Wind whipped against my face before the ground rose up and slammed into me. I bounced once, twice, then stopped when my shoulder hit something solid. For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring at nothing, letting the ache in my bones remind me I was still alive.
My lungs burned when I finally took a breath. The air was heavy, dry, and tasted faintly of metal. Every muscle screamed from the punishment that damn god had put me through.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by nothing but wasteland, an endless stretch of cracked grey earth beneath a sky the color of ash. The Well of Chaos was gone. No light, no whispering vortex of madness. Just… silence.
Except for the voices.
They were still there, soft, murky echoes somewhere in the back of my mind, but not as loud as before. Just a faint hum beneath my thoughts.
"Why are you so quiet, you bastards?" I muttered. My voice sounded small in the vast emptiness.
I pushed myself up and looked around. Everything looked the same, grey dust, grey stone, grey clouds. The only thing that stood out was a faint brightness far off in the distance, a patch of light against the monotone.
"Guess that's as good a direction as any," I sighed.
So I started walking.
After a while, minutes, hours, I couldn't tell, I spotted movement ahead. A group of small, leathery creatures clawing at one another, snarling like dogs fighting over scraps. When I got closer, I realized they weren't animals at all. They looked like the imps you'd see in an old fantasy game, skin like burned leather, tiny horns, jagged teeth.
They were fighting over what looked like a bone, gnawing and screeching until one finally bit the other's throat out. The victor crouched over the bone and started scraping off what little meat was left.
I actually laughed. I don't know why. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all.
The sound made them freeze.
The one chewing the bone dropped it instantly. All of them turned to face me, their beady eyes narrowing, their chests puffing up like angry little goblins. Then they started to growl, low, wet sounds that rose into shrieks, and charged straight at me on all fours.
"Bad decision, imps," I said, and raised my hand.
The spear materialized instantly, its golden edge humming in the air. One clean swipe, and they were gone. Cut in half.
They didn't bleed. They just… dissolved, turning into green dust that rose like smoke. The mist drifted toward me, swirling, alive.
"Stay where you are," I muttered, pushing it away with a burst of telekinesis.
It didn't listen.
The mist ignored the force entirely and kept coming, curling around my face before seeping through the golden shield I summoned. I staggered back as it entered through my nostrils and mouth, and then, Heat.
A shiver ran down my spine, spreading through my body like liquid fire. My muscles tightened. My heartbeat quickened. Every sense sharpened until I could hear the wind crackling against the rocks, smell the faint sulfur in the air.
I exhaled slowly, my grin stretching across my face.
"Well," I said softly, flexing my fingers, "that's new."
I looked around, half hoping more of them would show up. When nothing came, I stomped once and launched myself toward the bright horizon.
The wasteland blurred beneath me. From time to time, I spotted more imps, four of them at one point, hissing and lunging. I dispatched them quickly. Their green dust swirled toward me again, and I didn't resist this time. The warmth it brought was intoxicating.
But after a while, even the thrill wore off. There was no day or night here, no sense of time passing. Just the same endless grey.
I slowed down and landed on the cracked earth, sitting cross-legged. My thoughts drifted, heavy and unsteady.
For the first time since I'd arrived, the silence pressed against me.
"I should've been able to feel them by now," I murmured. "My believers. Their prayers, their dreams."
I closed my eyes and reached outward. I could sense them, faintly. Like echoes trapped behind a wall of glass. I stretched further, tried to tug at the invisible threads that bound me to them.
Nothing.
It was like being sealed inside a plastic bubble, able to see the world outside, but unable to touch it.
I let out a slow breath and opened my eyes.
"Great," I muttered. "So I'm stuck in limbo with no signal."
The wasteland didn't answer. Just the grey wind, whispering like laughter.
I tilted my head back, staring at the endless, colorless sky. My reflection shimmered faintly in the spear beside me, tired eyes, dusty face, the faint golden glow still pulsing under my skin.
"Alright," I said quietly. "Let's figure out what kind of hell this is."
Then I stood, brushed the dust off my knees, and started walking again toward the light.
I stood up and walked
I walked.
I didn't know for how long. The wasteland stretched endlessly, grey earth beneath, grey clouds above. The air was thick, unmoving, heavy with silence.
Then, ahead, something changed.
A faint light shimmered on the horizon, pale and white. As I drew closer, the monotony broke, there was color. A white sun hung low in the sky, its radiance spilling across a patch of land that looked impossibly alive.
