'Once, my faith spanned multiple worlds. I was the Faceless One, the God of Confusion, the ruler of blurred lines between black and white,' trudging through the streets, Ashur pondered.
'I was the performer on countless stages, the deceiver from the shadows, the keeper of hidden secrets, the master of persuasive tongues, and the god worshipped by those celestial gossipers. But that was all in the past.'
'Now, I won't continue with those confusing tricks. This time, I want to be a be inconspicuous. If I keep stirring up confusion wantonly, the other gods will kill me sooner or later.'
Ashur descended following the call. This kind of call didn't come from a typical prayer.
It wasn't a fervent believer shouting for a god's arrival but rather a call from the very essence of existence.
Much like how a fire attracts a moth, a successful god must know how to journey to their believers or how to nurture new followers.
————
The young vampire lady was named Maya. She sat by a table in the tavern, sipping from an expired blood pack spiked with alcohol.
She gazed at the tavern's lamps, which were made from shimmering crystal stones, a unique mineral of this world, the Gray Lands. More than 30% of this world's total revenue came from mining and synthesizing this material.
"15,781 days since I came to the Gray Lands from the Terra."
"Today's revenue is..."
"Today's expenses are..."
In the tavern, customers were drinking and playing games she had invented, like "Checkers" and "Flying Chess."
The variety of entertainment was a crucial factor in attracting customers. As an outsider from the Terra, Maya discovered that the people here lacked even the most basic forms of entertainment. Although the gods generally suppressed recreational activities, a few simple forms of amusement were still permitted.
Her family, the Nosha Clan, was one of the oldest and most noble vampire families in the Terra. They had served an enigmatic god for generations. But when it came to her generation, that god observed her and decided she was of no use.
She was, after all, a mutant of her family.
Vampires existed in many worlds, and they each referred to themselves differently.
Some called themselves the "Blood Clan," "Blood Worshippers," "Crimson Elves," or "Azure Nobles." Depending on the world and their self-designation, the physiology of each vampire species also varied.
For example, the vampires of the Terra could reproduce like humans and walk in the sunlight without harm. However, their reproduction didn't involve typical rituals; instead, both parents would guide their blood in a ceremony resembling "blood activation," creating a new vampire offspring on an unclaimed blood placenta. This offspring would naturally carry the bloodline traits of both parents.
Maya, as a mutant of the Azure Nobles in the Earth, was immune to the power of blood itself—unable to use blood magic and unaffected by it. Even external blood could not influence her body, and her own blood remained unchanged by any external force.
She also lacked the typical vampire's thirst for blood. Drinking expired blood packs now was purely for amusement, which is why she mixed them with alcohol.
This made Maya's parents wonder, "How did we give birth to such a strange child?" They seriously suspected that the blood placenta they used during the activation ritual had expired, leading to this unexpected mutation.
Moreover, the god her family served would always show a "confused elderly man on a subway" expression whenever descending and noticing Maya's presence, remarking that her birth might either be a result of extraordinary evolution—or it really was due to the expired blood placenta.
Maya herself found life with the family tormenting, so she left, hoping to prove her own worth and slap her family's god in the face.
All gods demand value, and value comes in many forms. Since she couldn't find recognition in the Terra's vampire clan, she would explore other worlds.
Life was long, after all. She wasn't born to serve some vampire god, and she certainly wasn't a useless vampire who was born of some faulty blood placenta, at least that's what her pride denied.
Maya hummed a peculiar tune as she glanced at the lively crowd in the tavern. It was clear that providing games and entertainment was a significant boost to the tavern's business.
"So many kinds of value in this world... Why isn't there a god who creates games?" Maya daydreamed, imagining how much more interesting the world would be if such a god existed.
Ancient games had been circulating for thousands of years across many worlds. Perhaps the main gods had suppressed entertainment development, ensuring no god of games emerged. After all, if people were happy, how could the gods continue to harvest their followers?
Lost in her thoughts, Maya pondered what new game she could introduce to boost the tavern's income once Checkers and Flying Chess grew stale.
