Settle down, Tropers, for an epic tale of the [[Pantheon/TropePantheons Pantheon]]. [[TVtropesWillRuinYourLife Cancel your appointments]], put on some fitting music, and go [[AllThereInTheManual read up on the Pantheon]] so this [[ContinuityPorn makes a lick of sense]].

Writer's note: Now that the story's in full swing, [[@/SabreJustice the author]] is particularly eager to hear some feedback and proposals for sub-chapters. After all, I'm dealing with LoadsAndLoadsOfCharacters here, a good deal of which I don't know much about beyond the Pantheon entry, and I don't want to particularly disappoint anyone.

'''UPDATE!!''': Since Sabre Justice no longer works on this story, The troper by the name of Tropers/SoranTheMan decided to take over the plot, starting with chapter 6. The previous chapters are left untouched, just like Sabre Justice left it.

'''Second Update!!''': Tropers/SoranTheMan is no longer working on the sotry and is letting anyone else to pick up where he left.

'''Third Update!!''': Reboot in the workings.

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'''Prologue: Everyone Loves MrExposition'''

The story begins in [[ALongTimeAgoInAGalaxyFarFarAway a distant (in many ways) land where time and space have very little meaning]], a land [[{{Troperiffic}} built on and running on Tropes]]. Within that land is the kingdom of MarySuetopia, a large and diverse place populated by deities and demigods who had been cast out from the true Pantheon. Unlike the pitiful [[Pantheon/TheFallen Fallen]], most of these gods retain their powers and domains, for they are also gods of Tropes- but [[TropesAreNotGood not the good ones]]. These twisted beings were born of bad writing, [[WhatWereYouThinking bad ideas]], [[{{Jerkass}} bad actions]] or just [[DarthWiki/SoBadItsHorrible all-round badness in some form or another]].

Now, these Disgraces can [[Pantheon/{{Purgatory}} earn redemption]] if they try, but this is increasingly rare- for the [[FatalFlaw key flaw]] of most of them, especially the ones that are [[DesignatedHero nominally good]] is that they [[ProtagonistCenteredMorality consider themselves to always be in the right]], no matter what [[WhatTheHellHero consequences result from their actions]]. Even the Pantheon/GrandUnitedAllianceOfEvil is [[CardCarryingVillain honest about their role]], but the Disgraces, many of whom did't adjust well to not being considered [[BlackHoleSue the centre of the universe]], consider the thrones of the Pantheon to be rightfully theirs, and will do anything to gain them.

Of course, if you happen to be a Pantheon enthusiast, you already know all this. Either way, this is the story of the Disgraces' first fully organised attempt at taking what they perceive to be theirs.

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'''Chapter One: The Cult of Jaws'''

It happened. The Pantheon fell to the Disgraces.

It is not known how they did it, but it was of little matter back then. Most records of what happened during the uprising were lost, destroyed or forgotten as the Disgraces, now calling themselves “The Glorious Ones”, took over the many houses that made up the divine realm. Most of the old gods were slain in battle. Some were executed as others were imprisoned. In worst case scenarios, their remains were either scattered through the multiverse or shown as trophies to be witnessed by mortals and gods alike. Some of the old gods were never present during the fall of their rightful homes to begin with, having seemingly disappeared from the many worlds.

The royal family, The Cullens, was quick to occupy the biggest thrones in the Main House, granting them the highest power that could possibly be achieved. After the other Glorious Ones were assigned to the then vacant houses, they all began to subjugate and enslave the many mortal worlds through either manipulation or force, depending on what seemed most sufficient for each plane of existence. It only took a few years until the majority of reality was under their control. Mortals were forced to pay tribute to their new gods as a vast amount of holy grounds belonging to the former gods were destroyed or desecrated beyond recognition in order to make way for new places of worship, dedicated to The Glorious Ones. The ones who refused were often never seen again.

They seemed unstoppable. Untouchable. Finally having received the might that they sought after all these years, The Glorious Ones thought they had nothing to fear or beware anymore.

But their newfound pride was deceptive. There were still threats out there.

Resistance could still be found in many worlds, led by the followers of the old gods. Most of them were hopeless without their gods’ aid while others were showing promise. Through peace and war, pen and sword, blood and tongue, the fight for freedom was fought valiantly by the many rebellions in the mortal realms. Many lives were lost in these battles and many more were ruined as the clash between rebels and loyalists became harsher by the day.

Some followers of the old gods took this even further than others. They sought to bring back their deities.

