Hello, and welcome to the re-write of The Creatives! I'm Th34wesomeness, in case you didn't know or was just to lazy to check. Anyways, this is a re-write of my first fanfiction, The Creatives, which I finished. I've put the sequel on hold until after December, as I want to completely re-vamp the story. I'm changing lots of names, physics, and more, and adding much more detail. This is just the prologue, and if you read this for the first time, I strongly encourage you to keep going to the next chapter. So yeah... enjoy!
Diüqs walked through the tunnel, listening to his footsteps reverberating against the sandstone walls. The casual observer might have said the passage was new; it looked refined and clean. However, this was not the case, for these tunnels had existed for for more than a hundred years.
However, Diüqs did not have any interest about this. He had grown up in these underground passages, forced to learn on his own. His mother had been gone for most of his childhood, and his father was cruel. Of course, this was to be expected from a Godist. So, as he walked through his old home, he thought.
The passages all formed a giant underground complex. In fact, it was big enough to hold an army. And as Diüqs emerged from the tunnel and onto the balcony of a dimly lit, sandstone-columned room, he looked over his army of rough, leather armor-clad Godists. His mouth twitched as if to smile, but he did not. He kept himself composed, and stepped out for the rows of soldiers to see him.
The crowd began to chant, growing louder and nearly thunderous.
Hail the Godists, hail to Di! Hail the Godists, hail to Di!
Diüqs allowed a pleased expression to come across his face. The Wizards thought they been driven out, but they were sorrowfully mistaken. The Godists had been spending years hiding; training for the day that they would finally get retribution. The Godists would surely return.
Diüqs had only one thought.
Revenge.