The young god's hand comes into its own. A cast is no longer a single touch — you choose its reach and its strength, you see what it did, and the world's people remember the acts they witness. This is the largest step yet toward a hand that feels like an act of god.
A hand with weight and reach. Shape every cast before you make it — how far it reaches, how hard it presses, from a whispered touch to a world-shaking decree — and see its exact mark on the land while you aim.
See what your touch did. The moment a cast lands, the world shows you what changed — the ground it moved, the lives it turned.
Witnessed, and remembered. When a settlement sees your work, its people give the act a name and carry it down the years — even the children who watched the mountains rise.
Each power its own. The ten powers each look and sound like themselves now, and some acts — a calamity, a blight — leave a scar on the land that does not fade.
Read the living world. Rest your gaze on any stretch of land to read it, heed the signs it gives before trouble comes, and see it through new eyes — its soil, its warmth.
A world that needs you. Each age opens under the abundance of its making — a season of grace that slowly wanes — then presses back harder as the centuries turn; and a devoted people repay a measure of the power you pour into them.
Ages you began before this update carry over — the world simply retells them under its new, deeper rules.