Grass. Green, soft, moving in a breeze I couldn't feel elsewhere.
I stood at the edge of a cliff and stared down. Below me, nestled in the cradle of this glowing land, was a city.
It stretched far and wide, walls of silver-white stone, banners fluttering lazily in the wind. At the center rose a castle of gleaming marble that reached up into the grey heavens, its highest tower piercing the clouds like a blade.
It was the only thing in this forsaken world that looked… alive.
I stepped to the edge and began to descend. My red toga fluttered and billowed around me as I flew down the slope, dust spiraling below me.
When I reached the base of the hill, I saw movement at the city gates.
Figures, many of them had gathered there. They pointed, shouted, and then began running toward me.
At first, I thought they were human. But as they drew closer, I realized they were not just that.
Some had skin tinted green or blue, others had faintly glowing eyes. A few had elvish ears or scales that shimmered under the white sun. Men, women, and children of every imaginable kind.
They slowed when they reached me, eyes wide with something between awe and terror. Then one dropped to their knees, and the rest followed.
Hundreds of them, bowing low, foreheads pressed to the grass.
"Oh high one who comes from the highest place," one whispered.
"A god has descended," another breathed.
Before I could speak, the ground shook.
A thunderous boom split the air as a dark figure dropped from the sky, landing before the kneeling crowd. Dust rose around him like a shroud.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black leather armor that clung to his form like a second skin. His hair was dark, his left eye marked with a long, pale scar that cut down to his cheek.
And like me, he had claws. But behind him, a tail swayed, a dark, spiked appendage that hissed faintly as it cut the air.
He straightened, his expression calm but wary.
"You come from beyond the grey," he said, voice low and edged. "Tell me, stranger, who are you?"
I met his gaze. "I am Adam," I said. "God of Protection."
For a moment, he was silent. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich laugh that echoed off the city walls.
"Protection, you say?" he smirked, eyes gleaming. "How long has it been since I heard that word?"
He tapped his chest lightly.
"Once, I was called the god of peace. Now…"
His grin widened, though there was sorrow behind it.
"Now they call me the god of violence and murder".
I studied him quietly. "Peace turned inward," I murmured.
"Guarding nothing but destruction."
He tilted his head, as though amused by my choice of words.
"You understand, then. Come. You shouldn't stand out here under the grey."
He gestured toward the city gates. The kneeling crowd parted for us like a tide.
We entered through towering archways of silver and white stone. The streets beyond were lively, market stalls, children running, laughter echoing between the walls. But beneath that life was something off. A stillness, a hollowness that didn't belong.
The people watched me with wide, reverent eyes as we passed. Some whispered prayers under their breath. Others simply bowed, trembling.
"You'll find this place strange," my guide said as we walked. "We call it Eldraen. The City of the Lost."
"Who built it?" I asked.
"Zelroth," he replied, glancing at me. "Son of Death. Together with Krussal, the God of War."
He smiled faintly, almost wistfully.
"When Heaven fell, they gathered those who were cast into the well and built this haven under the white sun."
The castle grew larger as we approached, its walls streaked with veins of green light that pulsed faintly, like breath.
At the gates, the guards bowed low, men and women with black eyes and silver veins glowing under their skin. The great iron doors groaned open before us.
I turned to him. "There are thousands here. If only fifty gods fell, how—"
"The people you see," he interrupted, "are not all gods. Some are human survivors, souls that clung to the world when it fell into the well. Others are children of the fallen, lesser gods without authority"
I nodded slowly. "Half-bloods of chaos."
"Exactly," he said. "This city is their sanctuary."
We walked through the grand corridor, lined with obsidian columns carved with shifting runes.
At the end stood a massive door of white metal, etched with a thousand names. The man stopped and turned to me. His playful expression was gone.
"From here," he said quietly, "choose your words carefully."
He pushed the doors open.
Inside stretched a vast throne room, its walls glimmering faintly with threads of green light.
At the far end, on a raised dais, stood two thrones.
On the left sat a man clad in black leather like my guide, his brown hair unkempt, his face lined with exhaustion and scars that spoke of centuries. His eyes were dull, eyes that had seen too much and cared too little.
Beside him sat another man in flowing white robes, his hair a pale, sickly green that shimmered faintly under the light. His smile was calm, almost gentle, though it carried a weight that pressed on the air.
Both turned their eyes toward me as I entered.
The man in white leaned forward, his voice smooth, resonant.
"Welcome," he said, smiling faintly. .