It was the perfect battle ground- It was called “The Battlefield” after all.
Giant castles with towers stretching to the sky. Large mountains and small hills. Rivers, lakes, and majestic waterfalls. A few trees here and there and forests surrounding the two largest castles. A giant open sky that became a maze of twists and turns and paradoxes seemingly without end. A gigantic hollow underground just a few layers beneath the surface if anyone could find it. Clouds that could show visions of the past, present, and future. A world sized arena without the two armies it seemed so perfectly made for. The Battlefield was untouched, pristine, pure.
Until they were called.
There were players of every title possible from hundreds of different sessions. Every player was a god, holding untold power and creative potential, just like Skaia itself. And each player’s eyes were blank. All the players had felt the cold sting of fate.
Somehow they knew that they were here to fight to their second death.
They knew that once they died here, they would pass on, and be unable to return to the heaven of their dream bubbles.
They knew the reward was worth it.
And that the reward was the one thing they all wished for.
To return to life.
To become the true Hero of their session.
And so the Game of the Gods began.