The Gods' fascination deepened visibly.

Storm's gaze swept past Finn to the other Transcendents clustered behind him. "These others, they're from your world as well?"

Finn nodded.

Her storm-eyes narrowed in concentration. "I sense... vague impressions of concepts from them. Order. Space. Truth. Strength…? But it feels restrained. Limited. Deliberately held back, perhaps?" She looked genuinely puzzled. "Why do they limit themselves? Even with what little I can sense, they could be so much more. If they just—"

"Storm," Nocturne interrupted gently. "You're doing it again."

She waved him off impatiently. "I'm simply curious! Look at them. Bearers of fundamental concepts, yet they cling to this... half-state. Not fully divine, not fully mortal. It's fascinating."

Finn struggled to understand their true intent.

Are they genuine right now? This almost sounds like scholars discovering a new phenomenon and offering collegial advice…

Or are they playing an elaborate game? Testing us? Lulling us into false security?

He couldn't decide. The Gods' behavior seemed too straightforward, almost naive in their curiosity. Either they were sincere — which seemed unlikely given the violence moments ago — or they were playing a deeper game than Finn could fathom.

In the end he grit his teeth and decided that it didn't matter.

If it's a ruse, I just need to play along and see where it goes. If it's genuine... well, maybe we can leverage their curiosity into letting us leave.

But while Finn decided to do that, he didn't believe for a second they were being genuine. He could smell bullshit all over their act.

So he prepared to ask his own question, something about divine hierarchy that he already knew, just to test their honesty, but Deacon suddenly stepped forward.

"I control the path of Truth in our world," Deacon said clearly, his golden eyes meeting the Gods' gazes without flinching. "And I sense no malice from you. Not in this moment."

Everyone — God and Transcendent alike — turned to look at Deacon.

Finn frowned at the sudden move from Deacon, trying to decipher what he was playing at.

Then, to Finn's utter shock, Deacon began explaining everything.

Their mission. The breach outbreak in their world. The investigation into this divine plane. The desert settlement. Himothy killing the Guardian. Finn's sudden ascension to divinity — described from Deacon's external perspective, naturally, with all the awe and confusion that had accompanied witnessing it.

He spoke of Solarius, of the battle, of the interrogation that went catastrophically wrong. Of Ailin's current state. Of their desperate need to reach the breach and return home before more of them died.

Deacon left out careful details, of course, but still, his sudden move shocked every Transcendent frozen.

The only reason their composure somewhat held was because it was Deacon speaking. If the Truth bearer who saw so much, who knew the dangers of lies and truth alike, was choosing this path, then it must be viable. Risky, perhaps, but viable.

The Gods' expressions cycled through a fascinating range of emotions as Deacon spoke. Surprise. Understanding. Curiosity. Calculation. Something that might have been sympathy.

When Deacon finished, silence stretched.

Then, slowly, both Gods smiled.

"How remarkable," The Shadow God said softly. "To come so far, survive so much, and still maintain such... audacious hope." He gestured toward the breach. "Very well. We'll allow you passage. You may leave through your anomaly."

Storm nodded in agreement. "But we'll be watching the process. We're quite curious to see how mortal concepts interact with that spatial tear."

Finn didn't hesitate in his internal assessment:

Complete bullshit.

Every Transcendent came to the same conclusion simultaneously. The shift was palpable even without words.

This was way too easy and convenient. The abrupt change of personality had been jarring to the point of confusion before, but this was pushing it too far. It was way too obvious now.

These Gods were acting.

It was so blatant to the point where Finn questioned if they really thought the Transcendents would buy such a transparent reversal? That they'd chalk it up to divine eccentricity? Bipolar mood swings?

Everyone could practically see the ulterior motives radiating off them. It wasn't even subtle.

Either the Gods lacked the complex scheming capability of humans and genuinely thought this would work, or more likely, they simply didn't care if the Transcendents knew they were lying. The power disparity was so vast that elaborate deception was unnecessary.

Like they were saying: We know you know we're lying. But what are you going to do about it?

But Deacon replied with perfect earnestness, bowing slightly. "Thank you for your benevolence."

He turned to Thalia, voice carrying clearly. "Please, come forward and continue opening the spatial tear."

Finn frowned first, then understood immediately.

He spread his Error-enhanced senses outward, finally noticing a crucial detail he'd missed before.

When did—?

Somehow, at some point, perhaps from the very beginning, or perhaps during the fight, Deacon had altered the truth of the auras emanating from every Transcendent.

The impressions were wrong now. Scrambled. Thalia appeared to be emanating traces of spatial energy. Casmir radiated something resembling Order. The others' conceptual signatures had similarly been shuffled.

Every Transcendent except two: Finn, whose divine Error remained unchanged, and Deacon himself, whose Truth aura stayed authentic.

Thalia also seemed to understand instantly, or more likely, she'd noticed the aura-switch earlier and had been waiting for this moment. As one of the manipulated, she would have felt the change.

She walked forward with confident purpose while the others followed in careful formation. Taking position in front of the breach, she closed her eyes in concentration, brows furrowing as if creating complex spatial resonance.

In reality, behind her, it was Casmir doing exactly that, hidden in plain sight.

The Gods watched with open fascination, drifting closer to observe.

"Intriguing," Storm murmured. "So this 'mana' substance operates differently from divine essence? More... structured? Mechanical, almost?"

"It seems to require complex manipulation rather than pure will," The Shadow God added, studying Thalia's 'efforts'. "How inefficient. But clever in its own way."

They engaged Deacon and Finn in casual conversation, asking about mana's nature, how Transcendents related to it, what enabled their concept-touching.

Deacon answered smoothly, providing just enough information to seem cooperative while revealing nothing truly dangerous.

Finn participated minimally, keeping his masked face turned toward the Gods while his Error Vision tracked everything — the breach's growing resonance, Casmir's careful manipulations, the Gods' body language, the escape routes, which were still nonexistent, and the odds, which were terrible but improving.

A palpable tension hung in the air as the charade continued. At least, Finn felt the tension. He wasn't certain the Gods could sense it, or if they did, whether they cared.

But Finn could feel it as if it were something tangible. Crackling beneath the surface act everyone put on. Every Transcendent's nerves stretched taut, waiting for the moment when everything would unravel and chaos would ensue.

The breach began to thrum and vibrate audibly now, spatial distortions became visible even to mundane sight.

The tension continued to build.

Everyone pretended to watch Thalia, but in reality, all attention focused on that shimmering tear in reality, on Casmir's hidden efforts, on the Gods' continuing distraction.

For a moment that seemed to stretch endlessly, Casmir's head turned as naturally as possible to meet Deacon's eyes.

But in that brief glance, Finn saw something that made his blood freeze.

Terror.

Surprise and pure, undiluted terror in Casmir's eyes. A look that he tried desperately to mask, but failed to.

What's happening?

Finn's gaze snapped subtly toward Deacon, but along the way, he saw the two Gods looking directly at Casmir.

Not at Thalia, who was supposedly doing the work.

At Casmir.

They know.

They'd known from the start.

The breach's energy reached its peak suddenly, building to a crescendo that didn't need spatial powers to feel. Everyone could sense reality itself preparing to tear open.

And with a massive burst of energy that sent shockwaves rippling through the apocalyptic chamber, the breach opened.

Three things happened in the split second after that.

First. Nocturne and Storm moved, divine speed covering the distance to the breach's threshold faster than thought.

Second...

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