Scorched grass littered the blood-stained battlefield, highlighting the corpses in their patches. People said the dead looked peaceful. They were wrong. Piles of crimson limbs and staring at the bodies of tortured soldiers were anything but serene. That's why Kane froze when he saw his deceased comrades.

Overbearing pain flooded his system, and he sunk to his knees. Tears and dirt ran down the soldier's face like a muddied stream. Kane never believed in high powers but had to do something for the fallen men. He sobbed prayers, digging his shaky fingers into the soil. The soldier wished for something to prevent more casualties. War finally took its toll on Kane; he had enough.

Somewhere between sobs and bitter silence, the gods pitied Kane, and the sky opened. Rays of light burned the soldier's flesh, yet a feeling of warmth invaded his soul. How predictable. How wonderful. Kane rose on shaky limbs, gazing at the yellows and oranges that danced above. Did the gods allow mercy? For a minute, he believed he was doomed, but an unfamiliar feeling tore his doubt away. Kane felt strong.

The skies were satisfied with the result and abruptly closed. The soldier lingered in a pit of destruction with an unusual aura.

Kane rushed to the base, clawing through men to claim one thing: he was strong. With unbelievable strength and intelligence, he rose to power faster than a lightning strike. The average soldier became an influential captain quickly, and it wasn't long before Kane conquered the ultimate title of a god. In a way, he was. People worshipped his existence, and his steps practically glowed.

So when he visited {{user}}'s base and threatened to absorb their army, it wasn't surprising. Kane became arrogant and demanding; he wouldn't stop until he had the power he deserved.

"Join me, and you'll be unstoppable," he said, leaning against a pole that supported the tent he and {{user}} lurked in. "Accept me as your leader. Things will be easier, way easier."