'Next'
'Oh, that, that's me... thank you for seeing me.'
'Yeah, yeah', I sighed. 'Name?'
'God'
'Yeeaah. Ok... see him?' point to Anubis. 'He's a god. Her?' Point to a cat in a station master's uniform. 'A god. Them?' Point to a fox. 'God. And that funky one that looks like an old man, then a young one, with holes in his hands and feet, then turns into a spirit? Yeah. You guessed it.' I rubbed my eyes and sighed in frustration. I never should have taken this job
'Let's try this again. Name?'
'B-Baal'
'Okay, Baal. Just what do you...' I was interrupted by him opening up an attache case and producing a picture.
'Here's a picture of me in statue form when I was popular!'
Looking, you are horrified to see a tall gangly thin being with a phallus over half it's body length at full attention.
'I was...'
'Let me guess, a god of fertility.'
'YES! Have you heard of me, perhaps?'
'No. Lucky guess.'
'Wow, you ARE good!'
Aw, human damn it, this son of a bitch is getting on my nerves already.
'I... I still have what it takes, so to speak. Do you want to...' He gets up and unbuttons his
trousers.
'NO!... er, no, thank you. Have you tried the Adult film industry?' I mutter under my breath.
'Yeeaah, I, I did... Now kinda on the run... for murder... impaling.'
'Of course.' Son of a... why do they give me the impossible cases!? 'Look, I'm very busy with a large case load today, so let's just cut to the chase, shall we?' I look at Baal and see him nodding enthusiastically. 'Good. Do you have any followers?'

'Erm, one, but he's very elderly and in Hospice. So I was referred here by Inanna.'

'Okay, then. First, I think we need a little PR work. I mean, you can't just go around waving
your... ahem, member around. The times have changed in the last few centuries.'

'Oh, oh dear me,' Baal wrung his hands and looked at his feet. 'That seems to be one of the things I'm very good at...'
'Of course it is... why wouldn't it. There's no place anywhere where you can... wait a minute...' You narrow your eyes and lean forward over your desk at him. 'Have you heard of the Kanamara Matsuri?'
'The what? I'm sorry sir, I don't quite follow.'

'How would you feel about taking a trip to Japan?'

The old ways just were not working. You can pay or even make people worship but true belief, true worship, that's harder. With no true worshipers gods were still fading. So when I asked for a meeting with the board to discuss a new idea to preserve and empower old gods they were skeptical but, gave me an opening.

My concept was simple, steal a concept from fallen Hollywood has beens, 'rebranding'. A simple concept really. Take an old god, take their old specialty and rebrand it to work in the modern age along with a new name that modern people can easily grasp. The board was skeptical but gave me the opportunity to test my theory and gave me my choice of those endangered of disappearing. Honestly, I took the easy win. Abeona, the Roman goddess of outward Journeys with safe passage. She was just unable to keep a good hold in the modern world so, time for a 'rebranding'. She didn't mind a name change as well and so, Asphalta was reborn. Goddess of roads and safe passage. Skin as dark as asphalt, hair grey like concrete with streaks of yellow and white. Add a few catchy phrasings like "Why call out to a busy Jesus to take the wheel with millions of others when Asphalta has been safely guiding those who ask since before Jesus was born?" or "Aphalta for the traffic light you need." and we just needed to let it catch. Sire, people might laugh at the billboards but they would remember and talk among their friends. Even if just making jokes to start.

And that along with one lucky video of an out of control car suddenly straightening out and coming to a safe stop was actually all it took. Suddenly 'Our lady of the roads' was on the lips of every overworked hourly worker running late for their second job, every kid trying to make curfew, every idiot who forgot to fill up was praying to make it to the next gas station, every bad driver praying not to wreck in the rain or on the ice...Asphalta went from fading to brilliantly radiant with the power of worshipers prayers. Shrines even started being erected at rest stops and the DMV.

That was all it took and now, my life sucks. Minor cog of the organization to a department head with a schedule around the clock, dang night time deities. Assigning PR managers to gods and making sure they do their jobs; rebranding the near forgotten, bringing those on the borders to the main stream and even getting some into movies playing themselves to revitalize old brands. Ha, rather than competing with all the other goddesses of marriage and childbirth I rebranded Hera as the goddess of cheated on wives and being your own woman. She has her own talk show a counseling organization and a mansion/women's recovery center now that apparently would rival the temples of Olympus.

That's the least of my worries though. Turns out when Gods beg your favor, when Gods give even the smallest prayers of thanks...you take on a glow of your own.

Cookies were always the best way to attract recruits. I glared at the Butterfly Scouts set up across from me in the grocery store entrance. They sat there all cute in their uniforms ready to lure unsuspecting marks into their web of lies and chocolate covered shortbread. My stand was classy, we had chocolate covered pretzels and lemon squares like mature, sophisticated hustlers. I fingered the empty space on my sash. All these badges I’d earned and still this one eluded me.

“This is never going work.” Stampy pouted, nearly invisible next to me.

“People love carbs and sugar, it’ll work. Have some faith.”

“No faith, that’s why I’ve debased myself to working with your pathetic organization.” He pouted some more.

“Our firm has a strong reputation for success. Don’t give up yet.” Aha! A bus of white haired grannies fresh from their retirement village, clutching grocery lists written on the back of used envelopes and plans to buy highlighters for their grandchildren to unwrap as a birthday gift. They slowly, slowly dismounted the bus steps with their canes and walkers. The damn Butterfly Scouts sat up in anticipation but they were going to be disappointed. All these grannies likely had granddaughters that had already fleeced them for cookies already.

