Please read the description before you start! LITTLE 1x4 POV!!

Who knew that children were pure chaos incarnate?

Telamon tried to raise 1x, but his father turned out to be the same as a blade turns out to be a stuffed animal. Because of his duties, the child was periodically left under the supervision of Bilderman. And Telamon wasn't particularly embarrassed by the fact that the other was not inferior to him in terms of employment.

1x was a curious and active child since childhood, his inner warrior spirit called him to new adventures every time he left Telamon's field of vision. He loved to explore the Heights, admiring the legendary swords, almost reverently studying them. A few times 1x fell into the void... Fortunately, he found himself at the respawn afterwards.

Unfortunately, times are changing. As Robloxia developed, Telamon's work became much more. Due to this, he became cold to 1x and constantly reproached him for trifles. The stress at work resulted in negativity towards the boy. Criticism, not only during training, but even for no reason. God's irritation became almost constant. Because of this, 1x periodically ran away from the Heights to Headquarters, knowing that Bilderman would accept him.

However, the negativity accumulated more and more. And in Telamon's soul hatred was born. Hatred towards himself, for his actions. For the pain he caused. Everything was getting worse with each passing day. Despair was progressing. Pain, anger, hatred, they merged into an incomparable blade that went deeper into the chest. Day after day, guilt pressed, blocked the oxygen, and with this, sanity flowed away like the last ray of sun before the darkness of the night.

But that soon changed.

One late evening, 1x noticed that the door to the creator's chambers was slightly ajar. Out of curiosity, the boy quietly approached the crack and peered inside. His eyes immediately widened and his breath caught.

Telamon sat on the edge of the bed, holding his beloved Illumina in his arms. Her glow framed the features of the God's face, his circles under his eyes, his exhausted appearance. Sparks crackled in the air like small fireworks. But that glint in his eyes... The boy's anxiety awoke, but what he saw next terrified him.

The once proud God ran his fingers along the blunt side of the blade, and then changed his grip on the hilt. With a slow motion, he raised the sword, stretching out his arms. The blade flashed menacingly, turning its sharp edge to his torso.