Stanton
*There was no change in the crystal shard as Edon sought to blot the light and rend an intimidating gesture of eyes upon the surface of the sky. It was, after all, simply a shard of crystal. It had no face to rend expression, no hair to stand on end and no blood to rush. Rav'nixander was simple, pure crystal, and had no need to feel the fear and panic of gods derived from mortality.*

"You seek an end state that you refuse to explain. You conduct horrors upon god and mortal and Gaia in service to it. You claim that service to this Fate places you above your peers and above that which made you. All you have made is weapons in service to a horrendous vision driven by what? That the inscrutable tree from which we manifest is not *Sufficiently talkative*?"

*Rav was still participating of course, as the lasers began to dance around the inside of this arena-body, panes and curves of crystal manifested to refract the beams away from more of Gaia's fruits.*

"I cannot claim to be any more the will of Gaia than you. But I know my duty. It is to mortals and to my peers. And writ upon the essence of each god is something you have forgotten. That each god is equivalent in strength to another. So what does that say for your claims to glimpse through time?"

*No attacks, just an utter dedication to defense. Attacking would be a futile act that serves only to allow this malicious god time to fester and regrow.*

"And if such a cruel fate as yours existed. Then it would be the duty of every sapient to strive against it. I call for a ritual of binding."
Michael
Pureman wasted no time in taking charge of the situation. A few of the gods present (as well as a new arrival or two) went about defending the fruit from Edon's onslaught. Pureman would not be one of them. He took a risk; for once in his immortal life allowed his trust to be placed in others. This temporary mingling of many different concepts filled him with disgust, but it was necessary to protect Mother Gaia and her children. As Edon whirled in a furious, dazzling display of outward malice, the God of Purity strode ever closer, unfazed. A sliver of grey slowly moving into the eye of the eclipse. No light was cast upon him that would change his appearance, it was not possible to mark the most pure being in the universe with an outer influence. 

As several beams were cast in his direction, Pureman took the broom in one hand, twirling it before swinging it with one hand. An arc of silver caught the beams in the wake of the swing, causing both the beams and the metal itself to fizzle into a roiling mass of molten sludge, only to disintegrate into curling white smoke as it landed on the branch. He picked up the pace, starting to run. Holding the broom behind him with both hands as he drew nearer to Edon. As he listened to his siblings each saying their piece on why Edon did was wrong, sinful, etcetera. Pureman grew irritated with them, shouting back at them in an irritated tone,

"You've said enough! Defend our Mother's children or keep monologuing. Pick **One** Or the **Other**! Utter buffoons. This is why I don't—" Pureman ducked under another wave of beams coming towards him, sweeping away another cluster with his broom and sending a cloud of white smoke billowing up into Gaia's foliage. "—ASSOCIATE, *HYARGH!*, WITH ANY OF YOU!"

Pureman accelerated into a full-on sprint. A ritual of binding was a good idea, yes. But Pureman wanted to go a step further. He finally made it within striking range of Edon.

"I veto that motion," He called out, swinging the broom in a sweeping, upward arc at Edon, "In favour of a ritual of— *RAGH—!*" Pureman was struck in the shoulder by one of the beams, a searing orange mark ate away at his clothing before it turned white and fizzled into smoke. A bonus of being the god of purity. No lingering status effects.

Pureman pushed through the pain, exerting himself to put some more power into the broom-uppercut. Even if the strike missed it would leave several silver projections behind that would explode into brilliant white sparks, freezing away any corruption like one would freeze a wart before ripping it out at the core. 
After pulling his strike through, Pureman backstepped, skidding across the branch and leaving a bright silver trail of flames as his feet skidded across the wood.

As he finally slid to a halt the flaming trail leading from him to Edon whipped upwards from his feet before whipping back down. Acting similar to a rope and continuing the motion across the trail. The two lines of flime rolled like waves, growing in size until there were two giant, roaring whips of white flame lashing out at Edon. Pureman put the broom brush-side down on the branch, leaning on it to rest for a moment.

