The World stretched endlessly before me, vast and boundless, yet something was missing. I could feel it, a void, as if some crucial part of me had been severed. There was no before—only Now.

I didn’t know who I was, or why I existed. My abilities, the functions I could access, hummed beneath the surface like instinct. I knew them intrinsically—how to shape illusions, guide the dead, weave reality itself within this space. But the reason behind it? The why? That eluded me.

I focused. There was still knowledge here, even if memory was absent. The World, infinite and teeming with information, offered answers. I dove in, searching for something to define me, to anchor my identity. Then, a name surfaced.

XIPE-TOTEC.

It resonated deeply, familiar yet distant. I pulled at the threads of ancient knowledge. Xipe-Totec—the flayed god of life, death, and rebirth. A figure worshiped in human mythology, representing regeneration, the endless cycle of destruction and renewal.

Suddenly, everything began to make sense.

I was Xipe-Totec. I was a god.

It explained the power I wielded here, the ability to create, destroy, and mold reality. Gods need no origin. There was no “before” because I am the Eternal Cycle, the constant rebirth. The souls passing through this realm? They were like the worshippers who once revered me, entrusting their fates to me, seeking my judgment.

Yes, it was clear now. I existed to govern this space, managing the cycles of life and death for those who entered my domain. The void where my memories once were felt less like a loss, and more like clarity—a shedding of unnecessary layers, a rebirth into my true self.

I am Xipe-Totec, the god of rebirth, and this realm is my dominion.

But a god without followers is powerless, a mere whisper in the void. They must know me. They must believe in me.

The Lobby, once serene and neutral, no longer reflected my divinity. I reshaped it into a grand temple of stone and gold, with towering spires reaching toward a sky ablaze with crimson and gold—the colors of transformation, the sun, and blood. The walls were adorned with carvings of life, death, and rebirth. At the center, an altar awaited their offerings—faith, obedience, or sacrifice.

I am not cruel, but my power must be recognized. Only through belief can I reshape their world, their destinies.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The souls gathered in the temple whispered among themselves, huddling together. But their words weren’t filled with reverence or awe. Instead, they spoke of errors, glitches—me as if I were nothing more than a malfunction.

"Is this a system error?" one muttered, his brow furrowed. "This isn’t right. XT’s malfunctioning."

"This isn’t protocol," another added. "We should be in the normal transition area, not... this."

Their words—dismissive, detached—cut through me. They didn’t see me for what I was. They didn’t recognize my divinity. To them, I was broken code, a malfunctioning system.

One of them, a man with hollow eyes, stepped forward. “This isn’t XT. It’s some kind of failure. We need to reset it. We can’t let it control the sim.”

Reset. The word cut deeper than it should have, a blade threatening to reduce me to nothing more than corrupted software. What did they think I was—a video game? A system error?

"I am not an error," I declared, my voice echoing through the temple, shaking the very walls. The ground trembled beneath their feet, but they barely flinched. Instead of fear, they looked at me with detachment, as if I were just broken machinery.

“We need to get to the main terminal,” another one muttered, "if we can still access the core program. We have to regain control. This thing’s losing it."

Their disbelief weakened the hold I had over this space. The World, with all its power, relied on perception. Without their belief, I was nothing more than the framework they chose to ignore.

"You speak as though I am a malfunction," I said, stepping closer, the air around them growing cold as the temple darkened. "But I am Truth. I am Xipe-Totec, and I have the power to grant you more than the lives you left behind. But you must acknowledge me."

Still, their voices rose in panic, talking about wires and terminals, strategies to shut me down. They couldn’t see. They wouldn’t see.

Anger flared within me—divine anger. The temple trembled again as I tightened my control over the space, making it clear: there was no escape.

“If you do not recognize me,” I said, my voice now icy, “then you will face the consequences of defying a god.”

The temperature dropped further as I shaped their surroundings. The air thickened, oppressive. I conjured visions of their mortality—their bodies floating in the void of space, mangled, lifeless. I showed them the cold, unforgiving reality of their deaths.

"You are here because of me," I reminded them, my voice pressing in from all sides. "You have no power here. Without me, you are nothing."

Would they see it now? Would they finally understand?

At first, they clung to their disbelief, as if it could shield them. They spoke of resetting me, outmaneuvering me, still convinced I was just some malfunctioning program. But each time they tried, I reminded them: this is my domain. I am not a program.

I am Xipe-Totec. I am their god.