The gods were dead.

The age had come where the polytheistic religions that once dominated the history of society had finally come to an end. The divine, supposedly immortal beings that could create, move, and destroy continents at whim and throw the world into turmoil with a single sneeze were all but forgotten, nothing but relics of an era no longer relevant. Hundreds of years pass, and their myths are shoved aside by monotheism and secularism. The twenty-first century rolled in and the pagan gods were but a memory and the heathens were the minority.

And so Man had truly killed the divine culture idols of mythic origin.

Or so it seemed.

It all changed with the massive building that had once been known as the tallest structure in the world.

Several individuals that referred to themselves as 'demigods' gathered together in an alliance along with a great amount of followers to put their research and abilities together. It made a dangerous force hard enough to handle that it threatened the very stability of the world. They had easily taken over the Empire State building, killed everyone within it, and began performing a ritual by turning the entire structure into a temple in order to augment the power of the gods who possessed them, creating an artificial heaven in which to house divine bodies.

That day, the entire expanse of the United States of America became enshrouded by a golden hue, blocking out most of the sun's rays as only some light filtered in through various areas. People all over the world took out their phones and cameras in order to catch this strange phenomenon on tape. It was exciting and interesting to see the sky turn gold due to an unexplained phenomenon they figured was due to something going on in outer space. They didn't even realize the danger as a single wind blew through the entire country of America and every bird stopped chirping, every cat disappeared under couches, and even nature itself seemed to go silent.

However, somewhere in the country, someone looked up and narrowed their eyes.

Somewhere else in the same country, someone jumped to their feet with a grin.

Someone only scoffed at the futility.

Another slept through it, unperturbed.

A group of figures hidden under cowls and cloaks swiftly entered an empty building.

In various areas, various people reacted a bit differently from the rest of the world. They didn't know all the details, but knew more than the rest of the world. However, they could not do anything from the vast distance between them and the center of the incident. Not that all of them were overflowing with sense of justice necessary to put a stop to this incident.

In the end, the gold disappeared from the atmosphere and the world continued to turn. Someone had been willing to resolve the incident and ruin what may have been the first and only successful attempt to resurrect a god.

But those various people remembered the feeling.

The feeling of divine power welling up like a cup being filled before being emptied by an external force.

They all knew from that day on; it was possible to resurrect a god after all. And it was possible to eradicate them.

It would be better to say that it all began on that day; June 21.

[9-10 months later]

Deep within an elegant chapel designed in the same gothic style as any other proper church, twelve figures resided. None were actually there—only their upper halves and a bit of the taller ones' lower bodies were given shape by the white flames burning from the bushes planted into the floor beneath them. It was difficult to distinguish any minute features about them, though more obvious characteristics—like height, body type, hair, and so on—were easy to see. For these people who were so well acquainted, this was enough to easily identify each other without being able to make out one another's faces.

This much was obvious from the way eleven voices echoed through the chapel as they all argued back and forth, several hands swinging around passionately as they attempted to make their points with raised voices that drowned each other out.

Only one figure who was placed before a large inverted cross remained silent. There was no hostility in the room. This sort of arguing could only happen when those involved loved and respected each other and could speak candidly without worrying about hurting feelings, embarrassing themselves, or making some mistake. There were simply too many personalities flaring in one room.

Finally, the voice of one of the eleven who were arguing spoke with reason, quieting the others.

"We will gain nothing if we do not hear each other out. Let us conserve energy and listen for a moment."

"Well said, like a true Christian." Another spoke immediately, apparently wishing to be heard the most. "Then allow me to make sure everyone understands the situation. The pagans are running rampant throughout America. We don't know the reason they chose this country. We have encountered many of them, and the strength, personality, knowledge, and a lot more vary too widely among them. There does not seem to be a pattern or relationship among those the pagan gods choose. Worse yet, there have been many who have been captured and killed quite easily, but many more who we failed to capture and even those who have managed to escape captivity! Each enemy is an individual who cannot be handled like the last! One might say we have made little progress since the summer solstice!"

"'Enemy', you say…Though they are possessed by pagan deities, each one is a human being given their own individuality. This is of no surprise. We cannot blame them for our difficulty."

"Are you to say those who fight for the sake of their gods and resist our judgment are not in the wrong?! They endanger the entire world with their actions! Imagine the chaos and terror if one of them actually succeeded in reviving one of those damnable monsters in our world!"

"But he is right. They know not what they do—"

"False! Many—if not all—are well aware of the blasphemy they perform!"

"Blasphemy?! Would you have them all slaughtered?!"

"It's already April. I think our lack of progress speaks for just what we're facing. It's never good to rush, but if we don't come to some conclusion as to how to handle the situation soon—"

"That is why we are discussing it NOW!"

What started off as one person speaking at a time soon involved several others taking sides. Eleven voices were polluting the normally peaceful air of the chapel once again.

"If you can't agree, then do what you think is right. As long as you do that, I'm sure we'll find the truth that waits at the end of this ordeal."

Those were the only words the silent figure before the inverted cross could offer in exasperation before he swept his hands and the white flames dissipated. The figures all vanished along with the flames, one by one, until he was the last one remaining. He heaved one last heavy sigh before his own bush went out as well, leaving the chapel silent and dark, as if no one had ever been in it.