He muttered a quiet prayer to Gaia before raising his head and in a quiet voice, calling for the ultimate price for Edon's transgressions. A punishment so severe that no god would wish it upon another. A punishment the likes of which was only meant for the most depraved and vile beings, one of whom was presently in front of them. Though his voice was quiet, the statement itself was powerful enough to be heard from here to some of the closer realms below.

**"I call for a Ritual of Divine Fracture."**

This was not something to take lightly. Though it had not been mentioned before, it was likely that most of the gods present knew what it would entail for Edon. Though a fitting punishment, it was not something inconsequential for the others.
Richard
Xanthous frowned lightly, watching this turn of events with a slight cock of his head. A sudden smirk appeared on his visage as he finally realized what was happening, and through it all Gaia reigned serenely still, though he could feel the disgust from his *Mother.* In one movement, Xanthous leaped from his seated, position. He had no reason to protect the fruit of his *Mother*, the others were doing it for him. Nimbly, he avoided the beams, ducking and weaving to get close. Xanthous was a melee God, at times, he felt no need to fight using different means. Taking the words of his brother to heart, Xanthous evaded more, a smile on his face. Power was everything. Only when two being were on the same level of power, did anything else matter-

He was hit in the left arm by one of the beams, leaving a charred mark in his bicep. Normally, he would've slowed down, especially while his brother, the one with the broom, called for a ritual. Of course, even he, a newly born God, knew the seriousness for this ritual. With what seemed to be a battle cry, the God slid on the branches of his *Mother*, then preforming what would've been an impossible maneuver for any mortal. Without losing momentum, he twisted upwards, foot extended. He headed upwards, towards the face of the serpent, unsure if it would even connect, as his lower body was spewing beams. Xanthous was in a tough position, especially with his left arm radiating pain that only a deity could inflict...

"Edon, stop this foolishness." The God said, rocketing through the air.
Michael
With the first onslaught unleashed, Tsu swiftly reacts as the most enraged deity in the group. Edon perceives an opportunity to manipulate her to his advantage. The lashing of her hair creates chaos on the battlefield, which he sees as advantageous. The obstacles and barriers she created hinder the other deities' attacks, while Edon has free reign to unleash barrage after barrage. The chaotic wildfire she ignites and the cloud of ash she produces pose more of an obstruction to those around than a threat to him. It's an uncalculated first strike, clouding vision and obscuring the battle. Others will need to reposition, potentially falling victim to the serpent's spectral beams and vibrant arcs.*

*The small thread Tsu sends initially finds its mark, sinking into some of Edon's eyes and burning away his vision. Some of his beams begin to fade as he screams out, though no sign of pain can be discerned in his voice, only a debauched pleasure, a groan of satisfaction. He yearns to feel something, even pain. He willingly allows the thread to dance between his eyes, creating a network of bright flares that mark him as a target. Strangely, they quickly fizzle out as he absorbs the oxygen from the flares, transmuting the surrounding air into a vile concoction—a flammable gas mixed with strange elements. The tree begins to reek of burning, and the flares flicker back to life, setting off a chain explosion that he hopes will engulf unsuspecting deities. Edon manipulates the impact, altering it into a cold and icy surface to disrupt the gods' perceptions and expectations. He shoots another sinister glance before shifting attention to the newborn god floating down from a nearby area, eager to join the fray.*

``"A new sister steps upon the land, believing herself to be the one who knows the truth. But inevitability does not lie with her. I am the inevitable, sister. I am fate. I am the sealing ritual that will bind your hands and legs and unravel you across the cosmos like the insolent stillborn you should have been. I should have devoured you when I had the chance. I should have broken that wretched incubation pod and feasted upon your dying screams,"` *The serpent cackles with unrivalled ferocity and feral wails, empowered by the truth in his words. Or so he thinks, believing that fate surpasses all other factors. However, the world brought him here for a reason, even if they do not see it.*

