Chapter 1 – Reached Me
They say God's hands can reach anyone.Purify them.Shape them.Save them.
They never reached me.
His did.
—
On a moonless night, a boy walked toward the Temple of the Fallen.His mother told him to come here after she died.
She said God lived inside.
The boy wanted two things.To see her again.And to ask God why He let her die.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the world broke.
The moon bled.
An eclipse formed—one that came once every fourteen centuries.Right on time.Just for him.
Inside, hell was celebrating.
The Damned laughed as they cut each other open.Jesters danced in blood.Clowns screamed as blades kissed their throats.
Not chaos.Ritual.
The sky rained red.The ground turned white with skulls.
The boy couldn't move.
His legs shook.His heart tried to escape his chest.
Then the Damned noticed him.
Laughter died.Blades lowered.Kneeling began.
They didn't look hungry.
They looked… afraid.
And worse—
They looked sorrowful.
A woman stepped forward.
Tall.Dark.Familiar.
With every step, something screamed inside his chest.
Not fear.
Recognition.
When she stood before him, memories crashed down all at once.
His mother.
"Mom…?"His voice cracked."Is that you?"
The jesters burst into laughter.
Not mockery.
Relief.
She took his hands.Warm.Gentle.
"You did well," she whispered."Now close your eyes."
He did.
Even then, his name echoed everywhere.
Sammael.Sammael.Wake the hell up.
—
He woke up screaming.
Not in hell.In his bedroom.
His father was yelling.His stepmother was shouting.The alarm screamed like it always did.
Morning.
Same hell.Different cage.
His mother was still dead.
He hated this house.Hated the voices.Hated breathing the same air as them.
Talking back only meant pain.
So he stayed quiet.
Washed his face.Dressed.Left.
Outside, he lit a cigarette and stared at the sky.
Not because it was beautiful.Because it didn't care.
School passed like static.
Sleeping in class.Hearing gossip about the student president.The "perfect girl."People chosen by something kinder than fate.
He wasn't.
No friends.No future.Just a cat waiting at home.
On the way back, he saw a clown laughing with a woman.
His body locked.
His knees failed.
The clown waved.
The sky darkened.The moon bled again.
He collapsed.
To breathe, he whispered the chant his mother used to sing.
Within the darkness,the light shall rise again.
Tears came before he noticed.
When he opened his eyes, he ran.
The hallucinations never stopped after she died.You don't get used to them.You just endure them.
Through the window, he saw his family laughing.
Smiling.Alive.
They never laughed like that when he was home.
To his father, he was a mistake.To his stepmother, a burden.To Adam—
Perfect.
He walked to the park.
It was his mother's birthday.
She would have been thirty-seven.
They had moved on.He hadn't.
Stars filled the sky.
A rock lay on the road.
He saw himself in it.Still.Useless.
His family were the stars.Free.
Adam found him.
"Dad wants you home."
They walked together.
"Why so happy?" he asked.
Adam smirked."Dad scheduled a dinner to honor your mom's death. You skipped it. Why?"
He laughed.
"Honor? He erased her. Threw away her pictures. This dinner is about him feeling better."
"That's moving on," Adam said."And you? You don't even visit her grave."
"Moving on isn't running," he said."I accepted her death. He uses it."
He stopped walking.
"You don't understand my pain. Don't pretend you do."
Adam stayed silent.
At home, Dad called him.
Calm voice.
Dangerous voice.
"Why didn't you come?"
"She won't rise from the dead," he said."Your words. Not mine."
The explosion came fast.
A chair thrown.A fist raised.A man unraveling.
"She ruined my life!" Dad screamed."I see her every time I look at you! I wish you both died!"
He laughed.
"No wonder she's gone."
Dad let go.
"You're not my son. Everything is Adam's now."
He left.
Adam looked at him with pity.
That look stayed.
He stayed on the floor.
Time passed.
Eventually, he took the gun.
Went back to the park.
No meaning.No love.No future.
He drank stolen beer.Smoked slowly.
When the cigarette died, he would follow.
He raised the gun—
A cat ran past.
The shot tore through his chest.
Not enough to kill him.
Enough to make it hurt.
"I'm a failure," he sobbed."If God exists—WHY WON'T HE LET ME REST?!"
He screamed.
Then someone answered.
A tall figure stood over him.Moonlight hair.Black eyes.
Not holy.Not human.
The figure smiled.
"This isn't a dramatic death," he said."But it's memorable."
He leaned closer.
"Tell me, son of Lilith…"
"Do you want me to change your destiny?"