Xanatos face-palmed, using his other hand to wave the smell of banana out of the air. That Jester was truly insane... but still...
He now had the necessary power. As the bubble popped, he had felt his blood beginning to boil, as if invigorated, refreshed, and renewed, leaving him feel like another god entirely. He had never weld this much raw power before at once, and the sensation of such raw power was truly something else. Xanatos breathed in, smelling the clean, dewy air of his grove, intermingled with the rather unpleasant smells of the dead Scribbles below. He felt the tree he was on beginning to wobble in the breeze, heard the sharp sound of Scribbles hacking away at the tree in their mindless frenzy.
"Now is the time!" He thought to himself, as he folded his hands together and dropped to a kneeling position. He opened his eyes once more, taking a look at the destruction that folded out before him. His grove was a wreck, trees uprooted and aflame, the ground torn up and churned up by the Diggles. He focused intently on a pair of fighting Scribbles, weaving circles about one another as they sought an opening to strike. Any other person would have simply seen the two fighting. In ordinary circumstances, so would he himself. But now...
The power within him churned, making him feel hot and uncomfortable. He encouraged that feeling, let the energy flow, until it felt as if he was on fire. Xanatos strained his eyes, looking at the two Scribbles as if the world depended upon it. And for him, it did. And slowly, ever so slowly, his vision changed.
It was a subtle thing at first, but slowly, the Scribbles seemed to be losing color. So too, did the rest of the world. Slowly, bit by bit, the color was drained out of the world. The other gods could see nothing. But he himself knew what was happening. As his inner fire churned, so too did his vision. Things seemed to be blurred, less distinct at first. The world, to him, seemed to be falling apart into a mess of static. But then... the now gray scribbles expanded it seemed, infinitely so. The static coalesced, and stretched to impossible limits. The world as he saw it became gray, dull, and infinite, broken apart into infinite threads that stereched to the visible horizion and beyond. The world as he knew it was gone. And as the power within him drained away, the fire cooling as it did, Xanatos knew that it had been done.
He had broken past the material plane and into its core, where the strings of fate and probability were intertwined with all events that occured in the material world. He saw the string that intertangled with the fight he had, only moments ago, been witnessing. He saw that they were evenly matched, with a perfect 50/50 chance of either winning. And just seconds later, he saw the string crumble as the fight was won. Whomsoever won, he could not know, nor did he care to know. All that mattered now was that he was safe; and though he lacked the power to manipulate the threads of fate, he knew that no god could.
And here, he could plan out his next move. Here, in the Plane of Fate...
3 AP:Create Plane (Plane of Fate)Plane of Fate:
Subjective Directional Gravity
Normal Time
Finite Shape (The shape and size of the Material Plane)
Static (There are no 'objects' on this plane, and the threads themselves can't be manipulated)
Strongly Law-Aligned
Dead Magic (Magic can't be summoned into being here)
Coexistent with Material Plane (Passage between the two can be facilitated with some spells)
0/2 AP