The Council of Ascension convened only for matters of divine significance—when a student's work threatened to reshape the mortal world or redefine the boundaries of godhood. Adrian's summons was rare, and the chamber he entered reflected its gravity.
It was a vast, circular hall suspended in the sky, its walls lined with glowing runes and floating screens. Twelve divine instructors sat in a ring, each representing a major domain: War, Wisdom, Nature, Emotion, Ritual, and more. At the center stood a platform—a place for gods-in-training to present their legacy.
Adrian stepped forward, calm and composed.
He didn't bring a sermon. He didn't wear ceremonial robes. He brought a screen.
The Internet interface hovered beside him, pulsing with soft blue light. He tapped it once, and the chamber filled with projections—maps of user growth, prayer metrics, app usage, and Divine Power flow. The data was undeniable.
"I didn't build a temple," Adrian began. "I built infrastructure."
He walked the Council through his system:
[Library], which had raised literacy rates across three kingdoms.
[Carrier Pigeon], which had revolutionized trade and diplomacy.
[School], which had transformed education.
[Fear Trial], which had become a rite of passage.
[Blessing Store], which had democratized divine access.
He showed how Divine Power was generated through engagement, not obedience. How users were rewarded for learning, growing, and helping others. How the Internet adapted to each culture, each kingdom, each individual.
The Council listened in silence.
Then came the questions.
"Where is your temple?" asked the God of Ritual.
"In every screen," Adrian replied.
"Where are your priests?" asked the Goddess of Order.
"In every teacher, merchant, and student who shares the system."
"Where is your doctrine?" asked the God of War.
"In the apps. In the feedback loops. In the incentives."
Some council members frowned. Others nodded. A few whispered to each other, reviewing the data.
Then Dean Solenne, the presiding goddess, spoke.
"You've bypassed tradition. You've challenged orthodoxy. But you've created something stable, scalable, and transformative."
She paused.
"You are not a god in the old sense. You are something new."
Adrian bowed his head.
"I am a system."
The Council voted.
By a margin of nine to three, Adrian was granted provisional ascension status—an acknowledgment that his divine system had reached a level of influence worthy of recognition. He wasn't fully ascended yet, but he was no longer just a student.
He was a force.
And the Divine School would have to adapt.