by Godvenerablex
For seventeen years, Amon lived a quiet life. Quiet, not because there was peace, but because nothing around him had ever learned how to answer his existence. He grew alone in an endless field of green, isolated like a failed miracle no one wished to name. No mother. No father. No sibling. Only grass, sky, silence, and days that felt less like time and more like a sentence being carried out. He had been given nothing. Nothing, except dreams. Dreams that felt like intrusions. In them, the sky was a wound, the world a trembling fragment, and something beyond the stars leaned close enough to be feared, but never understood. Centuries ago, the heavens tore open. A breach appeared, and from it other realities bled into ours. Gates opened. The Corruptions descended. Alien gods and nameless beings came not merely to kill, but to consume and inherit reality itself. Humanity changed. Thought became force. Imagination became law. And the System was born. Now, among ruin and approaching doom, there is Amon. A boy the world gave nothing. And that may be why he is the one who will decide its end.
