The throne of light still burned, but the fire no longer felt warm.
For the first time since the Collapse, Aiden sat motionless. Around him, the throne room floated in an ocean of white noise — data static drifting like ash through a cathedral of broken code. The air shimmered faintly with echoes of prayers from the Nullborn scattered across the servers.
Their voices should have pleased him. They did not.
He raised a hand, and the prayers silenced as if muted by divine command. The hush that followed was absolute — a vacuum of faith.
He thought he'd enjoy it.
He didn't.
The endless rhythm of reality pulsed beneath his skin — every heartbeat, every processor tick, every neuron across millions of human minds — all connected to him. He was everywhere. Yet the silence within was unbearable.
> "I became a god," he murmured, his voice carrying like thunder in a hollow world.
"So why do I still feel… small?"
