Chapter 13 – The Gift of Destiny

No one dared to laugh; silence fell.

Even Death did not speak a word. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the wind and the echo of blood droplets falling from Martyr's lifeless body.

The first to speak was God, and He said:

God: "My son... is dead. But before he did, he called you brothers. He recognized you as part of him, as part of his own struggle, and gave his life to urge me to stand by your side. I cannot, I will not, let his actions be in vain. His life must have meaning.

If you are his brothers, then that meaning must also reflect in your existence. This terrible monster, Death, is all that separates us from happiness.

But I... I cannot defeat him. I am weak. I have failed as a creator, as a guide... and as a father. I ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness from you, forgiveness from him. I have been a terrible father. I let him be the one to sacrifice himself while I stood helpless.

And yet, precisely because I cannot fight this battle, I leave you the hope of doing so. I leave you the responsibility of deciding what is right and what is wrong. I return to you everything I have always withheld: good and evil, the freedom to choose. What I give you is nothing less than destiny itself.

Will you fight and die in the name of his cause, following in the footsteps of your brother? Or will you flee, choosing the eternal abyss of sadness? It is up to you to decide what the right choice is.

But remember this: my son is dead, yes, but he did it with a smile. He embraced his destiny with an unwavering will. I can do nothing but apologize for leaving you the task of giving meaning to life. I have never found it.

And now I give you my final gift. Not my earthly body, but my very soul, offered in sacrifice. Eat it, make it yours, and through it you will receive the destiny that awaits you. A chance at redemption."

(He slowly turns toward Death)

God: "As for you... I believe I finally understand why you did not stop me before, and why you will not do so now.

You, who have known sadness, feel pity for me.

This awareness makes you less evil than you think you are. You are different from your brother.

He is pure malice, a corrupt essence with no hope of redemption. But in you... there is a spark of something else. A reflection of goodness, buried beneath layers of darkness.

That’s why, when I had the chance, I chose to kill him and not you. And if I could choose again, I would do it again. Because I have realized, in the end, that my cause was never to fight evil. My cause was to make my son happy.

And to do that, I need you all to believe in his battle. Stir your hearts. Devour what I am, accept my sacrifice, and face the destiny that awaits you with the courage he left you.

His life was the flame. Now, be the fire that burns in the name of what you believe."

At the end of his speech, God abandoned the fragile mud body He had possessed. Slowly, with a majesty that seemed to defy time itself, He revealed Himself in His true form. A figure of pure light, radiant and infinite, emanating a warmth that enveloped everything, almost maternal.

The light was not only visible but tangible: a caress that wrapped around all things. Death, for the first time, remained still. Not paralyzed by fear, but by a strange, inexplicable admiration. It was as if what was happening went beyond his understanding, beyond his ability to oppose.

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Then, the unimaginable happened. God’s body began to separate, fragment by fragment, into tiny particles of light. Each fragment hovered in the air, crossing the square and heading toward the terrestrials.

The terrestrials, as if it were a natural gesture, without hesitation, began to consume that light. They did not taste anything, nor feel any consistency; they only sensed an intense, almost burning heat that slowly spread through every fiber of their being.

That heat moved gently, from the heart to the hands, from the feet to the eyes, filling them with a new awareness, an inner flame that seemed to ignite something that had been dormant for too long.

God, fragmenting in that supreme sacrifice, became part of them. And His voice, no longer audible, seemed to still echo in their hearts, like a message carved into the very light.

The earth forming their bodies began to crumble, crackling and rising into small fragments that dissolved into the air. From the cracks opening along their limbs, torso, and face, living flesh began to emerge, pulsating, reassembling with unnatural perfection.

The metamorphosis did not happen all at once, but in a crescendo of disturbing and wonderful details. The fingers, once thick and irregular, elongated, articulating with precision. The faces, once devoid of defined features, began to shape themselves, the eyes forming, shining as if freshly sculpted from light.

Their bodies stood taller, growing in height, while the very structure of their bones reshaped, lengthening and strengthening. The blue veins began to pulse under their new skin, and the muscles defined themselves with anatomical precision. It was as if the flesh itself responded to a higher will, an energy infusing them with a newly born perfection.

Then something even more extraordinary happened.

As the physical transformation reached its peak, something changed in their minds. Their eyes widened, filled with a new awareness. It was as if the world had suddenly opened up before them in a clarity they had never known. Each of them felt, for the first time, their own identity, their own purpose.

And with that awareness came the gift.

A unique power began to manifest in each of them, as if God’s body, now an integral part of their essence, had bestowed upon them a primal strength. The hands of some began to glow, revealing the ability to generate flames; others felt an absolute control over the elements around them, as if the world itself responded to their will.

It was the will of Chaos flowing within them, the same divine energy that had shaped the universe. Now, the terrestrials were no longer mere creatures of mud. They were beings of flesh and power, fused with God’s will.

The square filled with a pulsing light, emanating from their bodies, each unique yet part of a single collective will. They had been reborn, transformed into something extraordinary. And as the glow faded, the silence was broken only by their deep breaths, full of a new determination.

Now, they were ready. No longer mere tools, but individuals with purpose and power, bearers of a flame that would never extinguish.

They were called the Demigods, and they were many—several thousand—but only two stood out at that moment: their names were Earth and Sky.