Deep at the darkest edges of the cosmos, a mystic realm exists. For eons at a time, it remains dormant until, when the universe is at its most critical juncture; its boarders give way and summons the greatest of beings of their respected worlds.
It does not care for the rebuttal or excuses of those that may refuse or resist its power. For this realm, needs only the verdict to decide a single champion of a single pantheon to become its only victor. Those that are able to survive are given their freedom, vast riches, and a glory that will mark the beginning of a new age.
For those that fall, shall fade until they are finally forgotten.
Now, the time has come again, to call upon Gods, to have immortals face off against one another on the great battlefield known simply as SMITE.
But, there are the few among the many pantheons that are suspicious of this strange land, those few who question and wonder the reasoning for this realm's existence. Will these few gods dare to find the truth, to join together, to fight even their own pantheons to discover the dark secrets that SMITE holds…?
Let us travel to one of the oldest pantheons that have lasted through out the eons. The Egyptian Pantheon has been regarded for their wisdom, their influence of the mystical order, and their ties with the cosmos. The gods within this order are as sturdy as their great pyramids and vast as their Nile River; a broadening hierarchy of powerful magic wielders, towering guardians, and strong warriors. But one in the immense ranks of their pantheon has weighed his mind with suspicious contemplation.
Upon a stone balcony, a God, one of the first to influence the land of his home, stood with firm posture as he gazed upon the shimmering sun as it made its rise. Its celestial glow blanketed the lands of yellow sand and made them sparkle like a sea of gold. Even The pyramids from the right of his view were glorious monoliths as they basked in the shining light. He could feel the warm breeze brush through the crimson lochs of his thick mane, his whiskers twitch ever so lightly.
But, as beautiful as this place was, this beautiful view that portrayed his home with such warm nostalgia was no more than cheap imitation. This God was far too wise to be enraptured in illusion like this. This was but an insult to his feral, golden eyes.
Yet he stood here, not to admire the scenery, but to contemplate. His mind weighed with great doubt and suspicion. In his deep thought, he wondered who was responsible for this affronting deed. To be abducted from his home, from Egypt, from his beloved mortals, his people, the warriors and solders he swore to protect, and be forced to take part in this contest of strength and skill against other gods, not those of his pantheon, but from others. He has faced many pantheons; the Olympians, the Devas, the Asgardians, the Aztecs, and the Shangdi. Few he has only met in combat, and most he has only heard from tales of their deeds. However, he suspects that a great battle between two or more pantheons will collide eventually. As a God of War himself, he should relish in this fact, but it only made his mind less at ease.
A true warrior never underestimates his opponent; those were the teachings he lived by and shared with his students. To preserve his pantheon, he must consider the possibility of an alliance.
But with whom?
He had a few candidates in mind, but before he can even proceed on that venture, he must speak with his Father.
In the midst of his pondering, two large golden doors behind him slowly opened as a small mortal entered with humble and respectful posture. He wore the traditional clothing of a pharaoh's servant; a clean, white tunic adorning the neck area with golden fabric, and black lace sandals. But the God knew that this mortal was nothing more than a fake apparition. They only referred to themselves as "Minions." None of them had any unique traits, or personality, no soul, not even names. They were just expendable pawns, another insult for this God for he believes that all mortals, no matter how high or low their class may be, they were more than just a means to an end.
"Lord Anhur." The servant addresses the Lion God as he bowed lowly, "The Celestial Ra may welcome your presence now."
And without so much as a glance, Anhur passes the minion and proceeds out the door.
