They say the gods do not weep.
That they sit upon their thrones of stardust and silence, unmoved by the suffering of mortals.
But that is a lie. I know this because I saw a god fall—cast out, broken, and bleeding. And in the void between worlds, he wept.
His name was Elion. Once the Arbiter of Realms, keeper of order, lord of light. His hands shaped continents, his breath birthed storms, and his gaze kept the balance between life and death. Until the day he did the unthinkable—he gave fire to a mortal not of his world. A soul out of place. A boy from Earth.
Me.
I was seventeen, dying in a hospital bed, lungs full of smoke and dreams half-buried under rubble. I never asked for salvation. I never begged for a second chance. But Elion gave it to me.
And for that… he was betrayed.
The other gods stripped him of power, shattered his divine name, and hurled him into the Abyss Beyond Realms—a prison with no time, no stars, no hope. Where forgotten gods rot and madness feeds on memory.
But I remember him.
Now, five years later, in a world where dragons fear the sky and kingdoms kneel before monsters wearing crowns, I carry his last ember of divinity.
They call me the False Heir.
The Pretender.
The Human Curse.
But I will raise an army from the ashes of broken realms. I will tear open the gates of the divine. And I will rewrite the fate they tried to carve in stone.
Because gods do weep.
And for Elion, the god who saved me…
I will make the heavens bleed.
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