Deimos materialized in Jack's cluttered apartment, his shadowy form flickering with an almost regal aura. His voice, deep and commanding, began to speak about his creation with unmistakable pride and a touch of condescension.
"Behold, the culmination of my knowledge. My masterpiece. A nightmare so profound, so exquisitely terrifying, that no mortal, no god, has ever conceived of its like. This will be the stuff of legends, whispered in the dark for eternity. My work will reshape the very fabric of fear itself."
(Stay calm, Jack, he told himself, though his body was tense and trembling. Don't let him see how scared you really are.)
Before he could continue, Jack, visibly tense and trembling, hurried to interrupt. "Wait, Deimos. Where's the description? The pictures? You can't just tell people to imagine what the game is. They need visuals, details, they need to know what they're in for."
Deimos's eyes flashed with disdain as he glared at the mortal. "Silence, puny mortal. I don't need lengthy descriptions or pictures to make a nightmare. I see it must be that my genius is simply beyond your comprehension. Lengthy descriptions, pictures, those are trivialities for lesser beings. My divine craft transcends such mortal limitations. I create nightmares that are felt in the very marrow of existence; visuals are irrelevant."
"Pointless?" Jack's voice wavered, eyes darting nervously, yet managed to speak. "You do realize that descriptions and images help draw people in, right? Plus, you could create a picture in like a minute if you…."
Deimos snorted, a sound like distant thunder, a cruel smile curling his lips. "A minute? Ha! You mortals are so naive. There's no way to craft a truly divine image in such a fleeting time. My divine vision is far beyond your feeble human efforts. I am the architect of chaos; perfection takes time, patience, something you'll never understand."
(He's so arrogant, Jack thought desperately, eyes darting around the room.)
While Deimos boasted, Jack nervously picked up his controller, creeping forward despite the divine arrogance filling the room. He hesitated before starting the game, heart pounding. The first jump scare hit him with brutal force, making him let out a sharp cry. His body jerked from the shock, heart pounding wildly in his chest.
(Okay, okay, just breathe, Jack told himself, forcing his trembling fingers to move. Get through this. Just get through this.)
But as the game continued, gradually, Jack's breathing steadied, as he forced himself to keep playing. The game's relentless jump scares became almost mechanical. His initial fear dulled into a numbing tension. When the scene finally faded to black, leaving only a blank screen, Jack hesitated, then spoke, voice quieter now, tinged with a strange mixture of awe and scepticism.
"Yeah… it's definitely terrifying," he admitted slowly. "But… after a while, it kind of loses its power. The scares don't really mean anything if there's no story or goal. It's just… shock value. Honestly, this 'masterpiece' feels kind of empty. There's no real gameplay, no depth. Just a bunch of jump scares."
Deimos's silence was thick with disdain. Inside, he felt the stirrings of fury, the mortal's dismissiveness was an insult to his divine art. Yet, beneath the rage, he sensed something else, two irrelevant mortals have dismissed his masterpiece so far, what if more dare to mark it as Waste… He would not have it…
(Wait a minute, Jack thought, eyes narrowing slightly. Why not use his arrogance against him? If I pretend to agree, I might be able to steer this in my favour.)
Then Jack, voice trembling but daring to speak again, shifting his tone to something a bit more persuasive, "You know… maybe I could help you flesh out the story. Add some real depth. Make it more than just a bunch of jump scares. If you want this nightmare to really shake the mortal realm, maybe, I could help you make it… more unforgettable."
Deimos's eyes narrowed, a dark, amused smile curling his lips. "You think your petty human ideas can match my divine genius? How quaint. I am chaos incarnate. I don't need your help; my creations are perfect without mortal meddling. But… if you honestly believe you can contribute, perhaps I'll indulge your foolishness."
(That's right, Jack mused secretly. Play the fool, show some humility. Or better yet, act like I respect his ego. It might make him underestimate me.)
Jack's voice grew more confident, veiled with a subtle, persuasive tone. "Of course, not. I'm just… thinking, you know? Maybe I could contribute a little, to help your divine self. You're the god of chaos, after all. We mortals would hardly understand your divine masterpiece. So… Isn't it better to have a mortal's touch to make it even more terrifying?"
Deimos's arrogance swelled, his previous fury momentarily faded into a smirk. His divine rage, so fierce moments before, was temporarily replaced by a twisted satisfaction. "You mortals are so predictable, thinking you can bargain with the divine. But very well. I'll indulge you. But remember, this is my creation. Your input is just a tool, a toy in the grand design. Fail me, and I'll turn your hope into dust, your world, your family, everything you hold dear… Will burn in the flames of chaos I unleash. And I will enjoy watching you helplessly drown in the darkness you thought you could control."
(He's arrogant, but I've got him. Jack's mind raced. If I keep playing his game, maybe I can turn his pride against him. You need to buy more time. Play it cool. If he thinks you're afraid of him, maybe he'll let his guard down.)
Jack nodded, a faint, knowing smile creeping onto his face. Inside, he was already plotting, playing this divine chess game, knowing full well that Deimos's arrogance was his greatest weakness, ripe for manipulation.
End of Ch 7: The Divine Pride and the Mortal Game