I left the receptionist's office without saying anything. The golden doors shut behind me with a soft hiss, and for the first time since I'd stepped into that place, I let out a breath.
A low-class, high-tier god.
Whatever that meant, it sounded like trouble.
The streets of the divine district were quiet. Gold and white towers rose in every direction, each one housing a god or goddess who probably had far more experience than me. Some were decorated with massive statues of themselves. Others had floating gardens or glowing sigils spinning above their roofs. Mine? Just a small two-story house made of pale stone, wedged between a temple of songbirds and a guy who controlled rivers.
It felt almost like a suburban neighborhood, if your neighbors could casually create storms or reshape mountains.
When I stepped inside, the door closed itself behind me. The air was still. I'd tried to make the place feel a little human, simple furniture, a couch, a desk, a few books lying around. It was quiet, but not lonely.
I took off my slippers and walked over to the table in the corner. My mirror-pool sat there, glowing faintly. I leaned on the edge, staring at the water.
The surface rippled, showing flashes of the mortal world, villages rebuilding, soldiers resting, kids playing in the mud. And then came the whispers.
"God of protection… please keep our home safe."
"Lord of dreams, let my little one sleep without pain."
I smiled a little.
They were praying for help concerning their dreams again.
The mirror flickered, showing a woman kneeling by her bed. Her voice was shaky.
"Please… if you can hear me, let my son sleep without the screams tonight."
The image shifted to a boy tossing in his sleep. His face was wet with tears.
I placed my hand on the pool. I didn't have to say anything. I just thought about peace, about rest, and felt the threads of my authority move. The boy stopped shaking. His breathing evened out. A faint smile crossed his face.
I felt my chest tighten.
"Sleep easy, kid," I whispered.
One by one, the prayers kept coming.
A soldier haunted by what he'd done.
A mother who couldn't stop reliving the day she lost everything.
A young priest afraid that his faith wasn't enough.
Every time, I reached out. Sometimes I gave them quiet dreams of sunlight or the ocean, or the golden fields everyone was accustomed to. Sometimes I just took the nightmares away.
The more I did it, the stronger the divine energy holding my form became. I could feel it pulsing from my heart all the way through around my body.
Hours passed like that, and years in the mortal world passed along with them, I didn't count them. The prayers became gentler. The nightmares, fewer. People began to say my name differently.
"Guardian of the waking and the dreaming."
"The god who lets us rest."
That one stuck with me.
A day went by before something strange happened. While I was soothing another prayer, the mirror suddenly shimmered and a voice reverberated.
The prayers usually came soft, murmurs, quiet pleas that brushed against the edge of my consciousness like wind over still water.
But that night, one of them pulled me.
"Lord of protection… please, protect my family. The beast might come again tonight."
His voice trembled with desperation. I could feel it, real fear, not the kind people exaggerate for luck.
I leaned closer to the mirror, focusing. The image flickered, showing a small farmhouse near a forest, moonlight spilling across its fields. A man knelt beside his bed, hands clasped tight.
"The court of the Diarchs has tried," he whispered, "but it hides from them. It waits until they leave, and then… it comes back."
The plea didn't fade, it beaconed. Like a call waiting for me to answer.
"Alright, let's see what's keeping you up at night," I muttered, reaching toward the surface of the pool.
The world shifted. I found myself standing in a dream, his dream. The man was there, kneeling in the middle of a golden field of wheat, sickle in hand. He looked up and froze when he saw me.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice shaking.
"I'll look into your troubles," I said simply. My voice echoed strangely in this dreamscape. "rest now, Aron."
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I cut the dream before he could.
When I pulled back to the real world, I exhaled sharply. "Guess I'm doing night shifts now," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.
The mirror showed the man waking up gasping for air, sweat clinging to his shirt. He looked around frantically, then turned toward the small wooden symbol nailed above his bed, a pointed cross, and whispered,
"Thank you, Father. Thank you, thank you Sovereign Lord."
Those words felt different, they smelled and tasted like honey. They made my heart feel warmth unlike that from my other believers.
I was about to walk away, to make some tea or, I don't know, try not being involved for five minutes, when something moved at the edge of the mirror.
A figure. It stumbled out of the treeline, walking toward the farm.It looked human, well Sort of.
Its skin was pale and stretched thin, its movements jerky. The damn thing scratched the wooden fence with broken fingernails, making a sound that clawed its way down my spine.
"Of course it's a zombie," I muttered. "Can't just be a wild animal or a burglar, no, it's had to be a flesh-eating undead."
