Under the starry sky, millions of golden lights fell from the firmament. People worldwide thought they were mere flashes, but they were mistaken.

The most superstitious and the well-informed understood what was happening, and a single word escaped their lips:

"The gods have returned."

A golden light, seemingly ordinary, crashed into a dense pine forest. The next morning, Wilson, the person who had descended with the light, woke up restless.

Quickly, he began to scan his body to ensure he had suffered no harm. Confirming he was unscathed, he let out a deep sigh.

As he rose, he cautiously surveyed his surroundings with alert eyes. It seemed like a forest, but the mystery was why he was there. Who would bother to bring him here? Many possibilities crossed his mind until, suddenly, he felt a sharp headache. Bewildering information reached him, causing him to faint.

Hours later, Wilson regained consciousness as if nothing had happened, though his face reflected dissatisfaction.

Without wasting time, he embarked on a brisk walk in a random direction. He needed to move as fast as possible.

The strong, cold wind tempted him to bundle up, but Wilson didn't care at the moment. He was worried; the information he had obtained out of nowhere made him aware of the situation he was in.

Now he was a god, which sounded great, but in reality, it wasn't all that glamorous. As a god, he needed to be worshiped or recognized in some way, or else he would be forgotten. Being forgotten meant death, in other words.

In his thoughts, Wilson only wished to avenge the person who had put him in this situation and teach them a good lesson.

Unaware of how long he had been immersed in his thoughts, he emerged from the dense pine forest.

Before him stretched a vast plain, something Wilson had only seen in photos and videos, never in person.

The serious and emotionless expression on Wilson's face changed to one of joy and hope as he admired the landscape. In the distance, he spotted a small cluster of rustic tents.

Determined to investigate that little village, Wilson heard voices behind him. Four men chatted merrily as they carried what seemed to be two gazelles.

Hoping they were close enough, Wilson planned to ask them something. However, as he approached within a meter, the men didn't react at all. Perplexed, Wilson wasn't discouraged, but when he attempted to speak to them face-to-face, he passed through them as if he were a ghost.