A Desparate God
They say they love me. Hell, half of them scream they love me, while the other half are afraid of me and call it love.
I guess I deserve it; I have done a lot for them. I vanquished the Leviathan. That was before my I had the Host to serve me, so the battle nearly killed me. Anything to keep them safe from them. But that was so long ago, I doubt they truly remember how they huddled in fear inside their caves from those monsters.
I even fought My family to keep them safe. With Amun Ra calling for blood sacrifices and Zeus not keeping it in his pants, how could I stand by? They were My children. I had promised to keep them safe across time and space. My Hosts and I fought and killed so many so that my children could be free.
I did lose my temper occasionally. Making them roam around blindly for decades or suffer for breaking a code of law as complex as cracks in glass. But I feel like I atoned for that with My Son.
But now I walk the streets of their world — even though We spent Our time, Our power, and Our lives to build it and shape it for them. Once they stood proud and fought their own fights; all I had to do was strengthen their hand and believe in them. Now, they want Me to fight all their battles for them. They huddle in fear behind their screens; praying to me to save them while they also tell each other I’m not real or gone. Or dead.
There is no one left but Me now. I just can’t save them all any more. There were thousand of the Elohim once; some left, others faded away to nothing. Orúnmila, with his gifts, saw the course of His children and the world and left it to run it course. I have not heard from Him since edges of the world were joined through exploration. The Jade Emperor committed seppuku when his children reached one billion — how could he protect them from themselves at that number?
I am alone now, and there is nothing I can do but watch my children scurry and die. The man, Samuel, behind the gun counter took the last of my money and smiled when he handed me the gun and ammunition.