Saya was not religious but he did believe in god.
Self-belief was important, after all.
Why was God chained up in an unknown chamber by a man he wanted to kill, that sat in front of his divine eyes and was—fucking annoyingly—smiling?
Well, this beautiful shit birthed from inside a garbage dump. A trash can. The slums.
Saya's home.
###
"Fuck…" Saya whispered to himself, trying not to let disgust bleed onto his expression. Practice makes perfect. He'd become quite good at it these last couple years. But he didn't feel bad a speck that all this work would go to waste past tonight.
