Wordlessly, Azathoth places his hand on the back of one of his sculptures and tips it forward into the greedy waiting hands of the machine. It drags the art piece away, as another tendril of the machine offers payment in a flat metal coin piece. Metal from the machine.

Azathoth doesn't pay it any mind, tipping another piece forward for the machine to catch. Another coin is offered. Another piece pushed down. Another offer ignored.

The next time Azathoth tries to push his work to the waiting hand of the machine, the machine pushes back. "Dude what are you doing? Take your payment."

Annoyed, Azathoth grabs each coin and drops them to the floor in session before pushing his statue of human architecture forward. He does not speak. Worried his voice...his mother's voice would harm any listeners.

But Barley pushes back slightly. "Not that it's my concern but why are you selling all your art?"

There was something odd about Barley. Azathoth couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt like he could talk to him. As if Barley had an unexplainable power behind him. With great caution, Azathoth speaks. "Because in truth, I hate art."

Barley is unaffected by Azathoth's words. "Obviously a lie. You clearly put a lot of effort into these pieces."

"So what! I put my heart, my soul, and all my time into these, all so I could fail to impress my singular mothers and be an ignored god!"

"No way, you disappointed your parents and failed to be an artist too? The same thing happened to me."

"But your art looks pretty good. Can't you just make it solo?"

"You don't understand! I don't like art AT ALL!"

"I just wanted to be a success and do what my mothers asked, and now everything is a mess."

"Now I'm my own mothers!"

"No one liked my art. Not my mothers, not critics, not even me!"

"Are you sure you don't just hate your art because you've failed your goals?"

"I like the feeling of madness and horror it induces in onlookers."

"But if I want to induce such madness and horror, maybe I should just pull out a knife on someone! I'd get the same effect but sooner."

"I don't think that's reasonable."

"You're right. It isn't. I'm just reflecting my utmost agitation with it all! I mean, do you know who I am!"

"Nope."

"I AM A GOD THAT CANNOT BE FORGOTTEN A GO-"

"Wait what? What do you mean you don't know who I am?"

"Never met you in my life."

"I'm Azathoth?"

"Never heard of you."

"I sold you a car in the past, or bullied you in high school? Maybe I was your teacher or your neighbor?"

"I think I'd remember someone like you if I met you."

"You....do not know me? Azathoth? God of déjà vu?"

"Gesundheit."

("That's tourist for "I don't know."")

"You....have no expectations of me......I.....feel a sudden relief. A burden off my shoulders. Everyone I go to, they believe me to be this or that. They EXPECT things of me that I am not!"

"And now I've met a person who finally doesn't know me, and the first thing I've done is make a fool out of myself with my issues!"

"It's alright. I recently got out of a situation like that myself. I uh, used to be into crypto."

"Isn't that a scam?"

"Please don't say it so bluntly. I'm still recovering emotionally, and financially."

"I used to believe in my project, Blockmons. I thought if I just gave it my all that people would just naturally like it. That I would get the attention I deserved."

"But...not only did people hate them, but I think the only people who liked them just liked them because they were an investment. You have to like your investment no matter what."

"So you hated your work too?"

"Hmmm." Barley thinks about this for a moment. Tilting his head in thought. "I want to say I hated my work, but I think that's only because I hated that they weren't getting attention."

"Blockmons are a marvel. They can do things most art can't."

Barley nods his head solemnly. "But I get it now. My art wasn't going anywhere. No one cared much about what I thought."

"I spent over 20 years of my life making the art, because I wanted to make sure I didn't copy. Cause machines can't "make art" because all they do is "copy." So I made sure I couldn't possibly copy. I drew lines at random, then picked the random lines that best worked and I made art." Barley holds out a blockmon.

"What does this look like to you?"

"Uh well....."

"It's ok you can be honest."

"It looks like you drew a bunch of lines at semi random and placed them next to each other. No offense."

"......................" Barley doesn't want to say it, even now that he is "over it." It still hurts to say it. "Yeah. Cause it is."

"Well, I suppose I've never seen anything like it before....."

"Thanks for being nicer than most folks about it. Most people just tell me it has no soul. Made me really want this "soul thing." Started hungering for it. I was really on the edge. Really wanted to get "Soul" into my art. Then I met my idol, the man I've been always trying to be. Real counter culture kind of style, but you know what I learned?"

"He was just a normal guy."

"Here I am putting my all into my work, when the guy whose work feels like "everything" is just....normal."

"Spending years chasing expectations that don't exist.....Like me spending my ages chasing expectations brought upon me for being born who I am."

"Yeah. So like, you don't have to get rid of all your art. I'm sure there's a few pieces you like, for like, yourself."

"Orginally I was mad at my blockmons, but, I think like, whatever you know? Maybe I'll just make blockmons for myself. Maybe add some new flair to them now that I don't need to care about what people think."

"I wish I could say the same. But I have never felt love truly for my works. I detest sculpting with all my heart, ever since I saw a sculpture move after I created it, I could only think about how many flaws I had gave it."

"If.......If I could do my own work for once, I would like to......Oh this is going to sound silly, but maybe data entry would be nice."

"Uh, that's kind of boring."

"I AM A GOD OF MEMORY."

"Why would a god of memory ever be interested in art! Memory is all about saving data to bring back later. Data entry is relaxing. I like it. I can watch videos while doing it."

"Ah, sorry, now that you put it that way, a god of memory would like data entry......"

"What do you do when you realize your life up to this point has been for naught? That all your hopes and dreams were fabrications for someone else?"

"Start over."

"Yeah, easier said than done, but what else are you going to do? Keep hurting yourself by doing what you don't want to do?"

"I think you can get into data entry, man. It's not that hard to do."

"Not that hard to do?"

"Err maybe it is hard to do, I don't know!"

"It just seems easy to me. But uh. I'm a machine so...." Barley shrugs.

"HAHAHA!! IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO DO! THAT IS WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO HEAR!"

"I am tired of all these complex jobs. Give me this simple job that I cannot fail! The praise I will gain will be wonderous. Art is delightful, but I prefer to look, not be the failing artist my mothers feel shame over."

"And let me take the job of mind broken data entrants! They don't deserve such a wonderful position if they cannot appreciate the flawlessness of a sheet with every entry checked for errors!"

"Yeah that's the spirit man!"

"Is the current great god, the Divided, working in data entry absurd, sure, but it is my life. Maybe I will even cause a cult of data entry to form around them."

"One day I will be able to confront my mothers, but today is not that day! And nor will tomorrow be it either!"

"That being said. I have come to realize that you are a god like me and well, I do believe I have something that belongs to you." Azathoth opens his mouth, and pulls out a ripped up pink blanket.

"What is that?"

"The less questions you ask the longer I can dearly cling to this newly formed friendship between you and me. So lets just not ask how your other half of your godly pantheon got into my gullet, agreed?"