Clit was the first to move, his eyes fixed on the Mitsukai-shingu of the god of fire, a hungry glint in them. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, before walking toward it.
"Alright." Axle said, a quiet authority in his voice.
"Let's get on with it." He directed his gaze to the group, a serious edge to his usual smirk.
"Remember this."
"You should pick the one that you feel would suit you best."
"It may very well be the one you're stuck with till death."
Wolf stood, hesitating for a moment, his gaze shifting between the altars. He then made his choice, a solemn walk to the altar of the god of water.
Bane followed, a flash of determination in his eyes, and chose the god of wind.
The boy in the scarf, a silent specter, picked one of the gods of space while Shimon, ever the intellectual, picked the other.
Jorel thought for a moment, a storm of calculations in his mind, before walking towards the god of sound.
Feels like the best choice.
