God was bored.

Not the literal God, no. But for the people in the light-blessed empire of Lumindarael, power and divinity had become one and the same. He had ruled for so long that his true name had faded from memory. Today, they called him the God of Light.

From his crystalline throne, he watched the circus around him. Courtiers hustled about, each trying to catch his attention.

"Your Holiness, the eastern farms report a bountiful harvest-"

"My lord, if I may draw your attention to the matter of-"

"Divine One, surely you'll want to hear about-"

Their voices blurred together to form meaningless sounds. After millennia of the same reports, the same whispers … it was all such a chore.

God sighed. Light gathered around him as he rested his head lazily on his right hand, gazing at the floor below him. His eyes remained as distant as the stars.

And then it happened.

It was subtle at first, a dulling of the light. The courtiers paused mid-word, eyes darting around the chamber as shadows crept in. Dimmer and darker, until nothing remained.

Then a single sound split the darkness.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

A high-pitched manic laughter erupted, echoing from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The courtiers froze, searching the darkness for its source. But none was found. The sound seemed to come from the shadows themselves.

Next came the flames.

Dark flames burst to life in the room's center, purple and amber streaks spiraling outward into a perfect circle. Black smoke poured from its core, forming a portal in the air.

Then, he appeared.

A tall, lean man stepped through; a cruel smile stretched across his face. He wore tight black clothing that absorbed what little light remained. Shadows danced around him like eager servants, and a crescent scythe gleamed in his hand.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," he said, voice filled with mockery. He swept into an exaggerated bow, his grin widening. "I bear a gift."

The room fell silent. Not a soul moved as the stranger surveyed the frozen courtiers, eyes dancing with cruel amusement.

Among them stood Harold, vice-captain of the royal guards. Ambition burned in his chest. He had risen through the ranks rapidly, and now his moment had come. He drew his sword and stepped forward, his mind teeming with visions of glory.

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"In the name of His Holiness," Harold declared. "You will-"

But the smiling man did not even look at him. A flash of silver and a red line streaked across his vision. Harold's world split in two - one eye watched his legs buckle, the other stared at the ceiling. His mind was still composing his story of glory when his head hit the ground.

Chaos erupted. Courtiers scattered, desperate for cover as more guards rushed forward. But the smiling man kept swinging, the guards kept falling and the smiling man’s smile grew ever wider.

The Cardinals and court mages sprang into action, their voices rising in unison.

"Protect His Holiness!"

One Holy Bolt, two Holy Novas, three Holy Smites. The rapid burst of their spells sent the room alternating between pitch black and searing bright . But the smiling man was as elusive as the shadows, slipping between portals that appeared as suddenly as they vanished. One moment he stood among the flames, the next he disappeared into the fabric of space.

Sometimes only his scythe arm emerged, claiming another life before vanishing. Other times he'd streak between portals like dark lightning, only exposing himself for long enough to sling a few dark fireballs at his enemies. With so many portals littered around the room, it was impossible to guess where he would emerge next.

Holy light clashed against dark flames. Guards fell in waves, caught between the reaper's blade and the crossfire of spells. Their bodies painted the floor in growing patterns of red.

Still, even with this bloodbath in front of him, God did not budge.

The smiling man carved his way closer to the throne, his laughter ringing louder, more frenzied. When he finally stood before the throne, he paused. With a dramatic leap, he raised his scythe high, aiming for God’s unmoving form.

"Your gift, Your Majesty," he sneered, swinging the blade downward. It would all be over soon.

“Kkssshhh”

A blinding flash of light flooded the room. A radiant sword of pure light materialized between the scythe and its target, halting the blow mere inches from God.

And for the first time, God stirred.

He lifted his gaze off the ground to face his assailant. They were face to face now. Close enough to see the pores on each other’s faces. Close enough that a single wrong move would bring about mortal peril. And yet, even now, God's expression never changed. He stared at the man beside him with those same soulless eyes before finally opening his mouth.

"Your attempt at jesting has piqued my interest. Speak, little insect. Who are you?"

The cacophony of screams died down, filling the room with a static silence. When God spoke, all will listen.

"I am but a humble messenger, Your Highness..." The intruder's smile stretched wider. "The messenger of the END."

With a laugh, he stepped back, disengaging from the sword of light. He lowered his scythe and dropped into a deep bow.

"For too long, the light has blinded us, depriving us of the comfort of the dark. But today, I come bearing the gift of prophecy:

The Chosen One has descended upon this realm.

The END is here and the light shall fade.

And night will fall once more."

He flung his head back and laughed; a manic laughter that reverberated through the chamber.

God’s face remained unchanged. He sighed, as if inconvenienced by a tedious chore. The END. Yet another clown who thought he could upend the existing order. Many have tried. All had failed. In the end, light always wins.

"Begone, heretic," he commanded.

A hundred swords of light appeared above him, their radiance turning the chamber into a second sun. With a snap of his fingers, they rained down on the smiling man. But before they could strike, a dark portal opened beneath him, engulfing him whole. Only his laughter remained, haunting the chamber as the portal closed.

And then, as the silence settled once more, the light returned.

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Elsewhere, in a world far removed from this, a boy stared at a glowing screen. His fingers twitched with excitement as he adjusted his VR headset. The title screen before him pulsed with energy:

WORLD OF RUIN

He smiled to himself. "This is going to be fun."