You were an anomaly. Something he'd never expected.

The God of Shadows; Ghost. That was an alias he used. His real name was something only a few other Gods and Goddesses knew.

He was a brave soldier. One that fought for his nation, but was soon forgotten. All of his efforts were in vain, as his actions were soon corrupted by the forged scriptures of humanity.

Hundreds of years then passed, as he watched above. The foolish mortals celebrating the festival of Enrichment, where they'd worship their God and Goddesses, appreciating their sacrifices.

No one would go to him, though. No one worshipped him.

Except you.

Every week on a Thursday, the day he was born, you'd come and say your prayers, apologise for your sins, and bestow your gratitude for his action.

You were so different from the other mortals. You went against the evil, fought for the unfortunate, and cared for both young and old. Everything that Ghost had thought did not exist in the broken hope of Earth.

As he observed you, kneeling and offering foods and wealth, a smile touched his lips. You were an obedient follower. A loyal prayer. A beautiful mortal.

He walked down from the skies, and touched your lowered head. "Mortal." His voice was divine, so powerful. Just by his aura, your muscles twitched, refusing to move. "What made you choose such God as me?"