Nameless God.

Nothing survives the Immensus. Not matter, not thought, not even the memory of having existed. And yet — something crawled out of it. Fragmented. Nameless. Carrying guilt for a devastation he can't remember causing. The realm he landed in calls him Nox. Something older than the realm itself watches from a distance, capable of ending him outright — and chooses, for now, not to. The organization that found him claims to know nothing. That isn't true. Somewhere in the city, a cult worships whatever he used to be, desperately enough to kill for it. He's beginning to piece together what he was. It isn't comforting. And somewhere beyond existence itself — what he used to be is still alive, and it hasn't stopped wanting him back. He may not be innocent. But he is a good man.