The atmosphere at the Child Protection of Belief (CPOB) headquarters was always tense, but today it seemed to hum with a darker energy. Mrs. Claus stood by the entrance, her warm smile masking the anxiety that swirled in the air. Next to her, the Cheshire Cat lounged with his ever-present grin, Hansel nestled in his arms, sleeping deeply despite the unease that filled the room.
Saint Nicholas and Baba Yaga arrived in a blink, their forms solidifying from mist to flesh. As they appeared, both instinctively reached out, touching the Cheshire Cat's shoulder. They knew what was coming—his reality-altering abilities were both familiar and disconcerting. The Cheshire Cat's grin seemed to widen even further, stretching into something almost menacing.
"Welcome," he purred, his voice dripping with amusement, "we have arrived… TO THE GOD REALM!" His words were both playful and edged with malice, as if he relished the power that brought them here, to this place that was neither heaven nor earth, but somewhere infinitely more dangerous.
Baba Yaga glanced around, her eyes narrowing. The God Realm was a place of contradictions—where time did not flow as it should, where every shadow whispered secrets, and every corner seemed to hide something waiting to pounce. She had been here before, many lifetimes ago, and the memory was not a pleasant one.
Saint Nicholas, however, seemed unfazed. "Why here, Cat?" he asked, his tone gruff but curious. "What mischief are you planning this time?"
The Cheshire Cat chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a dark light. "Oh, Saint Nicholas, always so suspicious," he cooed, "Can't a humble trickster bring his friends to a little… playground?"
Baba Yaga scoffed. "Playground, you say? More like a battlefield for the forgotten gods. Why drag us into your madness, Cat?"
The Cheshire Cat's smile twitched, just a flicker, but enough to show a hint of irritation beneath his ever-present grin. "Madness, dear Baba Yaga? Oh, you wound me. No, I simply thought it would be… entertaining." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I wanted to ask you something, Saint Nicholas, about our lovely companion here."
Santa met his gaze, frowning slightly. "What about Baba Yaga?"
"Oh, just a curiosity," the Cat said, almost innocently. "I've heard so many stories, you see. They say she eats children, that she's the boogeyman of the Slavic forests… But you and I know better, don't we?"
Baba Yaga's eyes glinted dangerously. "Careful, Cat," she warned, "There are truths and there are tales, and even you should know the difference."
The Cheshire Cat laughed, a sound that seemed to echo endlessly in the void around them. "Oh, I know, Baba Yaga. I know. But our dear Santa here…" He turned to Saint Nicholas, still grinning. "He seems to believe the tales. Isn't that right, Saint Nicholas? You thought Baba Yaga ate children, didn't you?"
Santa's eyes narrowed. "I may have… considered it. But I've learned better over the centuries. Baba Yaga's stories are her own."
The Cat chuckled. "Indeed. And yet, here we are, all gathered in this divine place. One could almost think it was fate." He paused, his grin widening. "Or perhaps… a prank?"
Baba Yaga's expression softened just a little. "A prank, Cat? You want to pull another prank on Santa?"
The Cheshire Cat's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, I think we already have, dear Baba. You see, if you were truly planning to eat children… you wouldn't be here today."
A laugh bubbled up from Baba Yaga, deep and throaty. "No, indeed I wouldn't," she agreed, her voice laced with humor. "And if I were, I might start with you, Cat."
The Cheshire Cat laughed too, a genuine sound this time. "Ah, but you couldn't, Baba. I'm far too quick for you." Then, his grin grew even more wicked. "Besides, you wouldn't want to ruin our fun, now would you?"
Santa chuckled, shaking his head. "You two... always up to something."
The Cheshire Cat nodded in agreement, and as they stood in the swirling chaos of the God Realm, for a brief moment, the tension broke, replaced by the strange camaraderie that only those who had seen the darkness could share.
The Cheshire Cat's grin stretched impossibly wide, a sinister curl to his lips. "Oh, the stories," he murmured with a dark glee, "the stories we tell to keep the mortals—and even the Ascenders—teetering on the edge of madness." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "But we know, don't we, that they're all lies. Delicious, dangerous lies."
In that moment, the Cheshire Cat's true intentions glinted in his eyes like shattered glass. His only goal: to sow chaos, to twist minds, to unravel the sanity of anyone—mortal or divine—who dared cross his path. He was the God of Insanity, after all, and nothing pleased him more than the descent into madness.
As if responding to an unseen command, the three deities were suddenly ripped from their place, the air shimmering and folding around them. In an instant, they were transported into a bizarre meeting room. A room that defied all logic, where the entirety of the cosmos—no, the entire hyperverse—seemed to be compressed into one confined space. Galaxies swirled in the corners, stars blinked like nervous eyes, and black holes hovered ominously overhead. Every inch of the room pulsed with the raw power of creation and destruction.
Saint Nicholas stood calmly at the center, his expression one of mild amusement, as if he were merely waiting for an old friend to arrive. "Of course," he murmured, "It's always like this."
The Cheshire Cat's grin never faltered. "Surprised, Saint Nicholas?" he asked, his voice laced with a mocking tone. "Or do you, the God of Joy, find this room too… mundane for your tastes?"
Santa, or rather, Saint Nicholas, the God of Joy, shook his head with a gentle smile. "Hardly, Cat. I've been here before. This is the heart of everything… and yet, nothing at all." His voice held a calm authority, a gentle power that could soothe the most tortured soul.
