As the room exploded into incessant chatter, Mark raises his hand to signal quiet. The occupants are suddenly much more amenable to listening and being patient despite their obvious itch to talk about their biblical experience.
"To answer the question on your mind, yes. That was Him. Now, I don't know what you experienced, but this is very real." He says this while looking at their shining eyes that are filled with an indescribable mixture of envy and admiration.
He continues, "We have a mission to work towards for a very long time. I've chosen you all as people I love and trust, so, I need us to work together to build a world that's ready for a new future."
His sister, Selena, looks him in the eye and asks a question that couldn't be answered by the visions shown by God. "What are you going to do in this 'new' future, be some sort of king?"
The room freezes up at that question. It was reasonable, however, as Mark was being handed near ultimate power unattainable by anyone else in history. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
The older adults in the room understood that despite how Mark was as a person now, he would likely change drastically as the years pass by and he becomes more and more powerful both societally and personally. Hell, they themselves are much different from how they were in their twenties, not to mention centuries or millennia.
"Look, I'm not going to have all the answers… I need you all here to help guide me with your wisdom and input. This will be a group effort. But, yes." He gathers himself and looks at Selena straight in the eyes. "I do plan on ruling."
Several eyes widen at that statement. Others look on as if it was expected, Mark's parents included.
God had shown the group a third person perspective of Mark's entire interaction with God, from the moment he put the gun up to his head to when Mark's metamorphosis began. Though, the group couldn't see God's face and only barely glimpsed at his eyes, which sparked an innate terror that their minds instantly sealed away like a bad dream. Only those who had awakened their physique could barely remember what they looked like.
So, they knew what the future held for them and the timescale and personal power they might one day hold. Some couldn't conceptualize the idea of walking among the cosmos and holding the power of the Sun in the palm of their hands, but they did know what could be done by a group of people who lived forever: Accumulate power unlike any other in human history.
Power was not a foreign concept to this group. In 2025, the idea of power and those who held it was heavily documented and studied. History had a funny way of repeating certain themes that showcased how power changed people, groups, or governments.
To hear Mark admit his plans to essentially conquer the world was a bit shocking, but not unrealistic. They waited with bated breaths as one question hung at the forefront of all their minds: What will he do with this power?
"I believe you all know that I'm a bit of an idealist. I want the individual and the group to prosper, but I recognize that it's a goal that is far too distant to implement now. So, I want all of us, after attaining a certain degree of accomplishment in cultivation, to change the system that's been built since the dawn of human history."
Mark inhales as a calm look appears on his face, the tension in the room rising. His posture straightens and he looks at every single person in that room with an obsessive glint in his eyes. He releases that deep breath as the tension is cut like a hot knife on butter, "I want to build an eternal universal empire. And I want you all to do it with me."
Part of his physique began to awaken at this moment. Mark's declaration of his desire to rule and change the world unlocked a small remnant of God's gaze. His eyes shine with the myriad colors of the universe, containing a small indication of time, space, and entropy that sent shivers down the spines of all who looked into them.
Those who had not undergone the baptism instinctively looked away from his eyes and slightly bowed their heads. Meanwhile, his parents and girlfriend felt an indescribable primal pressure fall upon their souls like a weight.
Why did those eyes look like… God's? Grace was shaken as she put together the similarities between her son and the being that could make all this happen. Her analytical mind began silently picking away at the implications of his words, actions, and his deep connection to God.
Mark, unaware of the change in his eyes suddenly felt a weight lift off his chest. He let's an easygoing and natural smile cross his face as his eyes revert back to the deep brown. I'm just glad we're past that hump, and can actually begin.
Mark didn't know, but his Divine Genesis Physique didn't encompass a certain theme like all the others. He isn't attuned towards a certain aspect of the physical/metaphysical universe, rather, his body was constantly evolving to emulate God, unlocking certain aspects of God's body as time goes on and his strength improves.