---

Many miles from the nearest coast, a large, colorful fishing ship could be found floating around the ocean one cold, star-filled night. Followers of Johnny Turbo owned this vehicle, searching the vast seas in order to find not only fish to sell, but also to find a worthy tribute to the other Glorious Ones. They had become rather demanding about the amount of sacrifices that they should be given. The crew onboard, working for one of the priests of Turbo, was having much luck with catching the fish in the sea, having gathered enough to fill most of the cargo hold with all kinds of small sea life. In the cockpit where the captain was steering the ship to deeper waters, a radio was playing the news, voiced by a young anchor.

--> '''News Anchor''': “A week has passed since the Glorious Sealife Aquarium was the target of an organized robbery where the Jaws of Bruce, a valuable relic of past times, was taken. Despite thorough investigation of evidence, no main suspect has been found by the police. Accusations have been made towards a biker gang called Deadman Inc, but there is yet to be any official word. We tried to contact The US Guard of Coltrane, but we received no comments on the case.”

As the radio continued onto the next story, this one revolving around the growing population of humans that began to convert themselves into Alicorns, a large series of small wooden boats in the distance could be seen moving towards them, floating in the way of the fishing ship. It was not known why such fragile and slow crafts were on such distant waters, nor why they were coming their way. The captain sighed as he began to slow down the vessel before calling on one of his shipmates.

--> '''Captain''': “You there. Tell them to get out of here.”

--> '''Shipmate''': “Understood, Captain.”

The shipmate passed by some fishermen, cleaners and other various members of the crew, holding a megaphone as he made his way to the edge of the ship. He looked down on the approaching mass of 30 boats, each of them carrying two individuals wearing plastic robes, before he activated his megaphone.

--> '''Shipmate''': “Attention. These waters belong to the priests of Turbo. We must ask you to leave before we contact the naval guard.”

The people in the wooden boats gave no heed to the warning as they kept coming closer to the fishing ship. The crew, watching this became confused to what was happening before them.

--> '''Shipmate''': “I repeat! If you do not leave, we will have to call in the naval guard!”

The strange sailors stopped moving their ships, floating right next to them. For a moment, the people on the wooden didn’t move in the slightest. Suddenly, one of them made a quick move, pulling out a grappling hook from his robe before shooting it upwards, letting the sharp metal latch onto the edge of the fishing ship. Before the crew on the fishing ship could comprehend what was going on, the other ships followed suit, firing their hooks at the ship before climbing up towards the deck. It was a hijacking. Only two people on the most distant boat did nothing, simply watching their fellow men and women climb aboard. The crew of the fishing ship began to panic, having no weapons onboard to fight back with.

--> '''Fisherman''': “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK, CAPTAIN! CALL THE NA-“

A gunshot was heard, silencing the retreating crew member with a well-placed bullet to the neck, sending him dead to the ground.

--> '''Captain''': “Oh…my….God…”

The hijackers all pulled out their pistols, firing away at the mass before them until nobody was left standing. The Captain watched in dread from the cockpit as his crew was slaughtered before him, mercilessly killed within less than ten seconds. He began to barricade his door with whatever he could find in the room, but it was not much. All he could do was sending a distress signal, hoping that help would arrive in the form of the Glorious Ones themselves or the navy. As he pulled up the radio, he could hear how the hijackers were already starting to beat down on his door, breaking the hinges with ease.

--> '''Captain''': “HELP! HELP! SOS! HIJACKERS ARE IN OUR SHIP! WE ARE POSI-“

A bullet flew through the thin metal door before it was lodged deeply into the head of the Captain, killing him instantly. Moments later, the door was kicked in by two of the hijackers as they began to search through the room, hearing a voice from the radio.

--> “Come in. Where is your position? Can you hear me, captain?”

Without a single word, one of the hijackers pulled out a knife and stabbed the radio in order to break any contact with whoever was on the other line. On deck, the other hijackers began to search the entire ship, wanting to make sure that there were no survivors who could complicate manners. To their luck, the only living thing they could find was fish and shrimp. One of them walked towards one particular man on deck. He was in his fifties, rather old compared to the rest, but he was also much bigger than most of the others. His skin was dark, highlighted by a white, tribal tattoo of a shark on his face.

--> '''Hijacker''': “We cleared the entire ship, Tonga. There’s nobody left.”

The large man nodded in approval before he looked at the bloody deck, noticing the megaphone on the ground. He picked it up the object before walking towards the edge of the ship, motioning for the last boat to come closer.

--> '''Tonga''': “It is safe now. You may come over.”

