While Charlemagne was engrossed in conversation with the God of the System, another divine meeting was taking place.

  "The 534,932nd special conference of Earth's GOD is now in session. All rise in honor of President Brett!" Formua Integralis telepathically notified the assembly after banging her gavel. The din of a thousand conservations instantly ceased, replaced by the din of several thousand deities rising to whatever appendages they used for locomotion.

  President Brett emerged from his hidden door as usual, but this time he had already abandoned his hoodie, sweatpants, and Crocs. His resplendent black robes seemed to absorb all light as he made his way to his rainbow throne, making it almost impossible to look directly at the head of GOD. He took his seat without delay.

  “Please be seated," President Brett urged the gathering, his typical bored expression nowhere to be found. From his vantage point atop the throne, he could easily see just how many deities had skipped today’s session. He didn’t blame them, after all, the System had just arrived on Earth and everyone was scrambling to earn as many achievements as they could in order to get a head start. Those gathered here today were largely those who ruled over extinct species, needed a break from the stress, or thought that their opinions actually mattered.

  The President waited a few moments to allow the assembled deities to sit before continuing. "Our first order of business is to deal with the minutes from our last special session. Our secretary, Louis, will read the minutes of our last session."

  "I motion that we forgo the reading of the minutes, on the grounds that every member of GOD has a photographic memory,” came the expected interruption.

  “Second!” a multitude of voices rose in agreement.

  The vote was short and decisive, and the reading of the minutes was skipped.

  “Very good. Now, the President recognizes Formua Integralis, Vice President of GOD, to address today’s special agenda. Formua, if you please?”

  “Thank you, President Brett,” the voice of Formua, the deity of ants and termites, buzzed into the brain of each member of the assembly. “The first order of business is a motion to enter a formal complaint, authored and submitted by Rattini along with three hundred forty-six cosponsoring deities, charging you with high crimes and misdemeanors for wanton destruction of life. The motion calls for reparations for the loss of life, a delay of the system integration while the SAFE committee prepares a report on the incident, and for President Brent to voluntarily step down as President of GOD.”

  Upon hearing the charges read out loud, Brett’s serious expression darkened into the barest hint of a scowl. However, the deity of humans quickly recovered to a neutral expression.

  “The chair recognizes Rattini Smintheus. You and each of your cosponsors will have five minutes to address GOD. You may not yield back time if you do not use it.”

  Space itself decided to go for a spin as the deity of rats found herself at the head of the massive oval table, seated just next to Formua Integralis. She hopped up and took her place at the podium without delay.

  Although Rattini was one of the higher-ranked deities in GOD, she hated being in the spotlight. She looked around the room for support, locking eyes with the precious few of her co-complainants who had actually shown up to the meeting. Her anger at the others helped her find her voice, and she delivered a passionate speech against the actions of President Brett.

  “In short,” she claimed as her time ran out, “President Brett knowingly instructed a human under his direct control to launch a nuclear war on the eve of the System’s arrival, with the aim of wiping out as many Champions as he could. He then immediately began choosing Champions among humans to take full advantage of the chaos. The Champions made coordinated attacks on organisms living on the land, in the air, and under the sea. It is an undeniable fact that President Brett has abused his inside knowledge of the System’s implementation, and…”

  Rattini’s mouth froze mid-sentence as her allotted time expired and she quickly sat back down.

  “Your time is up,” Formua announced. “The chair now recognizes Richard R. You are allotted five minutes to speak.”

  The dimensional tapestry once again whirled around as Rattini was returned to her former spot. Occupying the place where she had been sitting was a raccoon dressed up like a forest ranger. Richard, or Rick to his friends, rose from his seat with a dignity that belied his ridiculous appearance and began to deliver his remarks in a deep, rich voice that rose and fell at just the right moments. The deity spoke rapidly, fitting in over a dozen supporting examples as he tore into President Brett, reiterating the group's demands for the President to pay reparations to the deities he had wronged. Rick’s remarks concluded after exactly 4 minutes and 59.999 seconds.

  Formua Integralis called the next speaker, and then the next, until all of the deities aligned with Rattini had their turn to speak. When the speeches were finished, Formua addressed the President.

  “President Brett, you have heard from the sponsors of the motion. Per GOD’s standing rules, the floor is yours for a rebuttal for the next two-hundred and eighty-four minutes. You may choose to address GOD from either the throne or the podium.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Although the fabric of space remained undisturbed, President Brett appeared to teleport directly from his throne to the podium. He held the Aegis in one hand but kept Excalibur sheathed while he addressed the assembly.

  “Thank you, Formua Integralis, but that won’t be necessary. I can sum up my answer to this complaint in a few short words. There will be no reparations, no rollback of the System, and I will not be stepping down as President of GOD.”

  President Brett looked around the room, his expression inscrutable as he locked eyes with each being at the table.

  “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but this was a completely internal, human, affair that falls squarely under my jurisdiction. Article 803, Section B, Subsection 1, Clause C, Subclause 1 clearly establishes that I have the right to “initiate intraspecies war at any time and place, provided that the casualties caused by that war in the affected regions do not a) recklessly cause the extinction of a species b) render the Earth uninhabitable to a majority of extant organisms, or c) result in so few casualties that a reasonable observer would determine that the war was initiated solely to cause collateral damage.”

