Pantheon Ch 12: Understanding Scale (Patreon)

The eye lingered for what felt like an eternity.

I couldn't move. Couldn't look away. My entire body had locked up, frozen in place by the sheer impossibility of what I was seeing.

The green iris—vast and luminous—shifted slightly, the pupil contracting as if adjusting to the light. And with that tiny movement, I felt the air pressure change. Felt the world tilt just a fraction.

She was real.

This wasn't an illusion. Wasn't some trick of divine magic meant to intimidate us.

This was her actual size.

Then, slowly, the eye began to move.

No—she was moving. Floating backward, pulling away from us.

As the distance grew, more of her came into view.

First, the other eye. Just as massive. Just as impossibly green.

Then the bridge of her nose—smooth, elegant, stretching upward like a pale mountain range.

Her face continued to reveal itself as she drifted back through the golden clouds. High cheekbones. Lips that could have served as shelter for our entire assembly. Pink hair that cascaded down in waves so vast they disappeared beyond the horizon.

My brain struggled to process the scale.

The school—this entire campus with its towers and plazas and floating cars—would fit comfortably in one of her palms. No, not just fit. It would sit there with room to spare. She could cup the whole place in her hands like someone holding a snow globe.

And the floating cities I'd seen in the distance when I first arrived? The ones drifting among the golden clouds?

She could gather them all up. Hold them. Cradle them between her fingers like marbles.

A sudden breeze picked up, and I watched—horrified and mesmerized—as one of her eyelashes shifted slightly in the wind.

Just one.

A single strand of hair from her eyelash.

It was longer than the tallest building on campus. Thicker than the columns that held up the orientation hall.

If it fell—if it simply detached and dropped—it would obliterate the entire school. Crush us. Flatten everything.

And she wouldn't even notice.

"By the roots..." Eryndor whispered beside me, his voice trembling.

I glanced at him. His face had gone pale, eyes wide and shimmering with something between awe and terror.

I understood completely.

The pink-haired goddess continued floating backward, her expression serene, almost gentle. She smiled down at us—a warm, kind smile—but it didn't matter.

Kindness didn't change the fact that we were nothing to her.

Less than nothing.

We were ants trying to comprehend a mountain.

Finally, her form began to shimmer, the massive figure growing translucent. The light intensified around her, and in a ripple of divine energy, she was gone.

A moment later, she reappeared on the stage beside Vareth and Azure.

Human-sized again.

Normal.

As if the last few minutes hadn't just fundamentally altered my understanding of reality.

She smoothed down her white dress, still smiling pleasantly. "I do hope that was educational," she said, her voice light and cheerful.

Educational.

Yeah.

That's one word for it.

Vareth's smirk widened. "Thank you, Lady Amara."

She inclined her head gracefully.

Vareth turned back to the students, and I could see that almost everyone looked shaken. Some were gripping their seats. Others had gone pale. A few looked like they were going to be sick.

"Let this serve as your introduction to the truth of this institution," Vareth said calmly. "You are here to learn. To serve. To understand the divine. And if you succeed..."

He paused.

"You will be forever changed."

The rest of orientation passed in a blur.

Speeches. Rules. Schedules.

I barely heard any of it.

My brain was still stuck on that eye. On the sheer, incomprehensible scale of what I'd just witnessed.

When they finally dismissed us, I stood on shaky legs and followed Eryndor out of the hall in silence.

"That was..." Eryndor started, then stopped. "I do not have words."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Me neither."

We checked our schedules as we walked. First class: Divine Pantheons and Hierarchies.

Great.

The classroom was located in one of the smaller buildings near the center of campus, and when we arrived, I immediately noticed something.

The room was divided.

Not by a physical barrier, but by an invisible line that everyone seemed to understand instinctively.

On the right side of the room sat the gods and goddesses. They looked relaxed, confident, some chatting amongst themselves. Their uniforms were different from ours—white jackets, yes, but with gold trim instead of bronze. Their badges shimmered.

And on the left side—

The mortals.