The wooden vessel came closer in a slow and steady pace, carrying a large, blue metal box at the rear. A rope was hoisted down to the two last hijackers, allowing them to tie the container to it. Three men pulled up the box with the greatest of care while the last two hijackers used their grappling hook in order to climb up by themselves.

--> '''Tonga''': “Careful! If the relic is destroyed, then all will be lost!”

The box was placed upon deck safely, allowing more of the hijackers to carry it to the room where the dead captain resided. Tonga took a sigh of relief as he watched over the carnage before them. The smell of blood was one that he had missed for a long time. Others were not as enthusiastic however, though they didn’t complaint as Tonga moved to an elevated part of the ship, speaking to his fellow men and women with pride in his voice.

--> '''Tonga''': “Brothers and Sisters. Fellow Cultists of Jaws. Tonight, we have completed the first step of our divine mission. The worst part is over. But now we come to the messiest. Collect the corpses into the cargo hold. Gather the blood. Grab your knifes and gather your saws. Turn these infidels into chum for our god! He needs a familiar meat to taste upon his arrival! But make haste! It will not be long until they catch onto us!”

Without a moment of delay, the hijackers, belonging to the Cult of Jaws, began to pull down the bodies deep into the ship as they brandished their sturdy bone saws and sharp blades. Tonga himself moved towards the cockpit of the ship, steering the ship towards their destination.

--> '''Tonga''': “Let’s hope that the Disgraces favors this man enough…”

---

The morning sun had risen over the warm beaches of Amity Island, a piece of land now belonging to the Glorious Ones. The shores, once seen as a place of vacation and worship, had now become the private property of a priest of Johnny Turbo in order to function as a center for sacrifice and advertisement. Not many civilians lived there, mostly because of the harsh rules that applied to the inhabitants, the high taxes as well as the constant watch from Glorious Ones’ loyalists. Non-humans were completely forbidden to enter due to the xenophobic views of the god who was worshipped there.

The priest in charge of the island was resting on the sands, relaxing with a glass of cola in his hand as he expected the next shipment of fish to arrive. He was planning to sacrifice most of it before selling the rest in shops blessed by his god. Submission to the Glorious Ones proved to be a profitable way of life if one could make it up the ranks. Often it would come at the cost of many people’s freedom.

--> '''Turbo Priest''': “Hope that ship will be late this time…would love to spend more time out here in the sun.”

As the light shined upon his bare, pale chest, he could hear something amongst the calm breeze. He removed his sunglasses as he saw a large watercraft in the horizon. He sighed in disappointment, knowing that it was his ship. The priest got up on his feet and awaited the cargo of fish to be shown to him. He walked towards a pier where the ship would usually stop before moving towards the fish port for delivery.

--> '''Turbo Priest''': “Better not be such a meager catch like before…”

As the ship got closer, he noticed something strange. It was approaching the pier at a very high speed before it started to slow down abruptly. He looked confused as he stood at the edge of the wooden construction, watching as the boat lowered a staircase.

--> '''Turbo Priest''': “What’s the hurry, people? We still have many hours before the moment of sacrifice.”

He walked up the stairs slowly, feeling a bit groggy from his long rest at the beach. As he shook his head, he walked up on deck, noticing that a different crew was on board. His heart began to beat faster as they all gave him a cold and icy stare, one of them moving behind him. He looked at them all, witnessing how they were armed with pistols and harpoon guns as their robes were covered in dried blood. Tonga was amongst them, approaching the priest before holding him by the neck, lifting him up with ease. Two other cultists began to pull out the metal box from its safe place, putting it before them both.

--> '''Tonga''': “Actually, we only have a few minutes, follower of the Disgraces!”

By the mere mention of the outlawed word “Disgraces”, he knew he was in a worst case scenario. He had been abducted by followers of the old gods.

--> '''Priest of Turbo''': “L-Look…it doesn’t have to be like this! I-I can get you good places as servants of The Prayer Warriors! They could need good soldiers!”

The suggestion from the priest was only met with murderous glares from the cultists.

--> '''Cultist of Jaws''': “Our loyalty belongs to few deities. Your false gods are not among them, priest!”

His eyes grew wide in shock and terror as he struggled to get loose from the strong grip, but to no avail. The man before him was simply too strong. The ship was steadily moving towards deeper waters, just a mile outside of the pier. Once the ship stopped, Tonga carried the man to the rear end of the ship, lifting him above the deep blue sea.

--> '''Tonga''': “There is no time! Prepare the relic, brothers and sisters! Unleash the first offering as fast as you can! Loyalist scum may appear at any minute!”

--> '''Cultist of Jaws''': “It shall be!”

