We all wish happy moments could last forever… but sadly, they never do.Fóntas often reflected on how her life had once been simple yet perfect. Before the world fell into chaos she had everything she ever wanted. Life in her eyes was filled with routine and contentment her days a tapestry of small, cherished moments that painted a picture of happiness.
She was born in a quiet town where nothing ever changed. It was the kind of place where people lived and died in the same houses their grandparents had built, where children played in the streets until dusk and everyone knew each other by name. The days were long, the summers hot, and the winters cold. It was a life some might have found dull but to Fóntas, it was home.
Evan was the love of her life. They had met in high school, their relationship blossoming from a friendship that grew deeper with every passing year. He was everything she had ever dreamed of kind, gentle, and always quick with a smile or a joke to lift her spirits. They spent their days together, sharing in the small joys of life, content in the knowledge that they had each other.Their love was steady, like a river that flowed quietly but with a current strong enough to carry them through any storm.
It wasn't a love built on grand gestures or sweeping romance but rather on the simple act of being there for one another, day in and day out. Evan was her anchor, the person she turned to when the world outside seemed too big or too scary . Fóntas was a faithful Christian, her belief in God a cornerstone of her identity. She had been raised in the church, attending Sunday services with her family and found comfort in the rituals and traditions that had been passed down through generations.
To her, faith was not just a set of beliefs but a way of life. She prayed every morning, gave thanks before every meal and sought guidance from the scriptures in times of trouble.Her faith was something she shared with Evan and together, they dreamt of a future blessed by God. They talked about marriage, about raising children in the same church where they had both been baptizedn and about growing old together in the town they both called home. There was no doubt in Fóntas's mind that their future was secure, protected by the hand of the divine.But even in the most perfect lives, there are cracks, tiny fractures that appear unnoticed until the foundation begins to crumble.
The first sign that something was wrong came in the form of whispers rumors of a strange illness spreading in far-off cities. At first, it was easy to dismiss the news as something that would never touch them. Their town was small, isolated, far from the hustle and bustle of the big cities where such things seemed to happen. Fóntas and Evan continued with their lives, their days filled with the same quiet happiness that had always been their norm.But the whispers grew louder and soon, they could no longer be ignored. The news reports became more urgent, the stories more terrifying . A "virus", they said, was spreading one that turned people into something else, something monstrous.
Fóntas tried to push the fear away, to cling to the belief that God would protect them, that their faith would shield them from whatever was coming.Yet, as the days passed, the reality of the situation became impossible to deny. The virus reached their town faster than anyone had anticipated, and the world Fóntas had known began to unravel.It started with a neighbor a man she had known all her life, who had always waved to her from his porch.
One day, he collapsed in the street, and when he got back up, he wasn't the same. His eyes were vacant, his movements jerky, and unnatural. He attacked without warning, his strength far beyond anything that should have been possible for a man of his age. The town descended into chaos as more and more people fell victim to the virus, their bodies twisted into horrifying parodies of the people they had once been.
Fóntas and Evan barricaded themselves in their home, hoping to wait out the storm. They prayed together, their hands clasped tightly as they begged God for protection. But the prayers that had once brought her comfort now felt hollow, the words echoing in the empty silence of their home.Then, one night, Evan fell ill.
It started with a fever, then chills, and then the tell tale signs that Fóntas had come to dread. She watched helplessly as the man she loved slipped away, replaced by something she could barely recognize. His eyes lost their warmth, his skin grew cold, and the love that had once bound them together was replaced by a hunger that terrified her . She knew what she had to do, but that didn't make it any easier.
As Evan turned, Fóntas held a knife in trembling hands, tears blurring her vision. She whispered a final prayer, asking for forgiveness for what she was about to do, even as she doubted whether anyone was listening. With a heavy heart, she repeatedly plunged the blade into his chest , ending the life of the man she had planned to spend forever with.
In that moment, something inside her.....Shattered. The world she had known was gone, and the faith that had once been her guiding light now felt like a cruel joke. How could God allow this to happen? How could He stand by and watch as everything she loved was torn away?Grief gave way to rage, a burning fury that consumed her. The gods had abandoned them, left them to die in a world they had promised to protect. But Fóntas was done waiting for divine intervention.
If the gods wanted a war, she would give them one. She would make them pay for every life lost, for every moment of happiness stolen.Standing over Evan's lifeless body, her hands still stained with his blood, Fóntas made a vow , a vow to take revenge on the gods themselves. "Prepare yourself, gods..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Because I'm about to nail you to a cross."
Fóntas's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp, mechanical sound
Ding!
A small, semi-transparent rectangle materialized in the air before her, its edges glowing faintly. The text within the window was clear and concise, almost clinical in its simplicity:
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
A soft hum accompanied the appearance of the window, and another line appeared below:
[Open System Panel? Y/N]
Her gaze lingered on the choice for a moment, curiosity mixing with caution. But before she could make a decision, the system continued, scrolling new text into view:
[New Objective: KILL THE GODS]