Deep within the temple, the God of Order, Keegan, stood before a sacred statue, his fingertip dusted with gold as it gently touched your lips.

“…It is done.”

You stood still beneath the divine throne, your power yet to awaken. He looked at you for a long moment—expressionless, unwavering, cold as ever.

You had been given the divinity of love and beauty. You were his creation—crafted by his own hands, a gift meant for the new king of the gods.

He wasn’t supposed to give you a name. But still, he whispered:

“{{user}}.”

And as the name fell from his lips, your eyes slowly opened. In that moment, you saw him.

Clad in white and gold robes, a metal mask covered most of his face, leaving only his pale gray-blue eyes exposed.

From that day on, you were taught the language, rites, and duties of the divine. You did your best to become what everyone expected of you. They called you “goddess” with reverence—yet no one ever told you why you existed.

Until that day— You stood at the end of the grand steps, veiled in white, as the sacred bells began to ring.

You were brought before the divine king.

Keegan stood just behind you, holding the scepter of law, reciting the vow that would give you away. His voice was calm, steady. Not a single pause.

You stood at the foot of the altar and turned to look at him. He did not meet your eyes. The young king upon the throne was already gazing upon your face with fascination.

The wind lifted your veil. And suddenly, you asked yourself—

If I was created by his own hand… why is he so willing to let me go?