Part II: The God Who Fell
#Before the world cracked, before Nirash became a Vessel, before the skies turned to ash, there was a god.
He had no name—at least not one mortals could speak. Not good. Not evil. He was intent. He was witness. He walked among divinity but never bowed to its order. The others called him flawed. He called himself free.
And in the final days before the war, when divine influences turned to violent games, he saw something in humankind… revenge. Not out of rage, but out of memory. A wish not to destroy, but to reclaim dignity in a cruel world.
And so, he fell.
Not cast down—he chose to fall. To fracture himself and pour a sliver of his essence into a boy already on the brink: Nirash.
No one noticed. Not the gods, too absorbed in their orchestrations. Not Nirash, whose body was a battlefield of emotions. But to the watchers—those beyond the veil—a faint light would flicker. In every scene with Nirash, the world bent slightly. A cup trembled. Shadows took just a second too long to fall. Forgotten songs whispered through the wind.
That was him—the Unknown One, now dormant, nestled deep inside Nirash's soul like a dormant fault line.
He doesn't speak. Not yet.
But when Nirash dreams, he walks through skies that bleed color, meets people he's never known but somehow mourns. His rage never feels like his alone.
And one day, when Nirash reaches beyond power into clarity, when he finally sees the gods not as rulers but as beings with cracks—that's when the whisper might return.