The sky was a deep, unsettling red, like the last gasps of an ancient warrior too stubborn to die peacefully. The oppressive atmosphere hung thickly, weighing down on everything like a bad dream no one could wake from.

At the forefront of this chaotic scene stood a young man, hands clasped behind his back. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, though there was a strange, almost unsettling depth to his gaze, like he could stare through the very fabric of space—and was thoroughly unimpressed by what he found there. 

Despite the gravity of the moment, his appearance was striking, with a soft, youthful beauty that made his roundly chubby cheeks almost charming. But under that gentle exterior, there was a sharpness, a latent power that suggested there was far more to him than met the eye.

His gaze was fixed on three towering green pillars, each capped with jagged spikes, like the world's angriest cacti. Golden inscriptions spiraled up the stone like they were trying to escape, their meaning hidden beneath layers of ancient mystery—or just bad handwriting.

Behind him, the crowd fidgeted impatiently, packed together like sardines and muttering in disdain. 

"What's the hold-up?" someone grumbled. "He's been standing there for ages, staring at the Azebok pillars like he's waiting for them to start a conversation."

"He's not really trying to force enlightenment, is he?" another scoffed. "That's impossible. Who does he think he is?"

"Waste of time. If you're useless, you're useless. Why drag the rest of us into it?"

The criticism swelled into a noisy clamor, but the young man remained as unmoved as a rock—no, like a rock with better hair. His eyes narrowed even further, almost completely shut, as if he was focusing on something only he could see. Then, out of nowhere, he chuckled—a low, dry sound, more amused than bitter.

"So, the old man was right after all," he muttered under his breath. "The gods aren't ignoring me… they just don't think I'm worth the time."

A grim smile tugged at his lips as he finally tore his gaze from the pillars and turned to face the crowd. The moment their eyes met his, they quickly looked away, like schoolchildren caught in the act. Their earlier bravado evaporated, leaving only awkward silence.

He sighed, the weight of the moment fading as quickly as it had come. "Well, that's that." Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the murmuring crowd in his wake.

"Of course," someone muttered behind him, dripping with sarcasm. "Now he's just going to sleep it off."

The young man ignored them, descending from the mountain-like platform the pillars stood on. Around him, the landscape shifted, revealing more of Elandor City—a small but thriving county tucked away at the edge of the southern Valaryn Continent. 

The city's modest buildings gradually came into view, their rooftops poking through the green canopy of surrounding forests. It was all so peaceful, which made the tension from the pillars feel even more ridiculous in hindsight.

His footsteps took him through the bustling streets, past the shops and homes that made up the city's heart, until he reached a large, imposing mansion. He paused briefly, eyeing the grand structure with mild disinterest, before veering off toward a small, modest house next door. It was a simple, tidy place, with just enough space for two people—though at the moment, only one seemed to live there.

Without a second thought, he collapsed onto the small bed in the corner of the room, drifting into a deep sleep almost immediately. It was exactly what the crowd at the pillars had predicted, leaving one to wonder if those people could, indeed, foresee the future.

The moment the young man's eyes fluttered shut, he was pulled into a familiar abyss—a suffocating void that felt like it could crush the soul itself. Darkness enveloped him, thick and oppressive, yet his face remained calm. It wasn't his first time here. No, it was almost routine by now. Another day, another doom-filled abyss.

Then, as if the void had grown bored, the darkness receded, revealing a landscape stretching endlessly in all directions. A place once lush, now reduced to smoldering ruins. Charred earth, shattered boulders, and a lingering sense of misery lay before him, as though chaos had been having a bad day and decided to take it out on the scenery.

Despite the devastation around him, the young man didn't so much as flinch. He strolled through the wasteland with the air of someone calmly walking through a park, if that park had been ground zero for a magical apocalypse. The wind picked up, whipping against him in ferocious gusts, as if it resented his nonchalance. His long black hair snapped in the wind, but he waved a hand lazily, and the wind vanished, obedient like a chastised puppy.

"Gale-force winds? Sure, why not." He sighed. "I've had worse."

The oppressive atmosphere that had threatened to flatten him moments ago lifted, as if the world itself was backing off in deference. The land stilled, awaiting his next move. He gazed up at the sky, where three colossal entities loomed, each one more ridiculous than the last.

To the left, a gigantic, unmoving eye hung in the sky like some cosmic bouncer. It didn't blink, didn't twitch—just stood in eerie stillness. Creepy? Yes. But it was old news by now.

To the right, a massive, pulsating heart floated, radiating ominous energy with every beat. Dark tendrils of power snaked around it, as though the heart was both a source of life and the very darkness that had yanked him into this mess. The heart beat steadily, its rhythm unsettlingly loud, like it was trying to sound important.

And directly above, a white sun glowed. Its light wasn't warm, like you'd expect from a sun. No, it was more like the overhead lights in a creepy basement—cold, pale, and just a little too intense. But there was power in it, subtle and menacing, like it was biding its time.

He glanced between the three entities, then focused on the unblinking eye. "Old man," he muttered, breaking the awkward silence that had stretched long enough.

The eye, true to its eerie nature, didn't react.

With a sigh, he tried again, his voice laced with frustration. "Old man, I still can't get any of the gods' powers. I mean, none. Zero. What gives? You connected to this mess somehow?"

For the first time, the massive eye twitched—just a tiny tremor, like it was annoyed but too dignified to show it. The young man chuckled at the sight, more amused than worried.

"Yeah, I thought so," he said, smirking. "You and your secrets. Fine, I won't pry. But don't think for a second that I'm letting my guard down around you. I'm cautious by nature, you know. It's a survival thing."

The eye stopped trembling. Slowly, it began to open, and with it came a wave of suffocating pressure, like a cosmic heavyweight was about to step into the ring. Yet the young man didn't flinch, his expression barely changing.

As the eye fully opened, it revealed an intricate red pupil, swirling with complex patterns—patterns that could probably suck the soul out of anyone foolish enough to stare too long. It was the kind of thing that screamed, Look away or be obliterated.

But he didn't look away. Of course, he didn't.

Then, without warning, an ancient voice, deep and ominous, echoed from the eye itself.

"Boy, you dare call me 'old man'? Do you even know who I am?"

The young man's smirk widened. "Of course, I know. Heaven's Devourer."

The eye's pupil shrank, as though caught off guard, a flicker of surprise breaking through its godlike composure. Then, from deep within, a low, rumbling chuckle echoed across the desolate land.

"So, you know my name," the voice boomed, rich with amusement. "Yet where is the fear that should freeze your blood? Where is the reverence? You call me 'old man' as if I am some mere relic, when I am the force that devours the stars!"

The young man shrugged, unbothered. "Stars, empires, solar systems… Sure, I get it. But you're still old."

The eye narrowed, a ripple of barely contained fury coursing through the air. "You mock me, mortal. I am the unseen hand that shapes fate itself, the eternal storm that rends the heavens! And you dare speak to me with such… insolence?"

"Well, when you put it like that—yeah." He chuckled, eyes gleaming with mischief. "But you've got a great voice, I'll give you that. Ever thought of doing voiceovers?"

The sky seemed to darken in response, the voice deepening, more menacing now. "Understand this! I am not some flicker of light, destined to fade. I am the abyss that consumes all. I am power incarnate. I am wrath made flesh. And still, you, a mere speck, would treat me like nothing more than a nuisance?"

The world trembled beneath the weight of the eye's rage. The skies roared with thunder, and shockwaves rippled through the land. But the young man stood firm, arms crossed, as if waiting for the tantrum to end.

When the booms of the heavens final

ly subsided, he gave the eye a casual glance and quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you done?"