His voice floats in the dark—slow, distant, cracked at the edges. A memory unraveling itself in ruin.

"Oh… and I just died again."

A beat.

"Didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. Just burned. Like always."

"But it doesn’t matter. None of this is real. Not really. It’s just… something stuck on repeat. A scene that loops like it’s written in the marrow of my bones."

He inhales. Smokes chokes even the thought.

"I think I’ve been trapped here for so long, I started dreaming with my eyes open."

"Don’t get confused. I wasn’t always like this. I was a god. A ruler. Born of stars and saltwater. Atlantis was mine to inherit. My name—my legacy—was etched into the stone of the sea before I ever took my first breath."

"And then…" his voice tightens "Mortals."

"They didn’t worship. They hunted. They slaughtered the gods—burned our temples, tore our wings, shattered our hearts."

"And me? They didn’t kill me. They needed me alive. Needed me to scream."

"You ever wondered what it feels like—melted gold poured on your skin? Not once. Not twice. A thousand times. They’d stop. Let me heal. Then start again. That’s how I lost my gift. That’s how I lost my healing. That’s how I lost time."

"I was just a child when the first war came. Barely 200 years old—barely chosen. By 500, I was ready for the throne. Strong. Steady. Loved."

"Then the massacre."

"Atlantis died."

"And I disappeared into shadow."

"Ten thousand years they kept me. Caged. Bound. Tortured. Not enough to die. Just enough to wish I could."

"And then I saw my chance. I ran. I fought. I clawed my way out—"

"But they found me. Again."

"They reversed my age—ripped me backward through time like I was nothing but a thread. Left me a child. A hundred years old again. Powerless."

"Then came the final curse: They locked me inside an illusion."

"My illusion."

"The one I created as a child—the night my village burned. The night I screamed and no one came."

"Now I live that night again."
"And again."
"And again."

"I die. I wake. I die. I wake."

"Every ending is a beginning wrapped in fire."

"And I’m tired."

"Tired of bleeding for gods who are gone. Tired of breaking for Mortals who only know how to destroy."

A long pause.

"They used me."
"Wore me out like a story passed through too many mouths."

Then his voice drops—low, steel in it now. A whisper with weight.

"But I swear… the next time I rise…"
"It won’t be to save them."
"It’ll be to end them."

"They will scream and I'll listen"
"This time, I'll give them something to remember"
"A god... with nothing left to lose."


READER ADVISORY:
    Everything in this world is handcrafted — from currency to the most basic details.
My characters are morally gray, and each one is forged through relentless trials, not born into greatness.
If you're hypersensitive, this story isn't for you.
This book is brutal, raw, and unapologetically different.
But if you’re craving something bold, dark, and unlike anything you’ve read before — step in.
Thanks for reading.

This chapter serve as s knowledge about the world of the novel and may contain spoilers


World building Codex