That’s what they claimed them to be. 

But God-in-training was more accurate. 

They were in a hall with 100 other people – give or take. They remember nothing of before they arrived here, maybe they didn’t want to, maybe they did. But all she remembers was that they were brought into a purple room and was told they were here to be a God. 

They felt special because they were going to be a God. 

Until they realized it was a competition – a fight to become the next God. 

And she would have been fine; she would have been able to take down whoever she needed to become someone – something of importance. 

Until she met her. 

She was gorgeous – bright green eyes with long brown hair that was often in a braid, cascading down her back. A smile that was consistent on her face and her heart bigger than any of the fuckers there who wanted to be The God. She truly did try to be kind to everyone and they were kind to her when Tests were not being put in place.

Ah yes, Tests. 

She hated Tests – most people did. It pitted them against each other. Something that made living together hard, harder than it ought to be. Then, the next day they did team building and made the Gods think they would be working together – until they weren’t. 

Until they had knives against their necks, ending lives, sending them to the Room. 

Once you were there you couldn’t come back for a few weeks. When you came back, you were a little bit different than before. 

She feared that more than anything, but did she really have anything else to fear? She had been told she was a God with the potential to become The God. She couldn’t – or wouldn’t – remember anything before she was here. But it didn’t make any sense; how was she in her older body? Was she born or proofed into existence? Did she ever really exist? 

Or worse, was she being lied to? Where was she from? 

These questions plagued her. 

“Marsh,” called a voice, “They need to speak to you.”

She turned her head, nodding, “When?”


“Alright,” she sighed, “I’ll see you later.”

They nodded, before turning and stepping quickly away to avoid something – perhaps guilt? 

No, that seems unlikely. 

So she walked quickly, after all, one did not make them wait. They weren’t the most patient beings, despite what they’re favorites tended to say. Marsh was one of the favorites but only because she had never died – but it was only a matter of time. Life was an illusion and the only certain thing was death. 

Death – oh how she craved to know how it felt. She wanted to feel the rush of having her own blood pouring out of her body, to feel the life leaving her body, only to be sucked back in, and to feel the sweet release of death. 

Who knows how long she’s lived. 

Pulling her black hair out of her pony tail, quickly combing through it in an attempt to calm herself, and look respectable as possible after she had finished her workout for the day. 

She knocked. 

“Come in, Marsh.”

Marsh took a deep breath, opening the door. Inside the room, the familiar mask was worn upon a less than average height woman, she thinks, she honestly can’t tell what their gender, sex whatever it’s called is but she couldn’t care less, after all, they were still as shitty no matter their gender. 

They never spoke of it. 

Anyways, she asked if she could sit down as softly as possible as to not anger them, they obliged her and told her to sit – she did. 

She was nervous but not in the way you would think. You would think she would be nervous because of the pure unkindness in their eyes, but it was purely for the words they spoke. 

“You’ve been selected for a meeting with the high council.”

Marsh’s eyes widened, “But why, if you don’t mind me asking.”

The gaze hardened, “You shouldn’t ask such things. Be grateful you’re allowed to see them.”

She nodded, “Yes, mx.”

They nodded, “Good. You will report to the office tonight.”