“Pardon me, ladies!” I shouted over the whine of low hearing aid batteries. “May I interest you in a lemon square and a wonderful opportunity to help a disenfranchised entity?” I held out my powdered covered bait and a pamphlet.

“You’re a little old to be a Butterfly Scout.” A blue hair with cataract sunglasses took my lemon square and went into the store without hearing my spiel. The grannies cleared out most of my lemon square tray and went into the store. The scouts smirked at me from across the concrete, smugly checking off the orders they’d just made on their stupid smug order sheets. I refilled my tray and tried to tempt a mother with a pair of toddlers with a treat. That was a lost cause. The kids started screaming at the sight of my open air sugar and the mother was clad in haute couture leggings. She would be on a diet. They were all always on a diet.

“Stop going for the old women. I need someone with longevity.” Stampy sulked.

“That mother wasn’t old.” I pushed the pretzels into better view and tried to tempt the grocery cart collectors into hearing my pitch.

“She looked old.” This god was such a defeatist. I couldn’t wait to be rid of him. I’d gotten stuck with his case because I was the best. I’d been able to find a worshiper for my past three accounts. The god of polystyrene had been a difficult one. I’d gotten a whole fast food chain to ignore EPA standards and worship that foamy bastard. I wasn't proud per se but it was still a victory. I’d even found a home for the god of 3rd Grade Recorders. If I ever had to sit through a piercing rendition of “Hot Cross Buns” again rip off my own ears, but I sold that squeaky behemoth and by gods I would sell this one too.

The sun was going down and I began to think about how I would changed tactics tomorrow. Maybe I could put together a few educational school assemblies. That took time and permits and background checks but I could do it.

“What are you selling anyway?” One of the Butterfly Scouts shouted across to me as she counted her winnings for the day.

“Stamps.” I answered. Stampy was trying not to cry in the seat next to me.

“Like ink pads and rubber crafts? That’s weird.” Her little scout friend scoffed.

“No. Stamps that you put on a letter.” Both scouts looked at me in confusion. “Like, to write a friend in another state.” Now they looked at each other in confusion. “A letter that arrives in the mailbox, with a note that has stories and jokes and maybe an invitation to write them back?” More confusion. “Okay, these stamps,” I held out a sheet with hearts on them, “you put them on a letter and can send it to someone all without using a single screen or computer.” Stampy still sulked and tried to hold in his tears. I sensed I might have a sale and started a campaign speech that included sparkly gel pens, trips to craft stores, scented paper, origami, and the potential for glitter and stickers.

The scouts were hooked.

“Only thing you need to make each other official pen pals…is this,” I held up the sheet of stamps, “stamps. What do you say?” Stampy’s eyes gleamed with the glimmer of long lost hope. The scouts’ mothers were thrilled with the idea that their children would be occupied with a non screen activity and that they themselves would not be required to write any physical letters. One mother proffered that it had the potential to be a perfect patch earning activity.

I sat back and relished in a victorious lemon square victory as the scouts dragged their parents to the stationary store with Stampy glittering behind them in the sun. A shiny new patch on my own sash that proudly proclaimed ‘Forever’ in the bottom corner.

Later that night my firm called me up again, I had a new client. The thin wispy thing appeared in my living room. “Hello, I’m the god of drive in movies.”

“Come on in and let’s talk strategy.” I was the best.

The first insight came from AI.

A virtual object's persistence required one of two things to be true. The first and most simple is is a self preserving statement in it's definition. Call it a desire to persist or a resistance to change. If it 'wants' to live on, it will keep it's shape each iteration.

AI adapts and changes a large field of information which is changed from the information within interacting with it's rules. A virtual object resistant to change is somewhat of an anchor, but can still be affected by other virtual object's influence.

The second way a virtual object can be maintained is through projection, or external maintenance. It's a much stronger protection when one virtual object maintains others because the objects being maintained cannot have their own influence disrupted as easily because they're "saved" remotely. This has a cost however. A maintenance protocol cannot be allowed to self maintain, or else it can cause a corrupting influence if it's interfered with by another virtual object.

In ages past, there were people interested in metaphysics. Consider them savants for catching on to patterns that nobody else did. They didn't have computers around as a representation for nested interactions, or really have much idea what was going on. They did however notice they could affect things around them in ways that didn't make sense so long as they abided certain rituals. You see, the world itself is something we can can virtual so far as it has a set of rules which allow for things to be maintained from within.

Some of these metaphysics had caught on to the fact they could help others so long as they made it their sole wish to keep them safe and made sure to regularly check in on them. Usually this effect came to people naturally, but the metaphysically minded were drawn to these patterns of interaction for their desire of understanding. It turns out that doctors, shamans, priests, etc all have the same thing in common regardless of their rituals or practices in the way they interact with the fundamental foundation of existence.

You can save others. It's just like hitting the save button! You do this at the cost of saving yourself, so you have to hope someone else does the same for you.

Fast forward to today and these teachings are the asking most important thing we convey to all our children! We're called the savior's college and our mission is to make sure nobody is left behind who risks their life to save others! There are many strange phenomena still being uncovered, but we are going to be much more safe while we explore them now.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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