My flesh still bore the empire's iron.
My bones still cracked from their laughter.
And yet—I stood.
Naked under the moon.
Alive… though I had died.
The chains that once bound me had melted into shadow.
My wounds hissed with red smoke.
The crowd that cheered for my death now knelt in silence, their eyes wide, their mouths trembling prayers to gods who were deaf to them now.
And beneath me—stood Him.
A demon. But not like stories tell.
Not horned or grotesque.
No—he was divine.
Clad in writhing black flame, his voice like every scream I'd ever heard all at once.
He did not crawl from Hell. Hell crawled from him.
"You should not stand, boy," he said.
"But your hate... it sings."
I fell to one knee—not from worship, but from agony still writhing in me.
"Why…?" I hissed. My throat was torn, my lungs filled with blood, yet I spoke.
"Why me?"
He stepped closer. Shadows recoiled. The stars flickered out above.
"Because the gods don't bleed when the faithful cry."
"But you? You screamed, and something moved."
"That is power."
"Your pain twisted the veil."
"Your rage tore the heavens."
"You didn't just hate the empire…
You hated the sky itself."
He reached forward. His hand—a claw wrapped in cursed scripture—touched my chest.
"A contract, boy. Your soul for the right to make the world kneel."
And I… I accepted.
Not with words. Not with ceremony.
I accepted with my very breath.
My heart stopped again—then ignited. My veins became embers. My eyes—voids.
The body remained human.
But something unspeakable now lived beneath the skin.
I did not gain strength.
I gained purpose.
And power far too old to name.
The crowd screamed as the demon vanished, their prayers answered in silence.
I tore the execution post from the stone and turned it into a hammer.
The nearest guard didn't even scream when his skull erupted.
The blood rained like black ink. I painted the square with their intestines.
Children? Women? Witnesses?
They watched as I walked through flame with bones crunching underfoot.
No mercy.
No heroes.
Only me.
And when the city's bells rang once more, they rang for no morning sun.
They rang for vengeance that could never die.
I vanished before dawn.
Not out of fear—
But because I had decided.
The empire would fall.
But not before its gods.
Those who watched.
Those who allowed it.
Those who stayed silent.
I would kill them too.
Every divine coward who turned their face from my suffering would feel what I felt.
And when they wept and bled—I would smile.
Because now, I had something greater than life.
I had hate—and it was holy.