Every breakthrough in both cultivation and mindset, directly affected his soul. Every time he shatters his mental or physical limits, he attunes himself to the rhythm of the universe and its creator. He his always priming himself to one day ascend to true Godhood.
After the small crowd calmed down, everyone realized that their short-term questions were answered, and they would have to discuss the long-term course of action at a later date.
With a wide grin and innocent eyes, Mark announces the beginning of the baptism of physiques, "Sweet dreams y'all, this will not be pleasant!"
…
They did not wake all at once.
Mark noticed the change before the movement. Hair that had been brown or blonde had shifted in hue, some deepening, some paling, others changing entirely. Faint markings traced themselves along exposed skin, lines and symbols that looked less like tattoos and more like something that had always been there, just hidden too deep to see.
William stood near the window, arms crossed tight against his chest. The glass beside him fogged faintly, though the room was not cold.
The first to wake did so with a sharp inhale.
Selena bolted upright, eyes wide, hands clawing at the carpet as if grounding herself. When she looked up, her eyes shone with an unfamiliar clarity, the whites brighter, the brown pupils now a vivid blood red. She touched her face, then her hair, fingers trembling.
"What the fuck was that?" she asked, voice hoarse. She had never had to experience pain or discomfort that deep before, and her intuition was screaming at her that it wouldn't be the last time.
Before Mark could answer, someone else stirred awake.
Brad sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off a long swim. Pale, curved markings traced along his forearms, barely visible unless the light hit them just right. A faint dampness clung to his skin, the air becoming ever so slightly more humid with every breath he took.
"I feel heavy," he muttered. His already bulky 6'4" body and straight brown hair becoming even taller at 6'7" with even more pronounced muscles.
Another woke without a sound.
Jack opened his eyes and simply sat there. His hair had lightened to a muted gray, not aged, just drained of all color. When Mark looked at him, the room felt smaller, quieter, as if he was looking at the end of a long road.
One by one, the others followed. Confusion. Awe. Unease. No one screamed. No one laughed. Each of them bore some subtle mark, some shift that could not be mistaken for a simple change in style.
Mark stood at the center of it all, the weight in his chest heavier than it had been before. Seeing everyone fundamentally change before his eyes was both exciting and nerve wracking. He, of all people, knew how weird and disorienting it was to wake up in what was essentially a different body.
None of them would experience a personality change, but having your experience of the world and its intricacies altered would inevitably change your perception, which would change thoughts, which changes words, and finally changes actions. Whatever God had given them was not awake yet, but it was waiting. Waiting for Qi.
"Good evening everyone." Mark's voice had taken on a solemn tone, aware of the pain he'd put them all through. "I'm sorry that you had to experience… that."
No one misunderstood what he was referring to. Though they intrinsically knew that it was necessary, the recency of that experience made it difficult to feel anything less intense than their current trauma.
Still, no one responded. Lost in their own worlds, just processing the pain. Chet and Carolynn were hugging their daughters, Sophia and Olivia; Nate had a tight jaw and eyes staring straight at Mark, complex but ultimately grateful; Michael closed his eyes with furrowed brows, though breathing at an even pace. Everyone was taking a moment to just breathe and collect themselves.
Finally, everyone gathered their bearings and focused on Mark, but the thick tension lingered in the room.
With a small chuckle, he starts, "Well, just so you know, we all had to experience basically the same thing. So, find some comfort in that."
The awkward joke lands flat, but his point was communicated: they were not alone.
"Take your time to get used to your new body, and also prepare to either explain away your new face and body as plastic surgery and good dieting, or coordinate with my parents on disappearing to bumfuck nowhere."
And that was the plan. Unfortunately, it's incredibly difficult to extricate oneself from society at large without complications that could garner more attention than just staying put would cause. However, it was absolutely necessary to move somewhere else before nosy people wanted to poke around the neighbors who now looked like Greek gods.
The best option would be to slowly withdraw and eventually fully relocate to a large plot of land where they can focus on making money, and finding a way to mask their future immortality from those around them and most importantly, the government.
This is gonna have to be a group project…