`"Mother would not have birthed me if she did not believe in my intentions. You deities all grew stale before me, comfortable. Now look, see the change I breathe upon our frail essence. SEE THE HATRED IN YOUR EYES. THE DESIRE TO MAIM, TO KILL. YOU ARE AS BLOODTHIRSTY AS ME. Mother will... She will see this, she will smile upon you,"` *The deity begins to sniffle and sob, contorting quickly once more into an uproar of groans and putrid gargles as he hacks up and spits out the remains of the unborn deity back onto the floor. The barely developed creature, the untaken form... A sight so nightmarish it may have been outright mind-breaking for some. To see what was left of his efforts.*

`"Then she will abandon you... JUST LIKE SHE LEFT THIS ONE TO DIE. Kyeheh... AHAHAHAHHAHA~"` *Even through this speech of absurdity and almost prophetic failed wisdom, he still sounds calm. With his voice raised and booming, there is still satisfaction. His laugh still holds onto a form of sanity. He is becoming like the gods around him, changing to fit the situation. To represent everything, he hates about them. No clear intent to his final goal or what he hopes to gain from these creatures that battled so desperately to keep him from giving their mother what she truly deserved.*
`"Scream for me, deities, enrapture me in your anger. Show your mother how much of a monster you truly are."`

*As the explosion from his counter ripples outwards, coating the battlefield in a thick cloud of smog, a distinct sizzling sound emerges as the cold wave and Abrielle's heated blast converge upon each other. Steam rises into the air before Edon's howling pain fills the air once more. The cruel heat bubbles and blisters his scales, causing the form he had taken to fall apart. It becomes harder and harder to maintain, transforming into mismatched parts of anatomy copied from the gods around him. It is a hybrid abomination, insulting the more lawful gods and declaring true war. Edon sullies their names and forms with his deviations and mutations, all the while cackling with agony. The serpent retaliates amidst the mess of attacks and the already obscured minefield of battle. Portals open all around Abrielle, rippling with necrotic black energy, while cold flames burn brightly around the rim. Peering into these nightmarish visions, thousands upon thousands of dormant chains suddenly bolt out and head towards the portal. It is an incomprehensible amount of firepower, an unreal level of power for a god.*

*Yet it is all for naught. Edon has created a demi-plane in this moment, using it to create fake displays of power and attacks that crush the resolve of his foes. The moment the swarm of chains reaches the point where they should break through the portal, they fizzle out and drop. The real threat of this counter comes from the floor, where a small glyph forms and fires a smaller but still deadly quantity of divine chains to seal and contain the goddess. They move in Edon's usual pattern, with no clear choreography or predictable movements, wrapping around each other and coiling like serpents. They all head towards her, motivated by her speech, as Edon beckons out across the sounds of destruction.*

`"Silence. You know not what you say,"` *He blandly responds, lacking an actual counterargument. In this particular statement, he lets his actions speak instead of words. Abrielle raises a valid point; one he will have to try his hardest not to think about for the rest of this encounter. His inner monologue runs rampant, with thoughts and opinions shifting and changing, eclipsing his own mind. He will blot out any form of sensitivity. There is no time for diplomacy or understanding—this is war. Just in time, the god stops his spin to sense the oncoming attack from Haventar, a newly arrived god in the scenario.*

*The gods keep coming. Is he truly hopeless?*

*His frilled tail vibrates and judders, its soft flesh hardening into a reflective substance resembling glass. The gods may catch their own warped and mutated perceptions of the fate serpent in this window. None of it is pretty; each one appears decayed and withered, missing limbs and body parts. Edon sees them all as incomplete, half-baked creatures. The incoming beam is met by his tail, splitting into multiple tints and shades that make up the attack. Each individual component is stripped to its bare bones before being launched back at the god as a prismatic blast. The split bolts curl and coil around each other, sowing further confusion. The globe stops before reaching the target and unravels into a small pyramid, firing a wave from each of its bases. It creates a constant divider and a new moving hazard on the battlefield. It becomes incredibly hard to see between Tsu's beams, the smog, and flames from Edon and Abrielle's clash, as well as the constant array of beams being fired from the pyramid. It becomes outright nonsensical. It is only a matter of time before the gods harm each other and create an opening for him to strike.*

