Here is your chapter translated into English, keeping your style and tone:
Chapter 1 – A God With Too Much Free Time
There are worlds that burn.
Worlds that scream.
Worlds that beg for salvation.
And then there was this world.
Silent.
Orderly.
Boring.
The god of this world sat on his throne and stared into nothingness.
Not because he was sad.
Not because he was tired.
But because nothing was happening.
No wars.
No intrigues.
No heroes accidentally destroying kingdoms.
Not even a demon arriving late to the apocalypse.
He had done his job well.
Too well.
"Perfect," he muttered.
And grimaced as if he had just tasted cold coffee.
Perfection was terrible.
Perfection was stagnation.
So God did what he always did when he was bored.
He watched humans.
Falum was… small.
Not metaphorically.
Not in the sense of "insignificant."
He was physically tiny.
A man who looked like someone had accidentally set his character creation slider to "minimum."
Short legs.
Narrow shoulders.
A body that looked more designed for thinking than moving.
He lay on the floor of his room.
Not on the bed.
Not on a chair.
On the floor.
Around him:
A chessboard
A laptop
Empty cups
A half-eaten sandwich
And his mother shouting through the door:
"FALUM! YOU'RE THIRTY! DO YOU WANT TO DIE ALONE?!"
"Later," Falum muttered, moving a knight.
Not forward.
Backward.
Always backward.
Falum was the best chess player in the world.
Not because he attacked.
But because he refused to lose.
His defense was infamous.
Unbreakable.
Stubborn.
Immovable.
They called it:
The Falum Defense.
Like gum.
People chewed on it.
And never got through.
Grandmasters hated him.
Commentators despaired.
"This isn't chess!" they shouted.
"This is a waste of time!"
Falum just shrugged.
Wasting time was better
than losing everything.
God leaned forward.
"Interesting," he said.
Not because of his size.
Not because of his mother.
But because of his mindset.
Falum didn't play to win.
He played to avoid losing.
And in a perfect world,
where nothing was at stake,
that was…
revolutionary.
So God appeared.
Not with thunder.
Not with light.
But… politely.
"Falum," said a voice.
Falum didn't look up.
"If this is another scam, I don't have money."
"I am God."
Falum thought for a moment.
Then said:
"Okay. What do you want?"
God blinked.
"A game."
Falum slowly sat up.
He scanned the room.
No hallucination.
No exhaustion.
No pizza-induced illusion.
"What do I get if I win?"
God smiled.
"Everything."
Falum nodded.
"And if I lose?"
"Nothing."
That was the moment
Falum smiled.
Just slightly.
"Then I choose the game."
God, who had not lost in eons,
nodded.
"Of course."
Falum reached into his pocket.
Pulled out a coin.
"Heads or tails."
Silence.
The coin flew.
Spun.
Fell.
Falum caught it.
Looked.
And flipped it over.
"I win."
God looked at the coin.
Then at Falum.
Then at reality.
And laughed.
When Falum opened his eyes again,
he was no longer in his room.
He stood on an island.
The sky was clear.
The air was light.
His body felt… efficient.
A window appeared in front of him.
Status: God
Trait: Lazy
Desire: To be left alone
Falum sighed.
"Typical," he said.
"Now I have everything…
and still no plan."
Somewhere, very far away,
a new world began.
And Falum had absolutely no desire
to rule it.