Stephan lifted up his foot and placed it over where there had been a large number of people. He pressed down and barely felt the splatter of blood or cracking of bones of the victims. He could have them worship him, but what good were the little shits anyway?
People fled everywhere, but with simple hand gestures he “magically” pushed them into a large pile, which was still small enough to fit under his foot completely, but that would be too easy for them. They needed to suffer.
He walked over to the pile, turned around and sat on it. He felt them all squirm underneath his butt, which he rubbed forward-and-back and side-to-side. The tiny people had no value to Stephan. They weren’t gods, but he was.
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