VOIDSY: Last strategy thing to get out of the way immediately- what’s up with the syringes?
He groans and puts his head in his hands.
WAX: It's some kind of horrible item that Spit came up with.
WAX: it’s a syringe that can extract godhood, but can only work on and be used by the god it's bound to.
WAX: not only that, but it’s only in the metaphysical player space, so…..
WAX: it’s useless. it’s absolutely useless but triggers autobalance anyway.
WAX: my best guess is that someone told Spit about these kind of strategies ages ago, so she figured she could get me in the game and on her side as fast as possible.
WAX: on the one hand, that means she thinks you’re a threat. congrats.
WAX: on the other, I’m stuck working with the person I loathe most.
He visibly droops, dropping his hands to his sides.
WAX: to say I’m having a bad day would be the understatement of the millenia.
VOIDSY: If it helps at all- thank you for making us, and this world. We’re grateful.
He laughs, a weird grainy sound.
WAX: oh no, I didn’t make either of those things.
WAX: I made this plane. I made its rules, and I set up how it works.
WAX: I can change these things, but I usually don’t- it causes too many shakeups.
WAX: you were the initial creator of this session’s world, being the first one in.
WAX: the other gods helped shape it as well. I have done nothing but make my own base. I don’t touch the world itself outside of that.
WAX: as for yourself, you…walked in.
WAX: I don’t entirely understand how it works myself, but collective consciousnesses from other worlds can join games just like our gods can.
WAX: I allow you to play because, well,
WAX: if you can win against our most violent gods, maybe you’ll be able to help our broken world heal.
WAX: and if you don’t, you’ll be spared from living in it.
There’s an awkward silence.
VOIDSY: …No offense, but you look like you could use some sleep.
VOIDSY: Are you feeling okay?