THE AUTHOR IS INSANE

The battlefield stretched endlessly, a canvas painted in blood and divine light, shadow and corruption. The war had lasted centuries—so long that no human remembered how it began. The gods and demons, locked in their ceaseless conflict, had long abandoned the pretense of caring for the mortal world. To them, humans were mere instruments of war—pawns to be sacrificed, replaced, and forgotten.

The divine warriors, blessed by the gods, wielded swords of celestial fire, their bodies etched with holy sigils that burned with righteous fury. The demonized ones, twisted by hatred and pain, brandished blackened steel and whispered curses that turned men into beasts. The war raged without end, driven by one purpose—to claim the Holy Grail, an artifact of limitless power, said to grant any wish, even immortality.

But neither side could touch it.

The Grail was locked behind an ancient barrier, a shield woven by Gaia herself—the will of the world. It repelled both the divine and the damned, rejecting gods and demons alike. For centuries, both factions fought, believing that victory would grant them access. Neither ever suspected that Gaia had other plans.

Now, in the chaos of the war's final years, something impossible had happened.

A single human, neither blessed nor cursed, had reached the Grail.

He had no name, not anymore.

Once, he had been someone. A soldier, perhaps. A farmer, maybe. It didn't matter now. The war had stripped him of everything—his home, his family, his identity. The gods had not chosen him. The demons had not broken him. He was simply human. And that made him more dangerous than either side had ever realized.

He had not come here for power. He had not come for vengeance.

He had come because he was tired.

Tired of war. Tired of the endless cycle of suffering. Tired of being a pawn in someone else's game.

As he stepped forward, the air shimmered. The barrier, which had repelled the mightiest angels and the most terrifying demons, parted for him without resistance. The divine light that should have burned him to ash instead embraced him like an old friend. He took another step, then another, until he stood before the Grail itself.

It was smaller than he expected. Not a grand chalice encrusted with jewels, but a simple cup of silver, filled to the brim with something that shimmered like liquid starlight. It whispered to him—not in words, but in emotions, in possibilities. The weight of eternity pressed upon him.

Behind him, the battlefield had fallen silent.

The gods, watching from their celestial thrones, ceased their endless debates. The demons, lurking in the abyss, turned their burning eyes toward the human who had done the impossible.

None of them could reach him now. None of them could stop what was about to happen.

"Damned Gaia," one of the gods spat, golden eyes narrowing. "She ruined everything. We knew something was wrong when the barrier rejected both our champions and the hellspawn."

"We must inform them," another said, shifting nervously. "A human has the Grail."

"Inform them? How?" The first god let out a bitter laugh. "You think we'll escape blame? The demons will tear us apart before they let us explain."

Below them, on the battlefield, both the divine warriors and the demonized soldiers had frozen in place. They had been so consumed by slaughter that they had failed to notice the one thing that truly mattered.

A human had taken the Grail.

The impossible had happened.

Now, all that remained was to see what he would wish for.

The human stared into the Grail.

It would be so easy.

He could wish for immortality, like the gods. He could wish for power, like the demons. He could reshape the world in his image, end the war in an instant, bend reality to his will.

But that wasn't what he wanted.

He closed his eyes.

And he made his wish.

The sky shattered.

A pillar of light erupted from the Grail, piercing the heavens and splitting the battlefield in two. The divine warriors screamed as their holy sigils burned away, their connection to the gods severed in an instant. The demonized ones collapsed, the corruption within them unraveling like smoke in the wind.

And then, the barrier vanished.

The balance—the fragile equilibrium that had sustained this war for centuries—was gone.

Power surged through the air, divine and demonic forces clashing violently as they sought to fill the void left behind. The gods and demons had never considered the possibility that they would not be the ones to wield the Grail. And now, they were no longer in control.

The war was over.

Not because one side had won.

But because the game itself had been broken.

In the silence that followed, the gods and demons watched in stunned horror.

The human stood alone, the Grail empty in his hands.