[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]
Jay closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and for a moment, he let himself just feel his wants. He didn’t have a choice whether or not to feel them, perhaps; they were washing over him unbidden, a deep hunger, every frustration and longing welling up from a bottomless pit he’d kept deeply stoppered for so many years—but he let himself think it was a choice regardless.
He wanted to save the world, of course, that was his most immediate thought, and the biggest contradiction with the flute, the thing, the creature in his hands, begging him to play it. He knew he could save the world by giving the flute up, returning it to its proper place with the blind god in the center of the cosmos—but he knew, too, because it told him, that he could save the world by playing it. If he conducted those masses of amorphous gods elsewhere, they would not be free to roam into his reality, except in the ways he let them.
But then, it wouldn’t be his reality any longer. The gods would come with him, and he would need to leave to keep the world safe.