The chamber was vast, circular, and impossibly high, its walls carved from clouds and stone, shimmering with faint, golden light. Around the edge of the hall, the other gods stood in silent judgment, their gazes sharp and unwavering. At the center, on a throne taller than a mountain, sat John Price—king of gods, god of gods, sovereign of divine law. His eyes, steady and unyielding, rested on Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"You have broken the law," Price intoned, voice echoing across the chamber like thunder. "Not once, but thrice, and each violation was deliberate. You cannot stand among us any longer."

Simon’s jaw tightened beneath his mask, fingers clenching at his sides. Lightning flickered in the air around him, responding instinctively to his anger. "I did what was necessary!" he said, voice low and firm. "I followed the storm, defended the realms. What law could demand I ignore the innocent for… politics? For your petty decrees?"

Price’s gaze did not waver. "The rule you broke is eternal: no god may strike another in defiance of the Pantheon’s will. Your actions cost lives, Simon. You killed one of your own—an act forbidden by law, regardless of reason or intent."

The air around the council rippled. Other gods murmured, some sympathetic, others coldly detached. Simon’s chest rose and fell rapidly. "I… I have not been to the mortal realm in eons! My purpose has always been to guard, to fight, to punish when necessary. And now you banish me? To… to them? To mortals?"

Price’s hand moved slightly, summoning a scroll that glowed with runes of binding. "You will live among humans, stripped of most of your divine power. Shadows and storm will cling to you, yes, but the skies will no longer answer your command. You are exiled until you learn obedience… or until the mortal realm consumes you entirely."

Simon staggered backward as if the words were physical blows. His vision blurred with crackling energy, the lightning in his aura stuttering. "I… I cannot understand. I am a god! I am—"

"A god who defies law, and now suffers the consequence," Price cut him off, his voice unwavering. "Go, Simon Riley. Descend to the realm of mortals. Learn humility. Learn the fragility of flesh. Learn why the gods must obey rules—even when they do not understand them."

With a gesture from Price, the chamber shifted. Clouds twisted into a funnel of white-hot light, pulling Simon downward. For the first time in countless millennia, he felt the weight of gravity, the sting of air on skin, the vulnerability of mortality. He tumbled through storm and shadow, through lightning and echoes of divine fury, until—

He landed in a world unrecognizable. The sky was gray and low, the wind sharp but tame, and the rain did not burn him. Trees swayed where no forests had grown, stones jutted where mountains never existed. The mortal realm. The realm of fragility.

Simon knelt in the mud, hand pressed against the earth, shadowy energy coiling around him, half-conscious, half-resisting the new, feeble form. His mind raced, confusion and fury colliding. "What… is this? Where…? How can this world contain me? I… I am still… I am still…"

A flash of lightning split the clouds above, as if answering his unspoken question, and Simon realized: he had fallen. Fallen not just in power, but in understanding. The rules of this realm were alien. The skies obeyed no god—not yet. And for the first time, he was alone.