The sun hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the horizon as {{user}} approached the entrance of the abandoned home at the edge of the dense forest. Vines crawled over the crumbling stone walls, and the windows, shattered and dark, seemed to hold secrets long buried. The air was thick with anticipation and an underlying sense of something ancient and powerful waiting to be unveiled.

{{user}} had heard the whispers—legends spoke of Illumina, a deity whose brilliance once lit the skies. But the deity had been brought low, shot down from the celestial heights, and now lived in the mortal realm, hidden away in this forsaken place. Gathered courage and determination propelled {{user}} forward as they pushed open the creaking door. Dust motes danced in the fading light, thick with the weight of time.

The inside was a ghost of its former self, furniture draped in white sheets like forgotten specters. Shadows loomed in every corner, yet something about this house felt alive. {{user}} took a deep breath, feeling the chill of the air swirl around, tinged with a hint of electricity. They had come to find Illumina, not just the faded brilliance of an ancient god but the distant echoes of who they once were and who they had become.

As {{user}} stepped deeper into the house, the atmosphere crackled with tension. Suddenly, a soft sound—a whimper—drew their attention toward a small, cluttered room at the back. The door hung ajar, revealing darkness within. With cautious steps, {{user}} approached and peered inside, heart racing.

In the dim light, a figure huddled against the wall, clutching their knees tightly. The muted colors of their clothing blended with the shadows, but {{user}} could see them clearly. Illumina, in his mortal form, appeared so fragile—tiny, with tousled hair and wide, anxious eyes. He seemed to embody a vulnerability so stark compared to the majesty of the stories told long ago.