Storms filled the night and anyone with a drop of sensibleness had barricaded themselves into their homes. The storms almost didn't seem just of rain and thunder but a siege of the world against but one man.

These were horrid conditions for any except the most twisted of actions. Jorn mused. The storm mirrored the chaos he would bring with this ritual whether he succeeded or not. The ritual markings would seem to be just twisted versions of the ideograms of the magicraft language to the ignorant. (Well that included almost everyone but him) He knew the truth though; these were the originals, the runes the cardinal mages extracted out of the still warm cores of monsters. The fact that everyone knew that their magi language was but a distilled and more manageable form but didn't see the truth baffled him still.

Jorn looked back on the years he had spent fruitlessly calling for everyone to reach even farther. What was stopping them now that the gods were thrown down? The instincts of a whipped meek species it seemed. They accused him of insanity while he accused them of cowardice. In the end, he received no offer of cooperation.

With the room as a newly expanded and rough cavern barely lit with candles - Jorn still couldn't believe he had to resort to using candles- he was amused to find that this would look like some sort of ritual offering sacrifices to some dark god to those ignorant naysayers. Then again when Jorn became God he wouldn't be a benevolent one so maybe there was some truth to that. Wait he could actually ask one of those naysayers right now couldn't he? Jorn had one right here!

"Hey Asani you never thought I would make it this far did you? Give me your thoughts. Oh wait I forgot I took your tongue. Kisorn lessen the effects of the scrambler on her a little."

He had picked up an assistant but that fool didn't count. At best Kisorn provided Jorn with amusing ideas in 'experimenting.' But the idiot let one of the summoneds obtained using the original ritual escape. No matter, though. The escapee was a savage.

He didn't know their language and his mana was a mess. This would continue to make reading his thoughts impossible as long as his Jacker still lived. Didn't his stupid assistant mention that his marker indicated he was a slave at the moment?


"Well that was no fun; I thought I broke her in. Turn the scrambler to full power." This would only be a proof of concept but would still herald a new age - his age - and he relished holding the world itself hostage. As if an attempt by the world to smite him, lightning struck but only prompted a shimmering of the shields and slight strain in the sound nullification.

Maybe the world didn't appreciate what could only be a mutilating of the laws of existence. He would have to work fast before an actual guardian regiment was sent his way; that was a real threat rather than the philosophized sentience of the world.

All the calculations panned out, now Jorn only had to execute. Put simply he would be taking the first step to godhood. No not the cheap knockoffs the so-called-originals of his world were and pursued by the former revolutionaries and their descendants. He would crown himself with godhood that stretched across the worlds. Jorn had discovered that within the ritual plebeians considered the hero summoning ritual lay the key to true power.

The world would leak in primordial energy occasionally. The ritual simply made summoned beings into focal points. Some summoned beings just happened to gain massive power from soaking in the blood of the worlds. Most of them were indoctrinated into the summoners' views and presented as "heroes" or were framed as the "enemy of the world" who attacked when the indoctrination failed.

This strategy probably had varying degrees of success but apparently enough successes to make people believe it to be the hero summoning ritual. This modified version would attempt to siphon off the energy from the summoned.

The groans of his sacrifices reached a volume that tore him away from his thoughts. "Shut up you hideous meat bags, be glad you will have an actual purpose to your otherwise meaningless lives!" Their groaning turned into outright yells and Jorn had to order a couple of them bludgeoned to regain the peace he enjoyed until moments ago. Ahh the suffering of lower beings always soothed him but they were obnoxious when they were too loud. Maybe he would look into to better ways of silencing them. Spells would be wasted on them though. A thought for another time.

Jorn didn't appreciate the interruption but he needed to get started anyways, but he would still have to visit his toy room with any who survived. A dash of mana was all that was needed and the ritual began. Immediately screams were elicited from the sacrifices as they felt their very existences being consumed, and a bubble began to form in the center. This was what a hole between worlds looked like according to every record. Jorn had to look down at this point; he couldn't very well let himself go insane from foolishly looking directly.

The deviations started from there. Instead of the leaking primordial energies forming a egg like shape around the bubble, the energy should be siphoned into the first test subject. At least in theory. Jorn kept an eye on his first subject through various medians but the expanding came without warning.

Maybe he should have tried using the corpses of the past "heroes." Jorn haplessly laughed as he witnessed his life's work going critical. He turned his face towards the summoned but only caught a glimpse of them before the rebound hit him. The world smite him.