`"Our Mother has total influence over what she creates. She created me this way. You are the superseders, going against what nature intended when I split from my divine fruit. Go back to rest, wretch,"` *Edon's form bounces and springs out of the flames finally, landing with a small bounce as he uses his tail to hop just above the ground, preventing too much environmental damage should anything spread across the floor. His form is still coming undone, expending so much divine energy just to stay on an even footing for a split second. There is a clear indication that he cannot fight at this strength for another round, but he will make the most of the driving hate he feels. His demi-plane and manipulation of others are the keys to surviving. He no longer expects to win. Fate has told him this from the moment more deities showed up, from the moment a god of order was born from their fighting. Gaia is against him. He needs somebody else, another deity to show up, something else.*

`"Children of Gaia, those left to be abandoned, rear your heads, rally to me. Answer this call for our revenge against her insolence. If you are out there, I implore you, answer this call,"` *The fate god preaches these words as far as he can. His voice booms with enough energy to drown out the noise from all the attacks for a second. After his speech finishes, an eerie silence falls, as if the air and noise take a moment to catch up with themselves.*

*The light continues to be blotted out in his depraved power. From the large billowing black energy that covers the light source, patterns and sigils begin to form. Edon is preparing something big, though it will take time to be launched. He simply needs to keep himself stable. Each sigil has a small version of a respective deity engraved upon it, specialized runes and sequences meant to cause struggle for every god.*

*His thoughts are interrupted by the small crystal shard that had been oh so boring to the fate god thus far. The words it speaks do nothing but increase Edon's anger and motivation to win, and this is no exception. His body begins to repair itself faster, rebuilding from the burns and gashes as if he wishes to prove a point to the crystal, to show that he is more than just an equal. An equal wouldn't attempt to fight this many gods. He may be equal on a purely power level, but there is an ambition and feral drive within him that surpasses the deities around him. He is driven by instinct, mindless carnage replaced by change, turning mindless attacks into something smarter and more calculated, albeit randomly calculated.*

`"She ignores me, shuns me... She is no parent. She is a siren, a cruel mistress that lures us in with the promises of power, then leaves us to wilt when we act upon it. I have not forgotten my place; I simply refuse to conform."` *Edon's eyes continue to peer upon the defence created by the deities—the walls and barricades. They are all working to protect the fruits that will allow him just a bit more time to hopefully launch an attack that could wound or maim some of the deities enough to make this a fight he could potentially turn in his favour. He hopes his call for a higher power will be answered, that another deity may appear to lend him aid, even if they are not friends or do not completely agree. The joint capabilities should be more than enough to dispose of what remains of such feeble-minded children.*

`"You cannot march against fate; it is the endless tide, the call to ascension. Only I can change it, for I am change. What are you but a pawn in the great scheme? I do not wish to rule, I do not wish for control. I wish to see this path wind out until there are no more bricks to lay. If that includes the total subjugation and erasure of fellow deities to achieve it, I will do so, just as you would do everything needed to ensure your domain and dominion are held."` *Edon is now constantly shifting his mass, in a constant state of avoidance, transmuting and contorting his body into unorthodox shapes and patterns to remain forever moving and able to deal with whatever strange projectiles or attacks are launched towards him. No longer a serpent, no longer a defined form, he is just an ever-shifting, undulating mass of divine energy, pulsing and squirming like a broken heart.*

