Each bucket is a self-contained, self-referential cylinder, circular and limitless in one dimension and finite and limited in another. No bucket needs another bucket. They are whole and centered in themselves, and need nothing.
if buckets are truly eternal, divine beings (as evidence suggests), it would imply that there is, indeed, a force greater than the gods, whom bestowed upon us the divine metal, the incredible burst of skill to create an artifact, and the holy buckets themselves. This, logically, implies that there is indeed a force greater than the gods, and as buckets are theoretically infinite, stronger than infinity.
However, it must be noted that the bucket is not, in fact, infinite in both directions. It therefore stands to reason that this causes it to be potentially weaker than being infinite in both directions, and as it is weaker it is imperfect. But, as the acute reader may realize, if the bucket were indeed infinite in both directions, it would be unable to hold anything. It's perfection makes it flawed.
A conundrum, indeed.
This may tell us that perfection, true bliss, may indeed be a failing all it's own; and one of the worst possible flaws to have. Perfection prevents you from failing; a necessary learning experience. The gods have seen this and too, have made themselves imperfect;as when the gods shape the world, there are often rejections. Through this imperfection we see ourselves, and by it, become divine in our own right.
Which brings us to the destroyer; the atom-smasher.
An atom-smasher (henceforth referred to as AS) has but two uses; a path, and a destroyer. Few can withstand it's might. This weapon is potent to destroy any item that might have the misfortune of coming under it. Said items vanish into nonexistence. The AS leaves not a trace of its destruction; no blood; no dust; true nothingness. This is what the gods fight against; the worked, toiled, yes, even
failed for the likes of this world. Normally, once it is finished, they pick up the pieces; restart. They
Create New World!, if you will. But when they come for the pieces, they are disheartened, as none remain. But, alas, they are too busy to properly mourn, so their growing rage enters their future work. The creatures become more vicious, the dead rise more dangerously than ever before, a dwarf keeps spamming cancellations because he is blocking his own job site.
Using the evidence I present here, I am forced to conclude that the AS has nigh-infinitely
negative levels of power which rivals even the gods. This utter obliviation infuriates the gods to no end, causing them to make worlds even more hellish (or, as they say,
!!Fun!!) and yet we continue. We continue to destroy the god's handiwork simply because we can't, as mere mortals,
be bothered to deal with it. The gods gave us the bucket as their symbol of power, yet we continue to mock their creation.
'Why?' one asks. The gods cannot understand. 'Why? Every iteration we spite them. Crush them. Our power is great. Our works are mighty. Why do they return? Why do they laugh? Why, oh why, must they
destroy?'
And then we turn to them, and give them their answer;'It is as the bucket,' we say. 'Infinite yet not. Perfectly imperfect. We cannot win, because of your designs; we can but lose; delay the inevitable. We know we cannot win; thus, we learn to love losing. And at your divine fury, you cause more death and destruction. We revel in this. For with your fury, you create Fun.' The last word is always spoken with so much power, so much hidden malevolence, so much unbridled glee at the suffering of these creatures, that the gods, to the last one, are frozen with terror.
'What could terrify us? We are enlightened; all-powerful. How can they strike fear into our hearts?' the gods plead in quavering voices.
A booming laugh is heard. 'We do not fear you,' we state. 'It is as the atom-smasher. Your infinite power bends us to your will; as you close down upon us, we are helpless. We are destroyed without a trace.'
'If this is true,' a few courageous (or perhaps foolish) gods will demand to know,'If you are truly under our power absolute,
how can you not fear us?'
'Why, we have already answered.' we say, with perhaps a hint of confusion. 'We cannot win, thus we revel in loss. We truly control little. But what little we have, it is ours. And we
dare you to take it back.'
By these words all gods were enraged; they made more vicious worlds before. Yet we laugh. And one god, the most powerful, laughs with us.
'he he he'