[To the one who has created games and possesses unique value, I have come in response to your call.]
[I have a new game for you. Do you want people to try it? Now begins... Fantasy Time.]
Maya heard the voice in her mind.
She froze on the spot...
———
The Gray Lands.
This world was filled with factories and smoke. The sky was a constant gray-black, and the rain was mixed with ash and smog.
The world of the gods was like a cluster of stars in the vast cosmos. Each world was shaped by the gods, its structure, societal systems, and the values of the beings that inhabited it—all designed to continuously harvest crops to feed the gods.
In the Morning Wind Metropolis, factories with black roofs and towering smokestacks belched thick smoke into the polluted air. The grim sunlight barely pierced through, waking the laborers for another day of work.
Rats scurried through dark, damp alleys. Some pedestrians, suffering from pneumonia, coughed softly as they walked the streets in their coats. In front of brothels, dark elves flaunted their bosoms, while the bookstore owner was an octopus-headed creature. Even minotaur thieves lurked in the shadows, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting passersby and harvest their organs.
Alongwith environment pollution, physical and mental pollution worsened by the day.
The city's core themes, and indeed the whole world's, could be summarized by four key phrases: advanced industrial infrastructure, severe environmental pollution, increasing psychological and physical diseases, and insipid life.
As a result, four main gods were worshiped here.
There were also secondary gods—those whose faith wasn't mainstream in this world but might be elsewhere. After all, the gods couldn't heavily invest in every world equally. If they did, conflicts over faith would arise, like two people claiming the same crop of wheat. War would be inevitable.
One of these secondary gods was the God of Sacrifice.
Ashur recalled the god who had destroyed the Faceless One's church. His church was located somewhere in this world and was quite large, but his faith here remained secondary. His focus on sacrifice conflicted with the mainstream gods, who thrived on exploiting the masses for profit.
However, his sacrifices weren't for noble ideals but rather for the pure essence of sacrifice itself.
The act of killing life to offer it to a god was called a sacrifice.
In this process, one party sacrifices themselves or others to achieve their goals.
The object of the sacrifice? The sacrificial offering.
Though the God of Sacrifice had lofty ambitions, he frequently gave lectures among the third-tier gods.
"Now's not the time for revenge."
His faith spanned a dozen worlds, and his followers were highly organized and influential.
—
Returning to the present...
The heavy atmosphere of decay in the Gray Lands made Ashur feel oddly at home.
The tavern was located in the third district of Morning Wind Metropolis, in the southeastern region.
Ashur calibrated the coordinates of the tavern and placed his first divine token there.
This was the first test.
The people of this world were unconsciously calling for him, their bodies and minds both exhausted, crushed by relentless exploitation with no relief.
After modifying his authority with the Enlightenment Rune, the old divine tokens were no longer usable.
Divine tokens were the bridge between gods and their followers. To make things easier, many gods made their tokens into everyday objects, allowing them to be widely used in various worlds.
While these mass-produced tokens were cheap, they still contained divine power. However, those who used them had to pay a small price. The benefit, though, was immediate.
If divine power couldn't produce instant results, why would anyone believe in an evil god?
———
The sky remained perpetually gray, with sunlight struggling to pierce through.
So, the night felt even darker.
Outside the tavern, at some point, a gray metal vending machine appeared.
Its front was made of glass, and the buttons resembled gears. It stood there, as if it had always been there, drawing no suspicion, only curiosity.
In this world, where belief in gods and supernatural power was commonplace, it quickly attracted attention.
Factory owners and their workers, returning home from work—many of whom weren't fully human but near-human creatures—seeing the conspicuous box of metal, gathered around it.
As the machine powered on, a cheerful tune began to play.
It was a melody unlike anything the people of this world had ever heard. No one touched the machine, yet it seemed to beckon to them, the music luring the weary and tired souls closer.
As the passersby gathered around the machine, they began to feel parched, their blood quickening, while a sinister voice whispered in their ears:
"Do you wish to play?"