I didn't know where I was.
I woke up in a pool of something warm and thick, slick under my hands. My fingers sank into it like wet sand, but this wasn't sand. Blood.
My stomach churned. The world spun. I tried to push myself up, but my body refused to obey, limbs stiff and aching like they had been crushed under the weight of something far heavier than I was ready for.
Something I couldn't understand.When I opened my eyes, I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips.
Above me, the sky was wrong. Not wrong in the way clouds had a certain softness, or how the sun shifted to twilight's gentle golds. No, this sky was a tear a massive crack running through the heavens like a shattered mirror. It pulsed with red lightning, jagged streaks that cut through the stars and danced like a living thing.
A storm, but not one of thunder and rain. No, this was something much worse.The sky had torn open.
I tried to sit up, my body screaming as if protesting the very act of movement, but when my eyes dropped to my hands, I froze.
They weren't my hands. They were covered in a strange, black armor that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. My fingers curled instinctively into fists, and the metal responded with a soft hum.
I felt like I was dying or maybe I already had.
The ground beneath me was slick and unnaturally smooth, as though it had been polished by time itself. The edges of my vision blurred, like a fever dream, and I felt like I was on the edge of consciousness. The pain in my chest was enough to make me want to scream, but I couldn't form the words.
Then I looked down.
The body I had just woken up in wasn't mine either. The armor that covered it was dark, almost obsidian, adorned with strange carvings and ancient symbols that shifted under the dim light. The chestplate was cracked, and I could see the faint glow of blue veins running through the skin beneath the armor, almost like it was a part of me now, like it was trying to take over.
This wasn't just any armor. This was god armor. The stories had said they existed the sky gods who descended in times of great catastrophe, who controlled the storm, who reshaped the world when it was broken. But gods weren't supposed to die. And this god, lying lifeless in a pool of its own golden blood, dead.
I killed it.
The thought exploded into my mind without warning. I had killed this god. I had killed it with these very hands.But I had no memory of doing it.
I didn't know who I was, let alone what I had become.
I pushed myself to my feet, the armor groaning in protest, and stared at the body lying motionless before me. The blood that pooled around the god's form was shimmering in the dim, dying light. It looked like liquid gold,glittering, and yet utterly wrong. It was the blood of a being that shouldn't have been slain.But I hadn't just killed it.
There were witnesses.
The air around me crackled. I turned toward the sound of movement and saw figures emerging from the shadows of the ruined landscape.
People? No. These weren't people. These were soldiers, tall, their bodies outlined by ethereal, ghostly light, their armor resembling glass rather than metal.They weren't human. One stepped forward, his spear clutched in both hands. His eyes were glowing pure, brilliant light. But what struck me the most was the aura of fear that radiated off him, like a sickness. He looked at me and stopped dead in his tracks.
He saw the armor, saw the blood, and recognized me.
"It's him," the soldier whispered, his voice shaking with disbelief. "It's Azrael… the God Slayer."
I didn't know who Azrael was, but that name fit somehow. It felt like it belonged to the body I now occupied.
A cold wave of terror washed over me, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn't remember killing anyone, let alone a god. The only thing that seemed familiar was the armor that wrapped around me, heavy and sentient, as if it knew what to do before I did.
The soldier took a step back, raising his spear. I instinctively raised my hand, and something happened.
The air hummed. A faint blue light surrounded my outstretched palm, but it wasn't just light. It was energy raw, primal, coursing through my veins like liquid fire. My fingers tightened around the air, and the space before me cracked. The soldier's spear split in half, the jagged shards falling to the ground like broken glass. He stumbled back, his mouth agape in shock.
"I-I didn't mean to " I whispered, but my voice was foreign to me, low, commanding.I didn't know what I had just done. I didn't know how I had done it. But the soldier didn't seem to care about that. His fear deepened, and his eyes darted to the god's body.
"Azrael," he muttered again, as if to reassure himself. "You were never meant to be… alive."
The words echoed in my mind as I stared at the soldier, who was now joined by others, their hands ready to strike. The God-Slayer, they had called me. Me, a nobody from the Ashlands. A kid who had spent his life fighting to survive the crumbling world below. I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be him.
The soldiers moved, their bodies glowing brighter, and I instinctively took a step back. The armor responded again, this time with a thrum of power. I didn't know how to fight them. I didn't even know if I wanted to fight them.
But I knew one thing: I couldn't let them take me back. Back to whatever punishment awaited me for killing a god.
The ground beneath me began to tremble. The sky above seemed to pulse again, the crack widening with every heartbeat.
And the world?
The world was just beginning to fall!