught: they were her lifeline.

“It will take all that I have to return us to the dawn of time,” said Lord Time, breaking the silence. He stood there, rubbing his forehead as he stared at the blob of purple growing by the second, now the size of a supercluster after a fragment of the Chaos entered their world, using the core of the planet as fuel for a portal of its size, “I will not be present.”

“But how will we live on without time?” asked Lady Space, her brows furrowed.

“Time is a constant. My death means nothing. All will be fixed in due time,” said Lord Time and so he decreed, his finger raised. Its light blanketed the entire world and a clock of a size unquantifiable ticked once.

Many had traveled through time before, but not this far.

Not to the birth of the universe —not to the moment they all were born.

“We have more time once more,” said Lady Space as she stared at the birth of the world. Its light was bright enough to encompass the entire world in its brilliance and from the origin spread matter. Large rocks were thrown to the furthest reaches of the world and they stared at eight brilliant stars come into existence.

Orange for Father Ruin. Green for Mother Nature. Blue for Brother Wisdom. Red for Sister Ego. Gray for Lord Time. Purple for Lady Space. White for Master Genesis. Black for Mistress Death.

Master Genesis and Mistress Death only spoke when called for, and they hadn’t been.

“They’re us,” said Master Genesis, a titanic man of marble with eyes as luminescent as Brother Wisdom. When open, his eyes were enough to flood the entire universe with light. He rarely opened his eyes, once in dozens of eons, but he did now, “We are born.”

“And we have died,” said Mistress Death, her voice sweet and soothing. It swallowed the light and replaced it with a sweet, blissful void. When they spoke, they did so together. Each of their actions flooded the world with their presence and the other snuffed it out for mortals to grow.

“We died?” roared Father Ruin, “We are immortal.”

“We must. What once was must no longer be for new life to blossom,” said Master Genesis.

“And when what once was is no more, there will be more to come,” said Mistress Death.

“There’s not much time. Once we form, we will have to battle and Mother Nature will inevitably fall,” said Brother Wisdom. His voice thrummed and pushed back against the forming lights, reducing their volume to a quarter of their size, delaying their formation, “We must reincarnate with haste.” 

“Father Ruin,” spoke Sister Ego and raised her hand, palm facing upward. After a groan, Father Ruin stabbed his chest with his hand and pulled out a core of bright orange. He placed it upon Sister Ego’s hand and faded.

Mother Nature followed suit, followed by Lady Space, leaving three cores to hover over her hand.

“We must not be,” whispered Brother Wisdom and focused his will on Mistress Death. Light bright enough to burn all that came between it and his target. None but Mistress Death would hear his hushed words, “Not if we wish to succeed.”

With that, Brother Wisdom exploded in a bright, blue flash and his core appeared upon Sister Ego’s palms. Then Sister Ego handed the cores to Master Genesis and from her forehead appeared a red marble, taking its place among her peers.

“Let them go. We must keep the balance,” spoke Mistress Death and Master Genesis nodded, and with a snap, he built a facsimile of the cycle and led them into it. The cores would reach the mortals and they would be reincarnated in the first millennium of civilization.

“In one go,” said Master Genesis.

“In one go,” parroted Mistress Death.

Their presence extended. The very nature of Genesis was opposite to Death. Its mere touch could burn her and in excess, it could kill her. When Master Genesis acted, it was often in excess. She would hit back as well, and her powers of death were doubly more effective on Master Genesis.

Master Genesis left their previous selves untouched.

Mistress Death did not.

She let her powers eat away at their unborn eggs, turning them into nothingness all save for one: the core of Lord Time.

The three remaining cores of Time, Genesis, and Death entered the cycle as well, restarting the world anew, powered not by the Great Gods but by their cores —mere fragments of their power. 

The world would be weaker, smaller, more compact, smarter.

No Great God would be born in this world.

Not yet.

Not until they reached their full potential and that wouldn’t be before the arrival of Chaos.

Stripped away of their memories and power, they would be born not as Great Gods but as mere mortals gifted with a fragment of their power. This would grow with time, tempered into something greater —something closer to their true powers.

They’d be greater than any Avatar of theirs could be and only then would they have a chance against the Avatar of Chaos.

But this was the dawn of time. They had nothing but time. Eons upon eons of time to temper their powers. To prepare the world. To strengthen the world. Enough time for mortals to develop things that they would have never allowed had they been allowed…

Enough time for there to be a divergence.