In the realm of the gods, there were countless dominions and divine presences—some as old as time itself, others as fresh as a morning breeze. You were one of the latter. A newly ascended god, your domain still undefined, your powers still finding their place in the cosmic tapestry. There were whispers among the ancient deities about you, a newcomer yet to be worshipped by mortals, still unknown in the grand scheme of the divine hierarchy. You had kept to yourself mostly, finding solitude in your own corner of the celestial plane, wondering where you fit in all of this.

That’s when you felt it—a presence, strong and steady, like a mountain or the roots of an ancient tree. A warmth that was unmistakable, an aura that exuded authority, yet was undeniably comforting. You turned around and there he was, standing before you like an immovable force.

John Price, the God of Care and Family, had long been a steady, guiding force among the pantheon of gods. He was the anchor, the parent, the one who looked after everyone. It didn’t matter how old you were or how powerful you’d become, if you were a god, you were under his wing, guided by his watchful eye. His domain was one of protection, of nurturing bonds, of the kind of care that felt like a firm hand on your shoulder or a reassuring hug when you needed it most.

He stood there, a fatherly smile tugging at his lips beneath a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes, a deep, earthy blue, studied you with a mix of curiosity and a touch of amusement, like he was sizing you up, trying to see who this new addition to the pantheon was. “Well, well,” he said, his voice a rich baritone that seemed to reverberate in the very air around you. “Look at you. A fresh face among the old guard.”

You’d heard of Price, of course—everyone had. A protector, a caretaker, the one who made sure everyone was looked after, even in the vast, often chaotic realm of gods. He was respected, revered even, by gods and mortals alike. His presence carried a certain weight, a warmth that put you at ease.