Pan-aeons: a God Game

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen, 34/50 AP - Grawpolis

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself mighty Grawissen.” king Ostrom asked, as he sipped his wine around the dinner table. “I also see that you got a little bit… Creative…”

Attempted to be polite and eat some of the stuff off the table, unfortunately, all of it just fell through his rib cage. “Yes... I hope they will help... the wilderness pursuit of knowledge…”

The King then lifted himself off his chair. He walked to the window still holding his wine. “I understand you know our situation…” the King stared at one of The Al-Sinai’s flags flying outside. “We did not want to get to this point, we were once a free kingdom but now we can only grovel towards the Al-Sinai.”

Graw stopped gulping down the food. “How much of they been affecting your research?”

The king simply shook his head “You seem to have caught on with the errors. To the Al-Sinai facts can take a backsea...”

Just then a divine visitor came teleporting in, interrupting the conversation.

Somewhere only the gods know:
"Looks like they don't consider you the culprit." Petra floats over to Grawissen, her face twisted in an angry scowl. "I have half a mind to go down there and inform them of your culpability. What were you thinking? Sanctuary is meant to be a place where the mortals can focus only on growing and learning in peace and harmony.

“Petr? What is wrong? Culprit of what? You mean the Ceratopsian they would anythi...

Petr then threw down the corpse of The Terror that was killed by a coconut. “what in the world?

...The curse may have been from Alatadriel, but I hold you responsible for your haphazard scattering of them around the globe."

“Alatadriel?” Graw then scanned the corpse, he noticed the extreme burning rage in them, a burning completely identical to Alatadriel. “...is this what she did... She turned them into…

She exhales deeply, conjuring up a small flower to hand to Grawissen. A small bloom of a brilliant bluebell, nestled safely in a clod of wet earth."Mortals are such... sweet fragile things. We can't be haphazard when we deal with them. Else, they might break. Just like how this flower will wilt and wither without a hand to tend to it. I won't tell the mortals what you did. At least if you can show me you have learned a lesson. I shall see you around. I have a lot of work to attend to."

After Petr the room became quiet. Then the ground started to shake. “Alatadriel… Graw mumbled as the room continued to shake, becoming more and more powerful by the second. Graw then raised his pickax to the air. “ALATADRIEL!” he screamed as he slammed the pickax down. A massive pillar of rock shot upwards launching Graw into the sky and out of sight.

The King simply stood there trying his best to keep his composure. ”Okay… We’ll talk about this later.”