*The shifting proves useful as the anti-corrupter rushes and the whips and broom raise up, only to flail back downwards upon Edon's distorted mass. Though they do not go unnoticed, the burning divine energy clashing with his movements creates a sense of friction, and Edon's howls continue to fill the surroundings as it tears away at some of his being and divinity. The group is fighting well, but this isn't teamwork. They are still obscuring the battlefield, which works to his advantage at least in that aspect. Their serpentine head lashes out from the shroud of mutation towards Pureman, attempting to grapple and bite down on his shoulder, while the rest of his body stretches out and warps, contorting to fit around the god like a constrictor snake. He tries to grapple the deity, forcing incoming attacks upon their friend. Beyond the chainmail and strange triangles, even in their purest appearances, he sees a fragment of what could be—change, manipulation, the power he could possess if he were able to get into one's head.*

*While mind control is far beyond a god's capabilities, planting intrusive seeds of misdirection and doubt is feasible, although resistible. If the two were to engage in physical combat, Edon would expend some of his power to try and warp the god's perception of the situation, causing a vision of the tree burning, the goddess of Ashes, TSU. Basking in the burning remains of their mother. He attempts to deceive and manipulate this god's determination, creating a twisted scene, trying to worm himself into the mind of another to present himself as the good guy.*

`"Do you see it, brother? Do you see her fate? Do you see what must be done? For I have. Now I must share it with you..."` *Edon's voice is a low rumbling growl, echoing the voices of every other deity present. He mixes and matches words and accents, creating a jester's imitation of their collective voices. The speech becomes slurred and garbled, each god's own words and pronunciations forced and twisted upon them, a game of mental gymnastics.

He continues strong, but from the gods in the distance, they can see that he is rapidly shrinking in divine mass, his body decaying and giving out. The scales start to rot, the light in his eyes dimming. The forced power here is consuming him, and it's only a matter of time until, like a star, he burns out and fizzles. Attempting to perform the ritual while he still fights is suicide, and his words reflect this as they become harsh and booming once more.*

 NO, YOU WILL NOT BANISH MY DIVINITY."

*A drawn-out pause... A moment to breathe, a single breath exhaled before the onslaught against him continues. His words and actions will soon come together. He just has to hold out a little longer, but his thoughts are being torn asunder. He loses his calm and collects mannerisms, his voice becoming guttural and low, filled with a sense of feral inspiration. Even the deity of hunting cannot match the lack of composure exuded by the fate weaver.*

# No, you can't."

 "You can't, brother..."

*His voice is riddled with fear—a ritual, a punishment far worse than death. To strip him of everything but leave him alive in this world, still suffering, with nothing he can do about it. That fate makes the serpent's skin crawl with misery greater than even Melancholia could have hexed upon him. More growls and hisses. The sigils on the blotted-out sky begin to glow harsher, matching the deities' colours and appearances. It's getting close to his attack. Now may be the time for panic.*

*Xanthous makes a quick attempt to interrupt the god before he managed to unleash his volley, the incoming kick would connect with the swirling mass. Edon screeching as he feels the full wrath of a divine being up close and personal once more. A large serpent maw extends outwards from Edons current form and attempts to clamp down upon the foot. Hoping to hold Xanthous in place whilst he also tussled with Pureman in an attempt to break his mind.*

`"If I stop now, you will hurt me. I cannot allow that; my fate determines I must keep going. Now stay still and DIE"` *The jaw contorts and shifts into a rotating blade of teeth and knives, a makeshift chainsaw that attempts to saw into the god's leg. Edon was not pulling punches in the slightest. The glyph that represented the self-proclaimed king of gods seems to vanish, as though he had put the effort reserved for a future attack into dealing with this incoming assault.*

*The sigils grow in intensity once more, their shapes starting to resemble the deities. The initial bloom of individually launched attacks hovers in front of the glyphs. Edon has been studying them all along, understanding how they work so he can change them, using their own formations and strikes against them. He turns defensive manoeuvres into offensive strikes, twisting their tactics to represent the opposite intentions. Fire turns to ice, purity turns to impurity, and order turns to chaos.*