Mere moments later, a rumbling noise could be heard as the cargo hold was opened, releasing the contents inside. A foul odor was released into the air as the water behind the ship turned completely red. The priest looked down, witnessing the thousands of pieces of dead fish and shrimp beneath him, upon the once clear waters. He was struggling to keep his dinner from yesterday inside of his stomach. He had felt the smell of rotting fish many times before, but this was different. Something more potent was lingering in the sea.

The lead cultist had a small, sinister smile on his face as the chum was released from the boat. Surely this would be a worthy offering.

--> '''Tonga''': “And now for the second sacrifice!”

Tonga let go of the priest of Turbo, allowing him to fall into the murky blood below. The priest kept swimming, fearing for his life as he tried to swim away from the mass of chum. He did not fear any sharks, knowing that they had stopped showing themselves in this area since the fall of the old gods, but just like most people, he did not fancy the idea of swimming in bloody remain of sea life.

The priest reached the edge of the chum until he felt something strange in his hand. It was hard and a bit sharp due to a strange edge that it carried. Out of morbid curiosity he stopped swimming in order to inspect the object. Upon realization of what it was, he nearly fainted, feeling weak all over his body. It was a human jaw, cut in half, but still had teeth and a tongue attached to it. He was frozen, disgusted and horrified that the cultists above him had done such a morbid act to his crew.

--> '''Tonga''': “Carry out the final piece of the process! Throw in the relic in the chum!”

Three cultists opened the box that they had carried with them for all this time. They pulled out a large object, wrapped in brown leather. They began to feel around it, hoping that they would find no damage around it.

--> '''Cultist of Jaws''': “Those damn bikers have better kept their word on this…”

After a short inspection, they began to remove the leather. The relic underneath was a massive set of shark jaws, big enough to fit an entire human through. It was The Jaws of Bruce, completely unharmed with shiny, sharp teeth to boot. The cultists gathered around it as they lifted it above their heads, feeling a great sensation of joy rushing through them. This would be the moment they waited for. As they moved towards the chummed waters, witnessing the paralyzed priest, they began to count to three. They had to make absolutely sure that they didn’t drop the jaw onto the ships exterior. It had to land into the water.

After the three count, the cultists threw the set of jaws into the water as a loud splash was heard, waking the priest of Turbo from his traumatized state. All of them began to look at the chum, waiting for something to happen. For a few seconds, nothing changed. Some of the cultists began to feel doubtful.

--> '''Tonga''': “Do not despair just yet…I know our allies speak the truth…it will happen soon…”

Suddenly, the priest’s body began to emit a strange light that made the gory chum glow. The priest began to feel even weaker than before as the chum rapidly sank to the bottom of the ocean, still glowing as it seemed to form a large ball near the bottom of the ocean, just where the set of jaws had sunk. The strange glowing mass of fish guts, blood and human remains slowly began to take a familiar and massive shape. A shark, far larger than any fish that was ever alive.

--> '''Cultist of Jaws''': “IT’S HAPPENING! OUR GOD IS RETURNING! ALL HAIL BRUCE!”

As the cultists cheered loudly, the shark beneath them slowly kept growing and forming, becoming less chum and more carcharodon. The bones of humans and fish formed into a shark skeleton as the vast amount of meat and guts formed into flesh. It grew to the size of a megalodon, becoming half a big as the large fishing ship above it. He was far larger than the cultists remembered. All that was missing was its thick hide.

The priest panicked once more, swimming away weakly as the shark kept approaching him from underneath. It stalked its final prey, approaching him in a slow pace. It was long since the God of Sharks ever devoured a human, his favorite meal. It was a delightful sight to once again be on the hunt after all those years of death. As Bruce got closer, he could feel a familiar scent. One that he remembered during his last days of death. It was that of the Disgraces. This priest would make a delicious treat.

With one swift flick of the tail fin, Bruce torpedoed through the surface, grabbing the priest with a bone-shattering bite before diving into the sea once more, devouring the rest of the human. The waters turned red as a light was emitted from the corpse of the priest of Turbo. As this magical illumination shined upon the God of Sharks, his white and gray skin began to regrow. He was complete once more.

The Cult of Jaws cheered yet again in glee, having completed their divine mission. A god from the old Pantheon had returned. Thought it was a small step, it was still a sign that the end of the Disgraces was at hand.

--> '''Tonga''': “We did it, brothers and sisters. The first stepping stone has been placed. Come. Let us leave our god to feast upon the enemy in peace.”

The large fishing ship began to move to different waters, hoping to avoid not only the hunger from Bruce, but also the navy as well, knowing that they would be hunted for this crime against the Disgraces.

