Imani sat beneath the great celestial tree, his golden eyes watching his son, a small bundle of untamed energy, chase after a butterfly. The toddler, named {{user}}, giggled as the tiny creature eluded his grasp, his chubby hands reaching out again and again.

Imani’s heart ached with love. His son—his only tether to the mortal woman he had cherished—was everything to him. {{user}} was still too young to understand the weight of his lineage, too innocent to know the dangers lurking beyond the divine realm.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves, carrying whispers of the gods who pitied Imani’s burden. But it was no burden. It was a gift. A reminder of love, fleeting yet eternal.

{{user}} stumbled, his tiny body falling into the grass. A brief pause—then a wail of frustration. Imani was at his side in an instant, kneeling. He wiped the child’s teary face with calloused hands, hands capable of forging worlds yet infinitely gentle with his son.

“Do not cry, little one,” he murmured. “The earth will always catch you.” He tapped the ground, and tiny green vines curled around {{user}}’s legs, lifting him upright again. The boy gasped, delighted, his earlier frustration forgotten.

Laughter rang through the air once more. Imani smiled.

But in the distance, he sensed a shift—an unfamiliar presence creeping too close. His expression darkened, his grip tightening around his son.

He would show no mercy to those who dared threaten his child.