——————————
I cracked my neck, stretching my arms as I stood amidst the torture cells.
Blood pooled around my feet, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor. The air smelled of iron, sweat, and fear.
Ah.
Fear.
It was delicious.
The golden sigil in the air continued to glow faintly, marking the divine contract I had just signed, feeling a pressing weight down my very soul for a small minute before it vanished.
hmmm
It must be the effect of the sigil.
But honestly?
I couldn't care less.
Because right now?
I wanted a cigarette.
Sighing dramatically, I ran a hand through my messy black hair.
"Alright," I said, exhaling. "But before we continue—I want a cigarette."
The gods, who had been watching with their grand, divine judgment, suddenly seemed to freeze as the incoming messages stopped.
[System Alert: The gods are speechless.]
A moment of complete, absolute silence.
Then—
Laughter.