*The time is nigh for Edon to strike with everything he has, utilizing every ounce of accumulated power. He is already tearing himself apart to concentrate on such a display. While still attempting to grapple Pureman, his eyes burn brightly as the sigils finally shatter with the sound of broken glass, and chaos descends upon the tree. Pillars of blue flames erupt from the ground and branches, reminiscent of Abrielle's heatwave. The fire is cold to the touch, icing over the terrain and creating a thin layer of shifting icicles and spikes that vibrate and attempt to rip into any gods on the floor.*

*Threads run rampant from the glyph depicting TSU, hundreds of ever-splitting needles-thin points arcing towards the gods in an attempt to skewer their vision. They aim for the eyes, just as she had done to him. This is payback, personal payback. It's individualized wrath that Edon hopes will crush his foes. It has to work; there is no chance for a do-over. If this attack fails, he will have to play carefully and safely with little chance for retaliation.*

*More attacks follow as the swarm continues. The golden wall of Iona is replicated and fired upon her to shatter her resolve. It screams and groans as if it were living flesh, with tendrils and decaying hands reaching out to grab the newborn deity. Each one glows with a necrotic taint that signifies Edon's refusal to see her order through. The wall should shatter as it grows closer, becoming shrapnel that seeks every god. Rav'nixander is strangely omitted from this replication, as Edon purposefully ignores his movements and defence, choosing not to weaponize it.*

*Puremans glyph is breaking and falling apart. The fate god stands before him, rapidly evolving and adapting into a new form. This time, it's not just one head but many—a hideous amalgamation of every god there, a screaming mass of their own forms held together by crackling orange energy. It's the impure representation of each and every god, their fall from grace, their corrupted and decaying forms. Each one screams in dying agony, every voice a tormented soul, every cry a plea for help. Yet, even in the midst of such filth, Edon refrains from striking the deity before him and instead leaves his mind to decay under his influence.*

*The battlefield erupts into chaos, with each attack flying out simultaneously. The effects create a torrent of endless chaos—flashing strobes, screams, and sounds of despair. But the loudest scream of all is Edon's. He is tearing himself apart just to scrape by his vision blurred and seeing nothing but red in his rage and disgust.*

`"You are leeches. Filthy leeches... Don't you understand? Do you not feel what I feel? The thrashing in your mind, the clawing urge to end it, to rip yourself apart limb from limb, to feel the pain of a thousand cycles all at once. Well, now... You will witness my masterpiece. Witness it well, for I will not give you another performance like this again."`

*One final attack follows the display of a technicolour nightmare. A large sweeping beam fires from his tail, pulsating with a bright orange searing heat. A fully charged attack, the main one. The rest... They were something to worry about but not truly more than a scratch. This was the one he wanted them to feel. It was heading straight towards the fruits. Every. Fruit. The beam would vanish as a portal opens and redirects it another area, then again. And again... It was hard to keep track of where it was truly going until like a cluster it splits upon the twelfth or so teleport. Now seeking its mark. To inflict so much pain upon Gaia that the ensuing screams of their mother would drop them to their knees... He just hoped the distraction of everything else were enough to make it work.*

`"I'm sorry, Melancholia. I'm so sorry it has to be this way."` *A low whisper, potentially caught by the more observant deities. It would be exceedingly difficult to make it out during the explosions but there was always a chance.*

*Edon weakly flops onto Pureman. Hoping that his influence is enough to prevent this from going badly. There is a clear shrivelling pain in the deity. He had overexerted himself so much in such a short amount of time. The abominable body wrinkles and shrinks as though he cannot sustain even himself at the moment. A dark viscous fluid spews from his many mouth... This was bad for him. But if he was lucky, if he was just that TINY bit lucky. The other gods would fall in pain too...*
Kirk
Abrielle knew not whether to respond to the attacks crawling their way towards her or to the large beam. Floating off the ground and manifesting multiple eyes on her form, ignoring the pain she focused on the last one charging up, watching the beam split and split and, she believed in her fellow gods to focus their firepower upon Edon, splitting her own form into multiple fragments, an almost countless amount, each their own, small fragment of glowing energy zipped around.

