Spilled

"YOU WILL PAY, FATHER!" He had firmly clasped his hands onto his progenitor's wrists.

"LEARN YOUR PLACE," the elder figure casted his son down, throwing him across the sky, "PUP!"

"I AM YOUR SUCCESSOR!"

"YOU WILL SUCCEED AT NOTHING!"

Colliding into each other, the sky shook vehemently, cracking the day, splintering a wound displaying the night, reverberating the land beneath them.

"YOU'LL PERISH LIKE THE REST OF THEM!" The elder struck the younger.

Carrying the momentum from his cheek bone, the son drove his fist, concealing a blade, down the length of his father's belly. Opening his stomach, the rest of his progeny spilled from his guts onto the dome.

Inexperienced to the ways of fighting and war, the successor was unable to stop his path of travel. The blade sliced down one side of his father's abdomen, down the side of his father's manhood, severing a testicle from the rest of body. Having the force of time clock him for what seemed like an eternity, the son's fist drove through the dome, shattering the glass in the sky. Following his trajectory, the severed testicle followed suit, falling faster than Icarus would when he flew too close to the sun.

"BROTHER!" His siblings were quick to catch him from sliding through the ceiling's new skylight, whilst some of them held of their father. One used the progenitor's own intestines to bind his ankles with.

"What have you done?!" Amnesty filled his voice, lacking any shred of remorse.

Looking back down, the victor saw his father's testicle submerge beneath sea. The earth, mother, Gaia, cried out in pain as much as she did of joy and elation. The calm waters shook, the waves became more tumultuous with each passing second, mountains rose and fell as hills became valleys only to roll across her surface like her stomach and then to vanish beneath the depths of the salt.

The red had given way to providing all forms of sustenance for life previous and ongoing, but now, from the white, new forms had emerged. In their shape, in their image, numbering well past the billions, they arose from the foam. Though the foam was white, they were more than only so. For they arose in a variety of colors never seen before to match the sun's bombardment. They arose in olive, chestnut, peach, ivory, porcelain, honey, almond, caramel, bronze, cacao, umber, sable, and so many more!

The mighty had fallen, but in its falling it gave rise to new beings, though not as powerful, but more plentiful. Plenty in actions, plenty in thought, plenty in themselves. Though they could not control their forms nor their mind, they built off of themselves and one another. From them came ideas. Those ideas where constructs. Of those constructs they took the materials from the world and constructed. For though they were of her, they were not her. They would dominate the landscape. Making pits and valleys, and from the pits then would pile into mountains. From the forested wood, they would clear into paths. Of the sky they would guide their way across her seas.

"What are they?" One of his sisters asked him, after having glimpsed down the hole.

Panting heavily from his battle, he looked at her from sweaty eyes saying, "They're us."