The world around Kael had become a blur. He stood on a cliff, staring at the horizon where the last remnants of the rift flickered and vanished into nothingness. The echoes of the battle, of his victories and defeats, faded like distant memories. Time felt irrelevant now. The gods, the battles, the endless pursuit of power—all of it seemed like a distant, pointless game. He had won, he had conquered, but for what?
With the rift closed and the powers of the cosmos still within him, Kael felt a deep, gnawing emptiness. His once unyielding drive had faltered, replaced by a strange apathy that settled over him like a heavy fog. The world that had once felt alive with possibilities now seemed dull and unimportant. Everything he had fought for felt hollow, as if all his power, all his struggles, had been for nothing.
"I've done it all," Kael muttered to himself, slumping against the stone wall of the cliff. "What's left for me?"
The weight of the worlds no longer seemed like a burden he had to carry—it felt like a distant memory, one that no longer mattered. The endless wars, the gods' schemes, the cosmic forces that raged across dimensions—they all seemed so... irrelevant now.
With a sigh, Kael turned, his mind still clouded, and made his way back to the small cabin he had built in the woods. The place, rustic and simple, seemed the perfect escape from the chaos of the realms. No more rifts, no more gods, no more battles. Just... peace.
Inside the cabin, the warmth of the fire flickered against the chill air. Kael stumbled to a small table where a bottle of liquor sat, its amber contents inviting him into the oblivion he craved. He poured himself a glass and drank it in one swift motion. The warmth spread through him, but it didn't fill the emptiness inside.
Another drink. Then another. The haze of alcohol dulled the sharp edges of his mind, and for the first time in ages, he allowed himself to just... be. He didn't care anymore. The weight of responsibility, the endless pressure to fight, to conquer—it all faded away with each sip. He could feel the powers still thrumming beneath his skin, but they seemed distant now, like a part of someone else's life.
"I'm a god," Kael said to himself, his voice thick with the liquor. "A god who doesn't give a damn."
The thought was absurd. He had once been driven by an insatiable hunger for control, for power, for purpose. Now, he felt nothing. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to conquer. He didn't want anything.
The night stretched on, and Kael continued to drink, sinking further into his self-imposed exile. The stars outside twinkled, but they no longer held any meaning for him. They were just distant lights, uncaring and cold. Just like everything else.
For hours, Kael lost himself in the haze, his thoughts blurred by the alcohol. The fire burned low, and the silence of the woods settled around him like a heavy blanket. He had no ambitions left. No dreams. Nothing but the intoxicating numbness of the moment.
His fingers tightened around the bottle, and for a moment, he wondered if this was all there was.
"I could walk away," he muttered, barely coherent. "Leave it all behind..."
But even in his drunken stupor, Kael knew he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to forget, the power still thrummed within him, and the knowledge that he could do anything, be anything, weighed heavily on him. But he didn't want to. Not anymore.
A deep sigh escaped his lips as he lay back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to be the hero or the king. He didn't care about the gods, or the fate of the realms, or the delicate balance of existence.
He just wanted peace. And right now, that was all he had.
The bottle in his hand slipped from his grasp, rolling to the floor with a dull thud. The darkness of the room was comforting, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Kael closed his eyes, letting the world fade away.