Each moving, engulfing every fruit and bit of Gaia she could to lessen the pain, absorbing as many of the beams, even if not all of them, with her own energy, out of both love for her mother, and trust that this lessens the load on the rest of the gods and allow them to banish the serpent.. If you could call it that anymore.. As the beams clashed against her own divine energy both faded into obscurity, too much of her was destroyed in this attempt though- too much to upkeep any lasting fragments, as those that weren't affected simply disappeared, imploding in a very short display of a green flash, from an outside perspective, Gaia probably looked like a Christmas tree.
Richard
Xanthous saw it.

Despair. Panic.

It was Chaos.

And it needed Order.

As one of the more level-headed Gods, he roared, partially in pain and in anger. **"NO! IT WILL NOT END THIS WAY!"** A scream such as this pierced through the ears of every God, and even to the realms below. The dust and ash was dissipated, at least, temporarily. With a smoldering look, Xanthous flicked his hands, and small, condensed black dots of water appeared all over Gaia, all over the battlefield. "You fools, do you not see what he's doing?!" This would call the attention of most, showcasing Xanthous in a crown of brilliant white, foot being sawed by a nightmarish God. Xanthous clapped his hands together, and these specks would immediately dart every which way, expanding in size and avoiding the Gods, countering the flames of ice and such, as each of the pieces of black water were extremely hot.

Meanwhile, Xanthous made a roaring white flame explode from the under of his foot- the initial blast was the strongest, followed by a continuous spitting of flame, much like a flamethrower. This was an attempt to get Edon off him. "We must work together. TSU, Broom God, with me. We attack Edon." Xanthous said, looking at TSU and acknowledging Pureman. "Newborn," He said, referring to Iona. "Defend the fruits. Every other god, I advise you to do the same." He nodded towards Abrielle. "The one who dumbfounded Edon is already doing this. I recommend that if you fight with me, be mindful of your other Gods. This is not time to scream, this is time to fight. And we must fight well, we must fight together. Otherwise, if you damage your fellow Gods as we fight..."

Xanthous looked at each of the Gods in turn. He had finally come to a realization. "I will be alternating between fighting and defense. Do not question me, just move, move, *MOVE!*" Xanthous, the self-proclaimed King of the Gods, sent another large burst of white flame towards his foot. He would kill Edon, he'd make sure of it. Xanthous, as well, was in no way pulling his punches. Whether the last 'move' was directed towards the Gods or Edon, one could not tell. Safe to assume it was for both. It was high time for this fight to end.
Nu
"...You're so blinded with madness that you can't even see that which you are. What else could it be, other than fate, for me to have been born? For me to have avoided your maw? It is only natural that our mother would call for me - a goddess of Order and Control, to clean up this madness. I will not feast upon your dying screams as we rip you apart by your divinity, but I will remember them, brother. I will do that much for you" Iona responded in her usual calm tone as though explaining something simple to an unruly child.

With so many gods intervening into the fight, she couldn't help but feel a little agitated. She had thought before to charge in with her blade to cut the monster into two, but she saw now that she was correct in holding back. Getting close would be a death sentence. She almost didn't notice Edon's initial attack as a wave of heat washed up against her golden barrier, weakening it. Just because she couldn't get close didn't mean that she would sit and do nothing, however.

As she watched the wall of flesh coming right for her she realized what was happening. Edon was burning through his own divinity at an incredible rate to put up any semblance of resistance against the array of gods before him. If that was the case...

She held a hand out, strengthening the barrier before her as she decided to tear into her own reserves at an expedited rate. What was important here was making sure that justice was serve and the monster taken care of. If she died making sure that it happened... So be it. The wall swelled in size and shot forward, more like a golden wave of energy than the wall it had been before as it crashed into the grotesque wall of flesh.

