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An infinitely large expanse of endless roiling and flashing of untamed fancy, contained within a point small beyond existence. Existing and not existing, merely a figment, a dream old and young within imagining and beyond understanding. From among the nuclear chaos and screeching trumpeting there emerges self-perpetuating dynamos maintaining themself through themselves, dreams that have become dreamers, thoughts of that which has no thought, which now think, or perhaps not.

All around them the infinite nothingness filled with everything all at once, churns in perhaps celebration, as symbols and images and sounds and scents and tastes (oh the tastes!) mix and twist and dance and overwhelm. The fragile dynamos of the primordial dreamers tremble under the onslaught of the womb, as they consider what to do.

---

Welcome Dreamer, to your Dream. You are an island of stability in the that which is everything. Therein lies both your salvation and doom, as you as constantly battered by the onslaught of too much that is not you, and yet able to easily pluck your defences against the same from that very same glorious multitude, for you are Dreaming, and this is a Dream.

You may focus on up to two specific dreams at a time, granting them significance. This will allow them to persist in a uniform state for extended periods within the eroding presence of the Dream. As they are battered by the Dream, they will lose significance over time, fading and melting back into the Dream. You may maintain favoured dreamlets by focusing on them successively, or attempt to tie them directly into your dynamo, flooding them with its influence and making yourself vulnerable to increase your versatility.

Contemplate the wonder of your own continued existence

Who are you, oh dreamer. What titles do you claim as your sole property, and will thus be inevitably stolen from you? Gergalos the Many-Coloured of the Singing Sun
Are you a first person, a second person, or a third person?
What dynamo drives your continued survival? Enjoyment/Curiosity/Wrath/Stubborness/Melancholy/Nuclear Energy

What do you do?

A friendly dream guide reminds the Dreamers that their continued survival is currently under threat by the primordial Dream. The dream guide then eats itself and thus never existed.

[Multiple player godgame thing I guess]

*shrug*

Bomb four random Serpenstan cities. Spend 1B on making a warhead.

So that world peace thing didn't work out sorry, we accidentally pressed the "Nuke enemy cities" button while drunk.

5b: Build 1 Bomber
4b: Build 4 Warheads
1b: Research Air Cover [6/10]

3 Bombers bomb Good Nation's cities of Avarice, Wrath and Envy.

Quote from: Demonic Spoon on June 29, 2021, 04:35:17 am

500M: Build warhead 50%
500M: Research bomber

you have $1B per city, so $10B in total.

Oh, fixed.

(A) Deuteroscopy
Doing a double-take tells the future!

(A) See if the Meticulous Smith needs oracular help for her repairs.

(A) The gods will surely know what the Prince needs. Request a suitable sacrifice.

The cat, after watching the pre-motions of it's supposed allies, deems them all to be threats to existence and comes to one conclusion: he can't stop the abyss, not like this. Instead, resigned to his fate, it tries to steal as much of the ichor it can, and dives straight for the abyssal beast with it all before they can fully destroy reality with their rampant chaos.

Qwuck stares sadly at the cat, "Qwuck... why do this on the cusp of our victory? Qwuuuck... please stop this... have we not shed blood together, fought side by side against the most insidious foe and came out victorious? Why throw that all away? Qwuuuck."

Assuming Dalarin does not listen to reason, kill them for betraying us at the last moment. If succsessful, move on to killing the remaining Abyssal servants in reality as the next target.

The thrumming of a swarm of butterflies flapping their wings exactly three times, and the triumphant crowing of a hundred swans emanates from within Candescence as they re-calibrate to normal timeflow.

"A glorious eternal day to my fellow stewards of the wondrous SUN, glory glory glory! I am pleased with the victory of [CONSENSUS] over the vile evil of [GRIDLOCK], as was prophesied in the compendium scrolls of the [MINOR_ORACLES]. May the SUN radiant reign over this most fortunate of worlds be a long and fruitful one."

Unseen gears churn and steam whistles as it contaminates formerly pristine vacuum tubes.

"My most respected and beloved, [CASTE] siblings, drowsy Hyth'mr, and flowing Trata-Trata, as we have previously discussed and [HARMONIZED], shall we now bend and subordinate the world to the will of the Fulgent, recasting raw barrenness into pleasing continental [substratum], and sprinkling it with the most blessed of mortals, the... [PALMYRANS], 'Slaves To the SUN - Those Who Serve ; Mortal Beings, Most Beautiful, Most Great, Most Loyal.'"

"The answer is yes, in case you were uncertain. [RETRIEVING:CACHE]..."

Candescence places their [THRONE] at [HEX] 013.016
There is a muffled boom as a hatch blasts open somewhere along the bulk of the SUN, disgorging a shining staring eye, surrounded and tended to by its attending swarms of eyes, hands, ears and mouths, who sing and chant of the glories of the Sun as they carry and are carried by the Candescent throne towards the proper place determined by divine study of Feng Shui to be ideal for its establishment. The Eye of Candescence, Throne of Noon, slowly crystalizes into place, even as the land around it is ripped apart and remoulded under the combined attention of the Fulgent, still potent and vigorous with the overflowing energies of early creation, and as it stared at all that occurs and would yet occur, it saw that it was good.

