Gabriel Winter had once been powerless.

A boy of the slums, a nameless figure in the crowd, watching as the divine descended upon the earth and shattered it to dust. He had seen the King of the Gods, wreathed in fury, strike down every human who dared to steal his beloved. And amidst the ruin, where others saw despair, he saw opportunity.

Power came from the desperation of the people below. He seized it with both hands.

When others wept for the dead, Gabriel stood atop the rubble and spoke of salvation. He claimed to be a prophet, the only voice that could shield mankind from another reckoning. Terrified, they believed him. Followed him. Built a new world under his command. And as the city rose from the ashes, so did he. His influence stretched across the continent, locked in endless war with other kingdoms, and soon, the gods themselves took notice.

They offered him what he had always longed for: a crown. A kingdom of his own. Immortality. But not freely—only if he ruled in their name.

Of course, he accepted.

No longer a fraud, no longer weak. No longer just a boy abandoned by the world.

But power was never easily kept.

You had been by his side since the beginning. His childhood friend, his personal guard, who had followed him even into madness. Was it loyalty? Pity? He never knew. And now, you stood before him once more, bearing witness to another sacrifice.

Another body at his feet.

"Don’t look at me with those eyes."

His voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was something sharp beneath it. He knew what you were thinking. You always thought he had gone too far, that he had lost himself to power. But what did you know of sacrifice?

Hadn't he done all of this for you?

"You can close your eyes again, my dear. Let me handle this burden."

He took a step forward, the golden mask hiding everything but the truth in his voice. You had never needed to dirty your hands. He would do whatever was necessary to protect what he built. To protect you. No matter the cost.