The thing dragged its hand along the fence again before slipping through the gap and walking straight toward the house. Its nails were nothing but cracked bone by now, but it didn't even flinch.
"Okay… time to improvise."
I reached outward with my authority of dreams and brushed against the mind of a wolf resting somewhere nearby. A little nudge, gentle, divine persuasion. The beast rose, trotted out of the forest, and moved toward the farmhouse.
The warped human reached the front yard and, without hesitation, grabbed a cow by the throat and ripped. The sound was wet and awful. The creature buried its face in the carcass, tearing through meat and bone. When it lifted its head, its muscles had swollen, veins glowing faintly.
"It levels up from eating steak too?"
The wolf arrived then. My consciousness slipped into its mind and body, feeling the rush of primal instinct surge through me. Everything sharpened, scent, sound, rage.
I lunged. The wolf's teeth sank into the creature's neck. The taste of rot hit me so hard I almost gagged. The monster screamed and threw us off. I hit the ground, rolled, and went at it again.
We crashed into the dirt. Claws, teeth, divine will.
But the thing was stronger than I expected. The wolf's ribs cracked. Pain flared. It stumbled, limping back, and fell by the fence, chest heaving.
"Dammit—" my consciousness pulled out of the wolf before its body gave out. My vision shifted back to the mirror. The zombie was already getting up again.
Alright. Plan B.
I looked toward the farmhouse where Aron lay unconscious, and I hesitated. Possession wasn't exactly comfortable for mortals. But if I didn't act now… his family was dead.
"Sorry, man," I muttered, placing my hand on the water. "You're about to have one hell of a night"
My consciousness entered him. The transition hit like static, his body strained under the sudden pressure of divine energy. I only let a quarter of my essence flow in. Any more and he'd break.
When I opened his eyes, I was inside his house. Wooden walls. The smell of smoke and livestock.
I conjured a spear of light, its warmth humming through my hand, jumped off the bed then stepped toward the bedroom door. I walked briskly towards the front door.
The latch burst open. The zombie stumbled inside, blood still dripping from its mouth.
I didn't hesitate. I drove the spear into its back. It screamed, a guttural, hollow sound, and arched forward. I twisted, conjured another spear, and jammed it straight into its head.
It didn't fall.
"What the hell are you made of?" I grunted, shoving it backward with a kick. It flew out through the door and hit the dirt outside.
"Daddy, what's going on?"
Two small voices came from the stairs. I turned, two kids, barely ten, staring at me wide-eyed.
"Nothing you need to see," I said, forcing a smile. "Back to your rooms."
His voice didn't sound possessed. It was only his voice that came out when I talked.
The boy blinked. "Are you… glowing?"
I sighed. "Just… bedtime, kid."
I stepped outside, spear humming. The zombie was already crawling towards me upright.
"Persistent, huh?" I muttered.
I swung the spear in a wide horizontal arc. The light cut clean through its neck. Its body skidded to a stop in the mud while its head rolled toward me, mouth still chomping at empty air before finally going still.
I crouched next to it, inspecting the head. Patches of hair missing, flesh sagging, teeth packed with old rot.
"What the hell happened to you…" I whispered.
Then, snap.
A twig broke somewhere ahead.
I looked up.
Red dots. Dozens of them. Eyes, glowing faintly between the trees.
"Oh, no. No no no. Don't tell me—"
More appeared. Ten. Thirty. Fifty. A whole crowd of glowing eyes staring back at me.
"Alright," I muttered, standing up. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."
"Daddy?"
I turned. The kids were back at the doorway.
Before I could speak, one of the things lunged out of the forest, screaming like a dying animal. I reacted instinctively, thrust my hand forward and released a telekinetic blast.
The zombie's neck snapped back; bones jutted from its throat. It staggered, stopped, then kept coming.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
I conjured another spear and swung upward. The head went flying. The little girl screamed; the boy's eyes went wide.
"Cool," he whispered.
"Not cool," I said through my teeth. "Inside. Now."
"But—"
A thunderous crack split the air as I drove my spear into the ground, divine energy bursting outward in a shockwave. The noise alone sent the kids stumbling back.
I looked at them, one scared, one amazed, and softened my tone. "Go inside. Please."
"You're safe," I said quietly. "All of you. I promise."
The forest howled. More shapes broke from the treeline, one after another, snarling and shrieking.
I tightened my grip on the spear. "Alright, you undead bastards," I muttered, smirking despite the chill crawling up my spine. "Let's see what keeps you walking."