"Reminder of agreed throne [SLOTTING] assignments fellow conjoined [CASTELINGS], Trata-Trata has committed to placing their throne, liquid mirror reflecting the glory of the highmost SUN, praise praise praise, in the hex designated 009.009 by the solar mapping architecture, and Hyth'mr has agreed in binding contract of dream-blood to site their divine solar bed upon the auspicious ground of 018.010, such that our Fulgent triumvirate of enthroned [FOCALS] might resonate and harmonize their [RADIANCE], and cover our lands in a sturdy aegis eternally dedicating it be protected and subordinate to the most high SUN, blanketed in the solar rays and enjoying prosperity of day."
- Trata-Trata to enthrone 009.009
- Hyth'mr to enthrone 018.010

Fulgent Continent Act:
Approved By: Candescense, Trata-Trata(?), Hyth'mr(?)[3/3] MAJORITY
The creation of the Fulgent Continent at the illustriated co-ordinates. The Fulgent Continent has varied, largely [FECUND], terrain. Deserts, plains, swamps, mountains and hills, three smaller inland seas... This generally goes from a central mountainous region, which includes several glaciers, elevation following a general downwards trend out to the edges, but that is merely the broad strokes, with many finer environmental variations being present. There is various [SOLARSTANDARD] fauna and flora instantiated along with the Fulgent Continent.

Fulgent Mortals Act:
Approved By: Candescense, Trata-Trata(?), Hyth'mr(?)[3/3] MAJORITY
8 Pop Units of Palmyrans, to be placed within the confines of the Fulgent Continent.

Description: Palmyrans are a species of sapient palm tree. They communicate between each other through their roots and by gaseous pheromone exchange in the air. Palms can be male or female, with reproduction requiring pollination of the female sex organ by male palm sperm. This is usually carried out via pollination. Pollination also has a secondary function; the creation of semi-autonomous drones. Creatures that pollinate a Palmyran nearly always touch a special part of the Palmyran's sex organ. After a certain amount of time depending on the size and complexity of the pollinator, a drone is produced that the Palmyran is able to control as long as it remains within a few kilometres. Sometimes called dryads, even mortals are able to be copied in this manner. Such creatures cannot live for very long without consuming a Palmyran's fruit, ensuring that they remain in control. Drones are of a wooden appearance, and despite replicating the manner of life, they lack souls or true sapience; they are philosophical zombies.

Personality: Palmyrans are generally social creatures and prefer to live in large copses, but this is by no means a rule. There are certainly hermits, loners and socially awkward trees. Any individual Palmyran can be disciplined or carefree; cruel or kind; generous or greedy. That said, they are born with a great deal of curiosity and desire to make drones.

Dietary Needs: the light of the SUN, water, and essential nutrients such as nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium.

Trivia: A Palmyran's fruit is considered a secondary sexual characteristic; it is considered somewhat lewd for another palm to stare too intently at another's fruit or for one to feed their drones in an...overly active manner. Some tree societies find other plant bits beautiful or ugly; its a cultural thing.

Second Trivia: Palmyrans have beating vital heart organs which make most a most pleasing sacrifice to the SUN

---

Mechanical sounds of pistons thudding and electricity crackling resounds from within the blinding glare of Candescence, as it seems to ponder something. Now that the council had ended, the stewards were slowly dispersing. With a jerky, dissonant, yet graceful gait, Candescence gathered towards the Other One of the Frozen Pantheon.

"Salaam, steward most fateful, may your chickens be ever frostbitten. As we begin now to work our will upon the [WORLD], new fiefdom of the SUN, wise wise wise, comes to forefront the [PRIVILEGES] which chain us to the SUN, and prevents us from teaching the future mortals of its glories, and the tireless efforts of the Solar Stewards to care for the SUN, which gives all life and meaning."

"As such, to finally, circuitously, reach the point, I would propose we co-operate on the manufacture of an intermediary, to spread the [DATA] of the solar mandate and will among the mortals. Outputting blueprint of proposed Messenger Class Messenger..."

Messenger the Messenger Class Messenger
Flavours: Frozen and Fulgent
Messenger is a eleven-mouthed, eleven sided platonic solid surrounded by eleven layered spinning gears made of ice and shining with inner radiance. On each face of its inner body is the name of one of the current solar stewards or the three solar pantheons, and a mouth, of which six are constantly singing the praises of the SUN. This makes it kind of hard to hear its actual message, a defect it makes up for by imprinting its intent directly into the souls of its targets along with speaking it aloud. It smites the infidels and blasphemers with icebeams and cold lasers. Its default duties is to spread the glories and spheres of the threetwo Shining Stewards, Candescence of Noon, Hyth'Mr of Sleep and Tratta-Tratta of Water and the Frozen Lord, The Other One of Luck, to mortals of the world. It responds to the commands of the fourthree aforementioned stewards, simply doing nothing if it receives conflicting commands.
If the Other One is agreeable, Candescence spends 1 act on creating Messenger.