Humans. Elves. Others.

All of us wearing bronze badges.

All of us sitting stiffly, quietly.

I scanned the room and my stomach dropped.

Neil.

She sat near the front on the gods' side, silver hair catching the light. She was leaning back in her chair, arms crossed, looking utterly bored.

Then her eyes flicked toward me.

And she smiled.

Not friendly.

Not welcoming.

Predatory.

I forced myself to look away and took a seat near the back of the mortals' side. Eryndor sat beside me, his hands folded neatly on the desk.

"She is here," he whispered.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I noticed."

Before I could say anything else, the door at the front of the room opened.

A man stepped inside.

He was older—maybe mid-forties—with curly brown hair that looked perpetually messy and a pair of thin-framed glasses perched on his nose. He wore a simple brown robe over a shirt and slacks, and he carried a worn leather satchel that he set down on the desk with a soft thump.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm but firm. "My name is Professor Daleon."

He turned and wrote his name on the board in clean, precise letters.

"This is Divine Pantheons and Hierarchies," he continued, "and by the end of this course, you will understand not only the structure of godly power across the universe, but also why that structure exists."

He adjusted his glasses and looked out over the room, his gaze sweeping across both sides.

"Gods," he said, nodding toward the right. "Mortals." He nodded toward us. "You are divided now, but you will not remain so. This school exists because you need each other."

A few of the gods shifted uncomfortably. One of them—a tall guy with red hair—scoffed quietly.

Professor Daleon's eyes snapped to him.

"Something to add, Mr. Pyren?"

The red-haired god straightened slightly. "No, sir."

"Good." Daleon's expression didn't change, but there was steel beneath it. "Then let us begin."

He turned and began writing on the board again.

The Five God Kings

"At the foundation of all divine order," he said, "are the Five God Kings. These are not merely powerful gods. They are progenitors. Architects of the current age."

He underlined one name.

Aeon, the First God King

"Aeon," Daleon continued, "is the oldest. The God of Creation. He came into being immediately after the War of Paragons—a cataclysmic conflict that nearly tore the universe apart."

War of Paragons.

I filed that away. Sounded important.

"The Paragons were beings of unimaginable power," Daleon said, his tone somber. "And when they fell, they left only chaos. Reality itself was unstable. Worlds collapsed. Stars went dark. It was... the end."

He paused.

"But from that chaos, Aeon emerged. And with him, order."

He wrote four more names beneath Aeon's.

Seraph – God King of Light

Malakar – God King of Shadows

Thalor – God King of War

Elyra – God Queen of Life

"Together," Daleon said, "the Five God Kings rebuilt the universe. They established the divine hierarchy. Created the Pantheons. And forged the bonds between gods and mortals that allow civilization to exist."

He turned back to face us.

"You are here," he said firmly, "because that bond is essential. Gods provide power, protection, and purpose. Mortals provide faith, service, and grounding. Without each other, both sides falter."

His gaze moved between the two sides of the room.

"You will learn this," he said. "Gods and mortals alike."

I glanced across the room.

The gods looked... less convinced.

Some were paying attention, sure. But others looked dismissive. Uninterested.

My eyes drifted back to Neil.

She was still watching me.

And I couldn't stop the thought from creeping in.

Is she that big too?

The image of Lady Amara's eye flashed through my mind. The wind from her blink. The impossible, crushing scale of her.

If Neil could do that...

If she could become that massive...

I swallowed hard.

Neil's lips curved into a smirk, like she knew exactly what I was thinking.

I forced myself to look away and focus on the lecture.

But my hands were clenched tight under the desk.

Class ended an hour later.

Professor Daleon dismissed us with a reminder to read the first three chapters of our textbooks and to "think critically about the relationship between power and responsibility."

I stood, gathering my things, and started toward the door with Eryndor.

"That was fascinating," Eryndor said, eyes bright. "The War of Paragons—I had heard stories, but—"

"Manny."

The voice cut through the noise of students leaving.

I stopped.

Turned.

