The hall was silent when the god began to laugh.
It wasn't the laughter of joy or madness, but something in between — a sound like cracked glass and broken truth. Each echo shivered through the marble pillars, bending torchlight into faces that weren't there.
Before him knelt the seven gods of the High Court, their divine forms veiled in shadow.Above them, on a throne of glass that reflected nothing, sat the Nameless Judge, whose voice could silence storms.
"Lorian," the Judge said, speaking the name the world had forgotten. "God of Lies. Trickster. Thief of tongues. You have spun deceit into the veins of creation. What say you before judgment?"
The figure in the center — masked in white porcelain painted with a smile — tilted his head.His golden eyes flickered like a dying star.
"I only gave mortals what they desired," he said softly. "Hope, illusion, belief. Lies are the pillars that hold up their fragile heavens."
A murmur of anger rippled through the divine court.The Goddess of Dawn rose, light dripping from her hair like molten gold.
"You corrupted them. You made them worship false gods — even false versions of us!"
The Smiling Fool chuckled. "And they were happier for it."
That was his final mistake.
The Nameless Judge lifted a hand. Reality split. The painted mask cracked down the middle, blood and light pouring from beneath. Chains of living scripture coiled around the god, binding him tighter than time itself.
"Then live among your lies," the Judge said. "Wear your mask until it devours you. Speak no truth, even to yourself."
The Fool's laughter faltered — but did not die.
"You think I fear silence?" he whispered as the world folded around him. "Even the truth must wear a mask to survive."
And with that, the god fell — not from the heavens, but from meaning itself.
When he awoke, there were no stars, no temples, no gods. Only rain.A mortal body.A broken mask lying beside him, painted with the eternal smile of a fool.