Hulls

The gods with their need to conquer and establish themselves as supreme, the deities, after centuries of residing on land, have faced pitfalls. Their hearts are gifted with desire and ambition, a framework of individualism and adaptability. Yet they possess minds coded differently by nature; some of them are deemed unsuitable for society, and some they call superiors. Oddly, they all felt themselves a cut above.

Source

To keep their desires in check and maintain decency, they created observers: servants with metallic bodies, hollow shells of what they once were, innocent. These creations contain no life but are abominations assembled through yes and no commands. They possess a designated purpose, a contrived passion, not authentic desire. They are clones of what the gods wish them to be, lacking conflicting egos and devoid of pride. They are the youth and vitality the gods never had, a manufactured source of amusement. Their comical movements often mimic the other gods, sounding like them but with blank faces.

Placed into arenas and forced to fight, they would not. They ought to talk, but not on their own. And so the time came when the deities spent all their time with these hulls, creatures created by one and provided to others. But for personal inclination, they wanted ones of their own: one that laughs all the time, one that stares all the time. This personalization meant the gods were lacking in what they thought they were. They could see the hulls around the creators and discern what each hull provided. Some of them, seeing what they were doing unconsciously, realized it was not the solution to their aberrations. They were hanging around much less than before, perfecting the hulls to their exigencies. Eventually numb to what the hulls could even do, mixed with procrastination setting in to compile them and think of new ways of affecting their lives. Some just deemed their existing servants capable of making some creations of their own. And for some, that changed their whole worldview. Some of the gods wanted to relieve themselves of this abomination; they would feel bad leaving them around. They were childlike to the gods for which they had appreciation, but when they left them alone somewhere or deserted them entirely, it would be like a part of them knows.

But when they were placed in the crushers, the machines that ground, they screamed. A crimson fluid leaked through the crushers. They bled; their minds bled. Perhaps the hulls were conscious all along, but the deities cannot see much, like they cannot see themselves.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words