  After making his defense, President Brett looked around the room once more, this time allowing his expression to soften when he noticed the Deity of Pangolins.

  “Liang Xing, for what it’s worth, I am very sorry about what happened to your Champion. The city of Porto Novo in West Africa wasn’t even on the list of targets: a colonel somewhere down the line didn’t understand the difference between ‘capital city’ and ‘seat of government’. I will take full responsibility for that mix-up and help you raise up a new Champion in Benin, Togo, or Nigeria. Your choice.”

  After making this conciliatory offer, Brett’s eyes narrowed as he finished his speech.

  “But don’t you all think for a moment that I’ll forget what you’ve done here today. Calling my integrity into question, demanding that I step down, and even trying to roll back the System implementation? I’ve heard some crazy demands since my species learned how to bang rocks together, but this takes the cake. Formua, I yield back my time. Let’s get this over with.”

  Brett disappeared from the podium and regained his place on the rainbow throne so quickly that, for a moment, it looked like he was in two places at once. After waiting for a moment to allow the impact of the President’s words to settle in, Formua once again took control of the proceedings.

  “A motion to enter a complaint has been duly filed. Myria, is a quorum present today?”

  Myria, the deity of a group of about 13,000 species who happened to have numerous appendages, had used her countless legs to tally the deities in attendance.

  “No,” she replied dutifully. “We’re 94 deities short of a quorum.”

  A flurry of hushed conversations broke out among the ranks at the declaration.

  Formua Integralis banged her gavel.

  “Order. We will have order.”

  She gave the assembly a few moments to wind down before banging again, this time squelching entirely the last few holdouts.

  “Since we do not have a quorum, no vote may be taken. That being the end of the agenda for today’s special session, you are dismissed.”

  The insectoid deity slammed her gavel down once more with finality, ending the 534,932nd special conference. By the time the echo from her gavel had reached the rainbow throne, Brett had already vanished.

  The deity of humans reappeared in his personal demiplane, one far larger and more opulent than the one owned by Grimfalk. After storing Excalibur and the Aegis into his personal “inventory”, he tossed his robes and crown to a waiting attendant and kicked his Crocs into a small cubby. He curled his toes into the plush carpet that covered the entryway to his personal chambers and sighed. Being President was a huge pain, but it was far better than the alternative. There were not a lot of deities with the skillsets to do what he did. Besides himself, perhaps only Deckel, the deity of octopoda, could ever hope to wrangle a group as large and diverse as GOD. But Deckel had neither the patience nor the charisma to serve as a viable replacement.

  As Brett mused on how lonely it was to be at the top, a pair of black paws wrapped around his head, trapping it in a grip that would have deformed carbon steel. Despite the enormous pressure, the President smiled.

  “Guess who?” a melodious voice asked before breaking out into giggles.

  “Felissa, doesn’t this game ever get old?” Brett objected, allowing the hands to remain. “You know as well as I do that you’re the only one who has tried this joke in a quarter of a million years. And yet you keep thinking it will work on me.”

  “Oh, I know it won’t work on you,” Fellissa, the deity over cats and second only to Brett in personal power, purred. Brett started walking again, and she followed, shrinking down to the size of a kitten as she floated next to his head. “But it’s much too fun to give up.”

  The President shrugged.

  “Suit yourself, then. I owe you that much since you agreed to stay away from the GOD meeting today. Man, what a bunch of whiners. A lot of humans died in that war, you know.”

  “And cats, too,” Felissa said, her tail whipping back and forth. “I understand why you did what you did, yet the cost was very high, Brett.”

  Brett sighed again and continued walking, his head held high.

  “Thankfully only a few great cats in zoos were affected. Are you still planning a lion-heavy strategy?”

  “Yes, but outside of Africa I’m looking mostly at tigers and pumas. And I really need at least one cheetah, just for fun. I want to see how quickly I can get it to break the sound barrier.”

  Brett laughed at the idea of a supersonic cat as they entered into his quarters. He hopped into a reclining chair and put his bare feet up. Felissa scrambled up the chair, pretending to need help to make it all the way to the top. Brett caught her just as she was slipping and set her in his lap.

  “Brett…” she said threateningly, sniffing at the other deity’s hands.

  “I admit it, okay!” the President responded to the unspoken accusation. “I was petting Canius. His ears are just so soft! Besides, you know he can’t hold a candle to you, that’s why he’s number three and you’re number two.”

  The cat deity stretched, allowing her long, sharp claws to peep out from her front paws for just a moment.

  “Just so long as you understand that he will always be inferior to me, I suppose you can give him the occasional pat. Now, tell me, how did the vote go?”

  “There was no vote,” the President explained. “didn’t have a quorum.”

  “That’s good. The incident is fresh in everyone’s mind now. But wait a bit, offer a few gestures of goodwill, and everything will be smoothed over in no time.”

  “I know,” Brett nodded. “There are just a few loose ends I need to handle. The worst part of it was that we missed killing that stupid chicken. I might need your help with that one.”

  Felissa purred as Brett began to scratch just behind her ears.

  “Just let me know what I need to do.”