Neil stood a few feet away, arms crossed, silver hair shimmering. The two goddesses from before—the orange-haired one and the armored one—flanked her like silent sentinels.

Great.

"Can I help you?" I asked, keeping my voice even.

She stepped closer, and I noticed the other students quickly moving out of her way. Even the gods gave her space.

"You embarrassed me yesterday," she said, her voice calm but edged with something sharp.

"Did I?" I said. "I don't remember."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You interfered," she continued. "You stood between me and that elf." She said the word like it tasted bad. "And you made me look weak in front of Lord Azure."

I raised an eyebrow. "You made yourself look weak by picking on someone smaller than you."

Her jaw tightened.

The orange-haired goddess shifted uncomfortably. The armored one didn't move.

"You should be more careful," Neil said, stepping even closer. "Mortals who disrespect gods tend to have... unfortunate accidents."

I met her gaze.

And for reasons I couldn't fully explain—maybe stupidity, maybe stubbornness—I smiled.

"Is that what you call it?" I said. "Because from where I was standing, it looked more like three goddesses ganging up on one kid because they were bored."

Her eyes flashed.

"Careful, mortal."

"Or what?" I said. "You'll glare at me harder?"

A few students nearby gasped.

Neil's expression went cold.

"You think you're clever," she said quietly.

"I think I'm honest," I shot back. "And I think you're not used to people calling you out."

For a second, I thought she might actually hit me.

But instead, she laughed.

It wasn't a nice laugh.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," she said.

"Maybe," I said. "But at least I'm not a bully."

Her face flushed.

And then—

Her body began to glow.

Soft at first. Then brighter. Silver light radiated from her skin, spilling outward like liquid moonlight.

The ground trembled.

Not violently. Just... a low, steady rumble that I felt in my chest.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Was she—

Was she going to—

My mind flashed back to Lady Amara. To the eye. To the scale.

If Neil did that here—

"Miss Neil!"

Professor Daleon's voice cracked through the hallway like a whip.

The light snapped off instantly.

The rumbling stopped.

Neil turned, and for the first time, I saw something like fear flicker across her face.

Daleon stood at the classroom door, glasses glinting, expression not pleased.

"Step away from the mortal," he said firmly. "Now."

Neil hesitated, then took a step back.

Daleon walked forward, and even though he was just a man—no glowing aura, no divine power—everyone moved out of his way.

He stopped between us.

"Transforming on campus without authorization is strictly forbidden," he said, voice sharp. "You know this, Miss Neil."

"He—" she started.

"I do not care," Daleon interrupted. "You are a goddess. He is a mortal. You do not threaten students, regardless of provocation."

His gaze shifted to me.

"And you," he said, tone cooling slightly, "should be more careful about antagonizing beings who could crush you without effort."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"...Yes, sir," I muttered.

Daleon's eyes flicked down.

"You're bleeding."

I blinked, then looked down at my arm.

There was a shallow cut along my forearm, blood seeping through my sleeve. I hadn't even felt it.

Must've happened when the ground shook. Maybe I'd scraped against something.

"Go to the nurse," Daleon said. "Have that looked at."

"I'm fine—"

"That was not a suggestion, Mr. Tarek."

I exhaled. "Yes, sir."

He nodded curtly, then turned back to Neil.

"We will be having a conversation later, Miss Neil. You and your companions."

Her jaw clenched, but she nodded.

Daleon gestured for me to leave.

I didn't argue.

I walked past Neil, past the other students, and out into the hallway.

My heart was pounding.

My hands were shaking.

And as I glanced back one last time, I saw Neil staring after me.

Not angry anymore.

Just... cold.

Calculating.

And I realized something.

Gods didn't see mortals as equals.

Not even close.

We were toys to them. Insects. Things to be used or discarded.

And no amount of bravery or stubbornness was going to change that.

Not unless I found power of my own.

I clenched my fist, ignoring the sting from the cut.

Fine.

If that's how it was going to be...

Then I'd find a way to survive it.