“I am the god of wrath, the raging fire within…”

  Darkness had fallen.

  The world as we know it is no more.

  It had left a void, hollow and still, where once dreams were made in golden light.

  Yet, deep within the heart of a god, hope remained.

  A great light was born.

  It filled everything, blinding and all-ing, until it scattered away.

  Then, there was dawn.

  The sun rose once again, just as it had so many times before.

  Ah it, emerging from the deep blue sea, was the great isnd.

  Just beyond its highest point, among the rugged hills and a stone, y a small temple—a shrine encircled by rings of fire, where a strange ceremony was taking pce.

  The ones who worshipped there appeared humanoid, though they bore little resembo ordinary men. Their bloated fish heads glistened uhe m sun, and scales covered their pale skin.

  They stood by the thousands, armed and arranged in battle-like formations, their gssy fish eyes fixed oar that awaited atop a flight of stairs.

  The sea whispered below, restless and deep, and torches flickered in the mountain winds.

  It had always begun this way.

  “All hail his divine majesty!” one of the worshippers cried, raising his scaled arms high.

  The others joined in almost instantly, thousands of voices rising and falling together…

  All hail his divine majesty!

  All hail his divine majesty!

  All hail his divine majesty!

  …They repeated the t, over and over.

  Their unblinking, gssy eyes remained locked on a single point—the altar atop the stoairs.

  The ting faltered when a shadow moved.

  A figure rose.

  Slowly, with measured steps, the figure desded toward the altar.

  The worshippers fell silent.

  The only sound was the soft sp of bare feet against stone.

  “I am fate, bringer of life ah…” the figure announced, its voice higher than expected but with a tone of forced authority.

  The torchlight revealed him fully now…

  A boy, no older than ten!

  His frame was delicate, almost fragile, dressed in a white toga that seemed te.

  A of leaves sat crookedly on his head, the edges browned and wilted. He tugged at it absently, scratg his scalp as if the thing had been b him for some time.

  Then, he approached the altar—a simple stone sb.

  At its ter y a silver pte, covered with a tarnished lid.

  He stared at it for a long moment.

  “All knowing, all powerful…” he muttered, but the words souired, almost rehearsed.

  With a deep sigh, he pushed the lid aside.

  He stared down, expression bnk.

  “But, of course,” he whispered. “Nothing ever goes my way.”

  The worshippers tensed, watg him with wide, unblinking eyes…

  One among them—a shaman, draped in robes adorned with shells and boepped forward and bowed deeply.

  “Glory to the dawn born, bringer of first light,” he procimed.

  “Praise to him who rises with the sun—the benevolent child-god, Bae!”

  The others answered in perfect, meical rhythm:

  Long may he reign!

  Long may he reign!

  Long may he reign!

  Bae raised a hand, waving zily. “Alright, alright, enough!” he snapped.

  “Quiet down! I need a mio think.”

  The crowd stilled immediately.

  The shaman, however, stepped once more, head bowed so low his fish-like faearly touched the ground.

  “Behold!” he cried. “The child-god himself stands before us! Surely, he is pleased with our humble ?”

  Bae pulled the from his head, scratg furiously at his scalp. It had clearly been irritating him for some time.

  “Ugh, this thing! Do you have any idea how itchy this is? You’d think divine craftsmanship would be more fortable!”

  He then fixed the shaman with a ft stare.

  “Is that so? Pleased?” Bae barked a dry ugh. “Oh, sure. Absolutely thrilled.”

  His gaze dropped to the silver pte.

  “Except I’m not. Because you idiots seem tet something pretty important...”

  He leaned forward, his voice l.

  “I’m a god. I know everything.” He tapped his temple for emphasis. “Do you get what that means? It means I kly what was uhat lid before I even thought of lifting it. No surprises here.”

  He straightened, gl at the pte.

  “And this... What the hell is this?!”

  Oe y a freshly caught fish, glistening, its eye gssy and lifeless.

  The shaman lifted his gaze, just enough to see the .

  "O-oh mighty o is our most sacred gift—"

  “A fish?” Bae cut him off. “A dead fish? Really? Out of everything—this is what you came up with?”

  He turned, addressing the entire crowd now, arms stretched wide.

  “Hey, everyone, big surprise—they brought me another fish!”

  The worshippers remaiill. Silent. Watg.

  Bae’s smile faded. His arms dropped.

  “ht. Fot. You don’t ugh. Or speak. Or do anything iing.”

  He turned back to the shaman, waving dismissively at the pte.

  The shaman, iurn, trembled, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “W-we believed...” he began, swallowing hard, “the dawn born would appreciate a gift of our own... flesh and blood. Such s have alleased the divine! Our aave of themselves to prove loyalty aion… What greater gift exists than a part of our own being?”

  Bae stared at him for a long moment, then looked back at the pte o time. He sighed, deep and weary.

  “You people are making me sick.”

  With a snort of disgust, he threw the onto the altar, where it nded beside the dead fish.

  “D-does ift displease his divine majesty...?” the shaman stammered. Then, turning to the crowd, he decred:

  “The diminutive god disapproves of our !”

