Darkness pressed down on him like a collapsing sky.Then a voice cracked inside his mind, thin and brittle, as if spoken through shattered glass.
[System Restarting]
[Critical Error: Divine Core Shattered]
[Status: Fallen to Mortal Realm]
His eyes opened to dim light. Cold stone touched his back, rain tapped against the ground, and his breath clouded faintly in the air. He pushed himself halfway upright, forcing his mortal lungs to draw shallow breaths.
Everything felt wrong, too heavy, too slow, too fragile.
"So this is a mortal body," he whispered. "How far I have fallen."
Another flicker appeared before him, a pale panel trembling as if struggling to remain stable.
[STATUS
DIVINITY: 0
FAITH: 0
AUTHORITY: I (Dormant)
DOMAIN: None
MIRACLES: Locked
FOLLOWERS: 0
SHRINE: Not Established]
He stared at it in silence. A lifetime of power, erased with a single judgment. His fingers trembled as he reached toward the screen, though he could not touch it.
"That council," he muttered. "Those cowards. They actually did it."
His voice came out rough, nothing like the resonance he once commanded. Mortality had clipped his tone into something small, ordinary.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the alley, carrying wet leaves and cold air. He pulled the cloak tighter around himself, annoyed by how easily the chill seeped into his bones.
A soft rhythm broke the silence. Footsteps, light and hesitant.
He turned.
A silhouette paused at the entrance of the alley. A girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen, holding a cracked wooden box against her chest. Her jacket was soaked from the rain, her hair plastered to her forehead.
She squinted into the darkness. "Sir? Are you hurt?"
Her voice was cautious, but not afraid. That alone surprised him.
He cleared his throat. "I fell."
"Fell from where?" she asked.
"Heaven."
She blinked three times, processing his words with visible effort. "Right. And I am the queen of the moon."
Her sarcasm was gentle, almost playful, and somehow it stung less than the judgment of the gods.
A chime echoed inside his mind.
[Potential FAITH detected.][Action Suggested: Establish First Shrine.]
He frowned. "Faith, from sarcasm?"
The panel vibrated again.
[System processing… minimal spark detected.]
The girl took a step closer. "Hey, seriously, you look like you can barely sit. Are you injured?"
"I am, unfortunately, alive," he said.
"That is not an answer," she replied.
Her shoes splashed lightly against the ground as she approached. She set the wooden box beside him and crouched down. Her eyes were amber, bright even in the dimness.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
He hesitated. Telling her the truth felt pointless, yet lying felt foreign to him. "I was cast down."
"As in, someone threw you?" she asked.
"In a manner of speaking."
She sighed. "Okay, mystery man, can you stand?"
He tried. His knees buckled, and she instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him.
The moment her hand touched him, a chime rang loudly.
[FAITH +1]
His eyes widened. "What did you do?"
She pulled her hand back instantly. "What, did I hurt you?"
"No," he said, staring at the glowing notification. "You helped me."
"Yeah, that is what people do," she said. "Most of us, anyway."
He looked at her again, more carefully this time. Her voice, her concern, the quiet determination in her eyes. There was no worship, no reverence, nothing divine in her expression. Yet the system counted it as Faith.
Faith had always been grand, vast, offered by crowds chanting his name. Now it came from a single human gesture.
A hum filled the back of his mind.
[Faith Source Identified: Mira]
He looked at her. "Your name, is it Mira?"
She nodded. "Yes. What is yours?"
He paused. His true name was a celestial chord, a resonance that mortals could not pronounce. But now, no one remembered it, not even the system.
"My name is… Aren," he admitted.
She let out a quiet laugh. "Well, Aren."
Mira opened the wooden box. Inside were a few candles, a small flint, a strip of clean cloth, and a folded paper packet of dried food.
"These are for the shelter," she explained. "They let volunteers keep a few supplies for emergencies. And you look like one."
He tilted his head. "Shelter?"
"Yes. A place where people without a home can stay." She paused. "Do you not know that?"
He shook his head once. "I am not familiar with mortal structures."
Mira stared. "You really commit to the bit, huh?"
Before he could respond, the system interrupted again.
[Requirement: Establish First Shrine.][Faith generation requires an anchor.]
"A shrine," he murmured. "They want me to start with a shrine."
Mira rose, dusted off her knees, and extended a hand. "First, let us get you standing. Then you can talk about shrines or whatever else you believe in."
He accepted her hand. His grip was weak. Standing felt like lifting mountains. But her support held.
"Slow, slow," she said. "You walk like you have never used legs before."
He almost smiled. "I have used legs, just not these ones."
She glanced at him, puzzled, but did not ask further.
As they stepped out of the alley, the city's muted lights reflected in puddles. The world felt noisy and alive, unfamiliar yet strangely grounding.
Mira guided him gently. "Three blocks to the shelter. It is warm inside. You can rest, get food, maybe see a doctor."
"I do not need a doctor," he said.
"You definitely do," she replied.
They continued walking. His breath grew steady. His steps grew firmer. And for the first time since his fall, he felt a faint warmth inside his chest. Not divine. Human.
A sense of motion toward something new.
The system vibrated again.
[Faith increases with belief, not miracles.]
[Small acts compound.]
He whispered, "So that is how I begin."
Mira, hearing him, raised an eyebrow. "Begin what?"
"Rebuilding."
"Rebuilding what?"
"Everything."
She stared for a second, then shrugged. "Okay. One step at a time, alright?"
He nodded.
They reached the shelter entrance, light spilling from the doorway.
As he crossed the threshold, the system delivered one final message.
[Quest Unlocked: Establish Your First Shrine]
[Quest Progress: 0%]
He inhaled slowly. Mira held the door open for him.
He stepped inside.
A god at zero, beginning again with a single believer.