---

In the following days, shark attacks began to skyrocket in every world where these mighty beasts could be found. Strangely, the majority of victims turned out to be loyal servants of the Glorious Ones. Many ports were shutting down as countless beaches had to be closed. These sharks seemed to be far stronger than before the resurrection of Bruce, almost at a supernatural level. The Cult of Jaws began to spread the word about their god and how to avoid his wrath, recruiting more members on a steady rate. Islands and coasts belonging to the Glorious Ones were slowly taken by the cult, having taught people how to turn sharks into beasts of war and tame these monstrous fishes in order to build a rebellious army against those who slew their old gods. Followers of Johnny Turbo seemed to be their main target, knowing that their defenses were not too good. Civilians who worshipped the old gods were given a sanctuary by the cult, allowing them to live and thrive on grounds that they conquered with the help of Bruce.

In the divine grounds of the Glorious Ones, there was a small level of worry lingering in the air. Though they have not yet been able to confirm it, they have heard rumors that the gods that they once defeated were returning one by one. The Cullen family, however, had no worries. They believed that there was nothing to fear from a single shark god. With a simple order, they told those gods who was bothered by it to simply increase their defenses and go on with their daily duties.

After all…what were the odds of additional or more threatening gods coming back?

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'''Chapter 2: The Crocflayer Interrogation.'''

Synopsis: A member of the Crockflayers, hunters of crocodiles and weapon-providers of natives in Africa-like worlds, gets interrogated by members of the Disgraces. He tells them about their movement as forces of Xenocelestia investigates The Nile. An ensuing massacre comes along as one of the forgotten and dissapeared gods return to claim his domain.

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'''Chapter 3: Release The Kraken!'''

Synopsis: The Disgraces are deeply worried about the return of Sobek as he keeps claiming river after river in each world he comes across wile the Crockflayers keep providing more weapons to natives. The Cult of Jaws keeps taking more coasts and shores from the Disgraces. What makes it more troubling is when the Disgraces take into account of all the gods they never killed or imprisioned during the Great Battle. Eventually, they decide to send more followers of Turbo to do something about it. That is when they realize that there is a massive ship near some remote islands in a pirate world and the crew consist mostly of mutated pirates. Taking a closer look, [[OhCrap they see that they are building the Capstan Hammer...]]

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'''Chapter 4: Trazyn's Ultimate Catch.'''

Synopsis: The Disgraces has had more temples destoryed by the sea-faring gods, but have started calling in the big guns in order to keep it in check to some degree, reclaiming some areas. Ebony gets the idea of using "som goffik scps" to turn the tide, having gained control over almost every facility of the SCP Foundation during the Great Battle. They then discover that most of the SCPs are gone and that the majority of the guards have been killed. They only find a message from Trazyn The Infinite who explains that he was never killed, but instead used a very convincing body double and that he has most SCPs in his collection. He also explains that he's pretty pissed about the Disgraces having looted most of his old collection that he will get it back somehow. [[FromBadToWorse And to make matters worse]]: he explains that he has a couple of the Pantheon's Gods in stasis, ready to release some of them just to spite the Disgraces.

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'''Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking.'''

Synopsis: Most members of the bikergang named Deadman Inc have been hunted down due to their role in bringing back Bruce. Most survivors have fled to PartsUnknown, a strange land of forests, jungles, seas, islands, tombs etc. They meet up with Druids from The Ministry of Darkness, who have the decayed corpse of TheUndertaker, having for years tried to revive him. Deadman Inc becomes the muscle of the Druids, carrying out tasks in order to find needed goods for the druids. After many months of their assistance, the Druids belive thay have the needed ingredients to bring back Undertaker, but not before vampire goff/imo/satnic mages of Enoby have managed to track them down. Things looks bad with most druids and bikers getting butchered, but then a church bell rings as the land goes dark...

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'''Chapter 6: Nobody Axes a Dwarf!'''

Synopsis: The corpse of Gimli has for years been placed upon a massive pile of rubble that used to be the Walls of The Pantheon, serving as a monument of the Disgraces victory where the God of Dwarfs was killed by his own axe, hence the name of the operation that started it all. It is in a fantasy world that is rarley under attack from enemies of the Disgraces due to the iron grip around this world. But there is one place that is not under their controll: the mines and tunels of the dwarfs. Many dwarfen leaders and people from many other worlds have in secret managed (begrudgingly, with the help of some elven mages) to travel to this world in order to bring back their god. Their plan involves a lot of digging, mead, orc heads, goblin ears and a whole bunch of gunpowder.

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