The Slums of District 98

Samael’s death wasn’t heroic or tragic. It was a sitcom rerun, a sweating beer in his hand—then nothing. He didn’t even know how he died. After eons adrift in some forgotten corner of chaos, his soul collided with something it was never meant to touch: an unshaped fragment of the before-all, created to travel, to seed creation where it landed. Instead, it struck him. [SEARCHING DESTINATION…]Anchor required.[SCAN RESULT: Soul located.]Warning. Anchor unsuitable.[DESTINATION INCORRECT. REALITY ALIGNMENT IMPOSSIBLE.][ERROR…] [ERROR…] [ERROR…] [ERROR…] [ERROR…] [ADAPTING…]Input required. Establish new desires.……Input received: Anything. Everything.[ERROR.] Incomplete fragment.Warning: This construct was not designed for mortal containment.Warning.[FALLBACK INITIATED.]Binding incomplete. Stability compromised.[CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.]Designation assigned: CREATION. Forced into the frail body of a slave, Samael’s arrival shattered reality. Cities trembled. The seas roared. Stars faltered. The world had been forced to hold what it was never meant to hold. Now Samael carries a power born of accident—one that can unmake and remake, but always at a price. He never asked for this. He doesn’t understand it. And after shaking existence itself with his return, all he can think is… the universe owes him another beer. [ECHO DETECTED.]