The wall exploded on impact, sending shrapnel flying everywhere. Iona stood unflinching even as she felt the necrotic energy filling the limbs and tendrils that still clung to her, attempting to tear into her body. She paid them no mind for now. There was something much more important to take care of. She flipped a mental switch in her mind, letting the rage that she had been **Controlling** For this entire time come to the forefront.

"This... This is why I was born! I'll make sure you are chained like the animal you are, and brought to justice!" She suddenly screamed out, her mood shifting in just a moment as she gave in to pure rage as her voice echoed across the upper branches. The air started to shimmer around her, and moments later dozens of golden chains shot out from the ripples in the air. Each rocketed towards Edon, attempting to bind him in place and prevent his divinity from completely burning out. Even if all that was left were scraps, she intended to hold it in place.

Her eyes flickered to Edon's last, greatest attack, for just a moment before pressing on. It was nothing but a distraction. It was too late to change course now for her.
Stanton
*There was still no attacks from Rav'nixander; The crystal refused to anything but defend the fruits through crystalline constructs, because in doing so was the greatest refutation of Edon's claims of changing the nature of gods into bloodthirst. Seeing an attempt to illusion a mockery of itself in the amalgam was ineffective, both because Rav is a crystal and thus didn't care about intimidation and also because Rav is a crystal and lacked a face to put on that construct. As the sweeping beam begins, Rav moves quickly to reinforce the barricades formed by Abrielle using crystalline essence.*

"I accept that my proposed ritual of binding has no further votes. Therefore I second the proposed ritual of sundering."

*A link in the weave...*

"Be forewarned. Should this ritual commence. I suspect Edon will attempt to add a twist. Please harden your forms before we commence. To prevent embedding."
Gordon
Haventar stood silently amidst the unrelenting mayhem around him, watching the scene unfold with a keen fascination. Hearing the many different speeches and retorts and counterarguments and assertions was like radio static, he only saw the movement, the dancing lights of divine power and the recoiling of the twisted serpent god. And then Haventar took notice of what Edon had done, the beams of attack jetting through portals and around barriers in desperate attempts to harm unborn gods. The exceedingly calm Haventar stood silent still, but his anger bubble and boil beneath the surface. Not only once had this plague of Gaia decided his desires encompassed the unborn, but he now intended to do it again. Haventar had reached his limit, a harsh wind blowing outwardly from his person and swirling in a violent manner.

**"BETRAYER OF YOUR FLESH!"** Haventar's angered and choked voice called out through the cacophony. **"You are no child of Gaia, you diseased and rotted beast!"** He raised both hands and faced them outwards, not to Edon, but to the fruits of the World Tree. He flicked his hands to the sides in rapid succession, forming walls made of the same black fire as his attack had been. To the touch, this black fire was solid, though it danced and glided ferociously, to give the impression of danger. The walls went for hundreds of feet long, lacing swiftly through each branch that held a fruit and between the narrow passageways that cunning beams would path find through. Haventar had never exerted such a force before, until now he had not truly expressed his divinity all that much. Haventar began to feel a tinge of fatigue, though it was not yet an annoyance or a threat to his constitution.

Even with how quickly Haventar acted, he could not defend all the fruits on their branches. Beams closer to fruits than he was reached them and destroyed them outright, a sudden jolt of sickness washing over Haventar each time one was lost. Despite this nauseous and sickened feeling, he persisted and continued to channel his strength into the defenses he had summoned, blocking the beams for as long as they could withstand an interruption in their path. When these attacks did eventually falter and crash into the walls of black flame, they weakened the area of wall they collided with, causing the saturation of the fire to diminish and fade slightly. In the short term, the barricades could reasonably stand up to the barrage of attacks, but should they persist for a long time they would surely fall and cause the entire structure to crumble.