"I volunteer." Ataxia raised his hand. "I can be part of The Survivor Gods." All the Gods and Humans looked toward him. Ataxia had just volunteered to become part of a search party to look for 'The Guardians', the people who were prophesied going to save everyone from Chaos.
"Any other daring individuals willing to volunteer?" Quinchitell asked. None of the others raised their hands for volunteering. "No volunteers?" Quinchitell looked around the room of Gods and Humans.
"If no one else volunteers, I will pick two at random," Quinchitell said in an upbeat tone, but it came off more as a threat. The Gods and Humans looked around at the others in the room, none of them wanting to volunteer, but hoping someone else would. "No one? Guess I'm picking two random people then." Just as he was about to pick someone a brave volunteer spoke up. It was the God of weather, Po-Tah.
"I volunteer," he said, raising one of their four pale white hands. The now three members of 'The Survivor Gods' gathered in the center of the room. After some time, no one else volunteered to join the team, so Quinchitell sought out one more to pick at random.
Qinchitell let his gaze wander around the many Gods and Humans in the room, though his gaze kept landing on the Goddess of Knowledge, Marythiya.
"Marythiya, Goddess of Knowledge, you will be the final member of The Survivor Gods." Quinchitell pointed to Marythiya, the people right next to her scooting aside in different directions, leaving Marythiya in plain view of Quinchitell's sight.
Marythiya was in visible shock from being picked, her eyes widening as her name was called out by Quinchitell. She reluctantly and shakily came forth, joining the three others in the circle, now becoming an official member of The Survivor Gods.
With a quick goodbye and a wish for good luck the five members of the Survivor Gods left the bunker, emerging onto the desert earth. The four set off, hoping to find any of The Guardians. The four went across the barren land that Chaos had polluted with his tyranny. Traversing Chaoctin was less than ideal due to the harsh conditions.
Trees were a rare sight to see in the post apocalyptic wasteland. High winds blew dust across the world, and not one place in Chaoctin was safe from terrifying and brutal weather. The Survivor Gods had put on masks and goggles to protect themselves from the dusty winds.
It was nearly impossible to see your own feet in front of you, thanks to the dust storm that was raging. Despite the conditions being possibly fatal, they had no choice but to push on past the storm, so on they went, trudging through the high winds slowly. Every two steps they'd be pushed back one, slowing their progress significantly.
Eventually, despite the hardships of the monstrous storm The Survivor Gods saw a small settlement in the distance. The oddly welcoming and small settlement took the form of a village, a few houses spread in a circular fashion with an extravagant and grand circus tent in the middle. The tent had brightly glowing lanterns floating in the air. Accompanying these magical lanterns was the sound of trumpets and accordions, setting a whimsical and joyful mood.
The Survivor Gods approached the curious town, wondering greatly about the circus tent and floating lanterns. As the group inched closer the sound emanating from the circus tent grew louder and clearer, though still muffled by the tent that concealed its origin. The Survivor Gods located the entrance to the tent, curiously peeking inside, hoping to see what all the commotion was about. Just as they were about to enter the tent, a raspy voice rang out from behind them.
"Hello, do you happen to be the Gods of this wretched hell scape?" The Gods jolted from the sudden and foreign sound, quickly turning to see the person who spoke. The man had a porcelain mask tinted light blue, with cracks and chips all over its blank surface. The man was also wearing a matching poncho stained with blood, though it was unclear who's blood it was.
"Y-yes, who's asking?" Po-Tah said, glancing among the four others in the group.
"Who I am does not matter at this time, for it's my goal that matters." The man spoke ominously, putting one hand into his poncho pocket. The Survivor Gods all looked curiously and suspiciously at his poncho, wondering what he'd unveil. The man slowly took out what appeared to be a compass with an orange arrow and blue tinted glass.
"What in Chaos' name is that?" Ataxia said with a derogatory undertone.
"This," the man said, handing it over to them, "is a compass pointing to the nearest Guardian." The Gods accepted the compass hesitantly, unsure of his intentions.
"Wait, how do you know about the G-" Quinchitell was cut off when he noticed the sudden disappearance of the man, looking around he was nowhere to be seen, but the pale orange arrow pointed directly into the tent, showing the location of the first Guardian.
YOU ARE READING
Great Wyrm Chronicles: Giganton
FantasyA Gigaton named Chaos has enslaved the world, commanding it with all his power and strength for millions of years. That is, until the Gods he created betrayed him, rebelling, fighting to take back the freedom that they had been promised. Will the Go...