Baba Yaga, the Goddess of the Dark, scanned the room with narrowed eyes. "The hyperverse… trapped in a single space. I've seen many things, but this... this is new, even to me."
The Cheshire Cat chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate throughout the cosmic room. "New? Perhaps. But isn't it delightful, Baba? We're standing in a room that contains everything… and nothing. A perfect place for gods such as ourselves to meet, wouldn't you say?"
Baba Yaga's expression was unreadable, her dark eyes piercing through the madness. "Why are we here, Cat? What game are you playing now?"
"Oh, no game, dear Baba," the Cheshire Cat replied, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Just… an opportunity. For us to come together, to discuss… things."
Saint Nicholas chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Things, you say? You're not here to discuss, Cat. You're here to disrupt, to twist, to make everyone in this room dance to your tune."
The Cheshire Cat's grin widened even further, his teeth gleaming like knives. "Ah, you know me too well, Saint Nicholas. But isn't that the fun of it? To see how far I can push, how deep I can delve into the minds of gods and mortals alike? To see who will break first?"
"And what do you gain from this madness?" Baba Yaga asked, her voice low and dangerous.
The Cheshire Cat's eyes gleamed with an unsettling light. "Oh, my dear Baba, what does any god gain from their domain? You bring the darkness, Nicholas brings joy… I bring insanity. I merely want to… share my gift."
Santa's expression grew serious. "Then why bring us here? To this place where everything and nothing exist at once?"
The Cheshire Cat laughed again, a sound that seemed to echo through every star, every galaxy within the room. "Because, Saint Nicholas, we are gods. And gods should never be bored." His eyes flicked between them, and for a moment, his smile faltered. "And perhaps… perhaps, I needed some company, even if it's just to witness the chaos."
The room seemed to pulse in response, a silent agreement between forces too powerful to name. They were gods, each with their own role to play. But in this room—this impossible, cosmic meeting room—they were equals. And for the first time in eons, the God of Insanity felt something akin to comfort in the madness he had created.
As the cosmic room hummed with the weight of their words, an oppressive silence fell over the gathered deities. Then, without warning, a sudden, overwhelming aura pressed down upon them, a force so immense that even the Cheshire Cat's perpetual grin momentarily faltered.
A cold, silver light began to fill the room, seeping in from every direction, blurring the lines between the hyperverse contained within this surreal space. The Man in the Moon had arrived. His form was not a body, but a shifting silhouette, an ethereal figure composed of moonlight and shadows, glowing with an eerie, otherworldly radiance. His presence felt like a chill in the marrow, a creeping dread that seemed to sink into the bones of even these powerful gods.
And beside him stood another, an even more enigmatic figure: Zefron the Third, the God of Eternity. A figure cloaked in shadows, his eyes hidden beneath a thick, tattered hood. The man who created a god. The king who shaped the Man in the Moon with his will alone. Zefron, the blind idiot god, whose sightless gaze seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality.
The Cheshire Cat's grin widened once more, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "Oh, the Blind Idiot God himself graces us with his presence," he purred, his voice laced with both mockery and something like respect. "And you, Man in the Moon… here to oversee our little gathering, I presume?"
The Man in the Moon did not answer immediately. His form shimmered, shifting with the light and shadows, an inscrutable expression on his celestial face. When he spoke, his voice was like the sound of distant stars dying, a whisper that filled the entire room. "Cheshire… you play your games in my realm. Do not forget who granted you your cursed smile."
The Cheshire Cat's grin tightened, and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, I never forget, Moon Man. Every twist of my lips reminds me. But tell me… what brings you here? Surely not just to bask in our company?"
Zefron the Third chuckled softly, a sound that was more like a rumble from deep within the earth, like the grinding of ancient stones. "Oh, Cheshire," he muttered, his voice thick with a cryptic amusement. "I am here because I have seen… something interesting. A shift, perhaps. The turning of a cosmic wheel. And where the wheel turns, I am not far behind."
Baba Yaga glanced between them, her eyes sharp and calculating. "What wheel, Zefron?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. "What are you plotting now, Blind Idiot God?"
Zefron's unseen gaze seemed to settle on her, a weightless pressure that felt like the shifting of worlds. "Plotting? No. I simply watch. And I wait. For in eternity, all things come to pass… eventually."
The Man in the Moon's ethereal form grew brighter, his voice cutting through the tension. "Your games grow tiresome, Cat. Even your chaos has limits. The gods have limits." His gaze swept over the room, lingering on each deity, as if weighing their worth. "You tread on dangerous ground… all of you."
The Cheshire Cat's smile grew once more, his grin splitting his face like a razor's edge. "Dangerous? Perhaps," he whispered, his voice dripping with amusement. "But isn't that why we're here? To find the edges, to push them, to see who falls first?"
Zefron's chuckle deepened, his amusement clear, but his words heavy. "Mind the edge, Cheshire Cat. For even gods can fall… and when they do, they fall forever."
The Man in the Moon, his presence now a chilling force that filled the room, added in a voice like distant thunder, "And some gods… never get back up again."
The Cheshire Cat's eyes glinted with mischief, his grin unwavering. "We shall see," he murmured, his voice a soft purr against the cosmic winds. "We shall see."