Ray jolted awake to a piercing pain that burned through every nerve in his body.
"Where… am I?" he groaned, voice hoarse.
A strange, almost familiar feeling flickered in his mind, but before he could grasp it, another wave of agony tore through him.
"FUCK!!" he roared, writhing as if his very soul was being shredded apart.
He didn't even realize it—he was kneeling before a throne. An empty throne that looked older than time itself, its very presence suffocating, ancient, and eternal.
When the agony dulled to something barely tolerable, exhaustion crashed over him like a tidal wave. He lifted his head, eyes dragging back to that lonely throne. That vague familiarity gnawed at his thoughts again.
But he was too tired.
Turning his head, Ray spotted a massive stairway behind him, spiraling downward into what looked like the abyss of hell itself. Shadows curled around it like hungry beasts.
"Hah… yeah, right. Like I'd actually go down there," he muttered, forcing a weak laugh before shifting his gaze back to the throne. "This will have to do…"
Ray crawled toward it, oblivious to the gaping wound in his chest that leaked blood with every movement. Ignoring the torment, he slumped onto the throne, collapsing into its cold embrace as though it had always been his.
His blood trickled down the ancient stone, seeping into cracks like an offering.
"Why… the pain… why the fuck do I have to bear this much pain?" he thought bitterly.
As if mocking him—or perhaps answering him—the agony suddenly vanished. Relief washed over him, and for the first time, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
But his body was already too weak. His vision dimmed, his breath faltered, and finally… he went still.
"Am I… going to die?" was his last thought before darkness devoured him.
And then—Ray was dead.
He died without understanding why or how. Without realizing the wound that had pierced his chest. Without knowing how he even got there.
His corpse sat slumped on the throne… a throne that looked older than eternity itself.
For the briefest moment, an aura of amusement shrouded the throne—and vanished.
Then Ray's eyes cracked open once more. His vision blurred, his body foreign. Something alien pulsed within him.
A voice, cold and divine, whispered in his ears.
---
[A pitiful creature, unknown, desecrated the Throne of the True God. Turning its back on the Veil of Existence, it dragged its pitiful body to the seat of divinity. Amused, the True God smiled, and for but a moment… spared it His attention.]
[You have received a Lineage: Inheritor of the True God – Lineage: Unknown.]
[You have received a Title: Inheritor of the Forsaken Throne.]
[You have been blessed with: 7 Shadows.]
[It is improper for a child—especially the inheritor of the True God—to not play. The True God has gifted you… Existence.]
---
Ray gasped, sucking in a desperate breath. The torment was gone. His body—whole again.
But before him… there was nothing. Nothing at all.
The silence was deafening.
---