The Unholy war

Mary rushed to check on Marina, "Are you alright?" she asked, seeing her resting motionless underwater.

"I can understand now, what Cain meant before," Marina said, opening her eyes. "They are mortals, just like us. Their power is but a borrowed one from their believers."

"What do you mean?" Mary glared down at her.

"Those who we call gods are but mortals. Their power is the accumulation of the energy they receive from their believers." Marina swam to the surface with her tentacles like an octopus.

"The more believers a god has, the more powerful he will get." She lifted her staff, "And if an adequate number of people venerated a single mortal, a god is born from their belief."

"What are you saying?" Mary approached, "Are you saying my father isn't a god?"

"Yes, he isn't one. God is dead, or more precisely, absent." Marina looked down at the water. The priestess of Eilistraee glared at her with a raging eye.