  Bae’s body te the st remark.

  “Hey! Who are you calling little?!” he barked.

  The shaman flinched but quickly recovered, his bony fiightening around the beads at his chest.

  “Fools!” he cried, whirling to face the crowd. “His fury rises! His temper burns like the rising sun. His wrath will e us all!”

  A ripple of panic spread.

  The worshippers began to wail, a shrill, haunting sound that echoed through the isnd.

  “Oh, no! The child-god is angry!”

  They spped their fish faces with webbed hands, some dropping to their knees, ripping their heads, rog bad forth.

  Bae gaped at them.

  e them all? What was this guy talking about?

  “Five us, mighty lord!” a worshipper sobbed, pressing his forehead to the ground.

  “Spare us your wrath!” another cried, trembling as he raised his hands in supplication. “We shall prepare a sacrifice worthy of your being!”

  Bae took an instinctive step back.

  “Oh, e on—” He threw up his hands. “I’m not gonna—”

  “WE SHALL PREPARE A SACRIFICE WORTHY OF YOUR BEING!” the crowd screamed.

  “What?! No!” Bae growled. “Stop that! Yonna kill yourselves!”

  But it was too te.

  The worshippers turned on each other—frenzied, g, shrieking. Some fell, crushed beh the frantic stampede, while others fought, their guttural wails swallowed by the madness.

  Bae sighed, his eyes closed in weary resignation.

  He had tried. He had told them to stop.

  They never listened.

  With a snap of his fingers, the sky darkened.

  The wind stilled. The air grew heavy.

  Then came the first tremor.

  A volo erupted nearby—r, spewing molten rock. Ash and smoke choked the sky.

  The screams faded into silence.

  Darkness fell once more.

  And then, for a long moment, there was nothing…

  …until, slowly, his thoughts resurfaced, drifting through the void.

  My name is Bae.

  This is my world.

  I’ve been stu this isnd for as long as I remember.

  Alone.

  Fotten.

  Left here by the so-called grand design of existence...

  You’d think being a god would e with some crity.

  Some answers.

  But I’ve spent ages wrestling with the same question.

  Why?

  What’s it all for?

  What’s the point of it all?

  From the very beginning, it’s baffled me…

  I kept thinking, maybe there was some grand truth out there.

  Something that would make it all make sense.

  Something that would finally give me peace.

  But every time I thought I was getting close, every siime…

  I’d just end up back where I started.

  Over and ain.

  And after a while...

  Well, that make you feel very lonely...

  “You’re nothing!”

  His shout echoed through the barren isnd.

  The earth itself seemed to flinch at the sound, but the figures standing in perfect lines did not.

  “…Worthless! Empty shells! Mindless heaps of hot garbage!”

  Rows upon rows of humanoid beings stood in silender the pale sky. Their unblinking eyes, gssy and vat, seemed to stare right through him.

  Bae faced them, rigid. His fists ched at his sides.

  “You’re just gonna stand there?” The words tore from his throat, raw and desperate. “Say something you hypocrites!”

  Nothing.

  Not a flinot a sound.

  His gaze fell to the ground.

  A rock y there—rough, jagged.

  He picked it up, feeling its weight.

  “I made you… I made you to be more than this!”

  Then, without warning, he hurled it forward with all his strength.

  The stone whistled through the air and struck the front row of figures.

  It tore through them like paper. Bodies crumpled, colpsing against the ground.

  Bae waited, watg the dust settle around the fallen bodies…

  One figure remaianding.

  A thin stream of blood ran down from its forehead, trig over its rubbery skin.

  It didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

  It just… smiled. And stared. Straight at him.

  Bae gnced down at his hands, his fingers curling in.

  Somehow, they felt so small.

  His lips parted, and when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

  “I... I hate you.”

  He stepped forward, trembling. The tears finally came.

  “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

  His voice shattered into a thousand echoes.

  The ures stood there. Smiling. Watg.

  It didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered.

  A long, hollow sigh escaped him.

  With a slow, almost zy motion, he raised his hand.

  Snap.

  The sound echoed like a closing door.

  From the horizon, the sea stirred. A shadow rose—a wall of water, t and dark, dragging the sky down with it.

  It came fast. Furious. An unstoppable force.

  Bae didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just watched.

  The wave reflected in his eyes—empty eyes.

  The roar became deafening.

  And then—

  Silence.

  I need someone who uand.

  Someone like me, but... different.

  Bae stared at the silver pte, his faint refle staring back from its polished surface.

  His fingers drummed against the cold stone of the altar.

  “Not another mindless worshipper,” he muttered. “Not these hollow shells. They don’t get it. They never did.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, still itchy where the had rested.

  “They only see what I am, not who I am.”

  His hand tapped the stohe idea lingered, sharp and clear.

  Someone like me. But different. Different enough to matter.

  A slow breath. A moment of silence.

  Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers. The air stirred.

  “Time to try something new.”

  And for the first time in his life, Bae wasirely sure what would happe.