The streets were dark, silent, and cold. Vihaan snuck out of his house carefully, ensuring not even the floorboards creaked. His mother and sister were asleep, and he didn't want to wake them — especially not when he himself wasn't fully convinced of what he was doing.
With every step he took through the sleeping neighborhood, he ducked, hid, and scanned the surroundings like a guilty thief. His heart was pounding louder than his footsteps. The arrow in his hand — still glowing faintly — pointed toward the end of the street. Toward the ancient church.
After what felt like hours of anxious sneaking, he finally stood in front of the towering church gates. Its broken spire loomed like a jagged claw in the moonlight, and vines twisted along its moss-covered walls.
His legs trembled.
This is insane, he thought. What the hell am I even doing? Chasing voices in my head?
He took a deep breath. Then another. His body screamed to turn back. But something stronger pulled him forward.
Pushing against the enormous wooden doors, he used all his strength until they groaned open, releasing a cloud of dust that made him cough. The interior was darker than the night outside, with only broken windows letting slivers of moonlight in. Cobwebs clung to every corner, and the air was thick with decay.
The arrow in his hand glowed brighter, guiding him toward the center.
There, on a cracked marble altar, lay the relic.
A golden beetle.
Though covered in dust, it shone underneath like polished treasure — strangely warm and alive in his palm. Its wings were folded, carved with intricate ancient patterns. Vihaan stared at it in awe.
Until—
A voice echoed through his head.
"Finally… I can speak."
" His heart skipped.
"This relic holds a fraction of my power. Absorb it — for now, we need its energy more than anything.
" Vihaan blinked. "Absorb it? What do you mean absorb it?!"
"Just do it."
Too confused to argue, he took a breath and focused. The beetle glowed, then crumbled into dust that surged into his chest with a jolt. As the dust entered his chest, it tingled—warm, heavy, almost alive.
As the golden dust vanished into his chest, his vision flickered — and there she was. Suspended in the air above the sarcophagus, the goddess hovered like a phantom flame. Her long black hair flowed weightlessly around her, and her crimson eyes burned with an ancient intensity. For the first time, he could truly see her.
Then — BOOM.
A shockwave burst from the altar, echoing through the church like a divine thunderclap. The sound shattered nearby glass and pulsed through the air like a beacon. In an instant, the golden beetle crumbled into shimmering dust, dissolving between his fingers like it had fulfilled its purpose.
"What the hell was that?!" Vihaan yelled.
"You just told every demon in a 5-mile radius where you are," the goddess said casually.
"WHAT?!"
"Also…" her voice tensed, "I think the gods felt that too. The ones who betrayed me."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME—"
"No time. You need to run. Now."
But before Vihaan could bolt, deep growls rumbled behind him.
Four glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness.
Demonic wolves.
Vihaan's face went pale. "Oh no. Nope. I am NOT fighting demon dogs—"
"Then don't. Hide."
He dove behind a cracked stone pillar, holding his breath, sweat beading on his forehead.
"This is all your fault," he whispered angrily. "You put me in this situation. You deal with it."
"I would… but sadly, I'm not the one who's laughably weak." Her tone was almost mocking.
"What kind of goddess abandons her apostle like this?!"
"What kind of apostle hides from puppies?"
Vihaan fumed, whisper-shouting, "THESE AREN'T PUPPIES!!"
As one of the wolves sniffed closer, Vihaan made a dash for the old side door — only to find it jammed shut.
"You've got to be kidding me—"
The wolves turned, snarled, and lunged.
Vihaan ran, barely dodging their claws, leaping over broken pews and fallen rubble.
Meanwhile, the goddess floated lazily in the sky above the church, arms behind her head.
"I have to admit," she mused, "for a regular human, you're doing pretty well. Maybe you're not entirely useless."
"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!" Vihaan shouted mid-sprint.
"Very."
"THEN DO SOMETHING!"
"Tch, stop whining. I'm searching for a power I can lend you without your fragile body exploding from overload."
She was floating upside down now.
"Shut up and HURRY!"
"You shut up, weakling."
"…I swear to God—wait. That's you."
"Here we go. I found something safe enough. Sand manipulation."
Vihaan ducked behind a bench. "SAND? What am I gonna do, build a sandcastle?!"
"It's a construction-grade ability. Be grateful. I'll guide you."
"You're the worst deity ever."
"You're welcome. Now—open your palm. Focus. Picture a spear. Think sharp. Pointy. Dangerous. You know, unlike you."
He closed his eyes. First attempt? A sand blob.
Second attempt? A wobbly spear.
"Nice. Now point at the wolves and yell 'Fire!'"
"What kind of magic command is that?!—FIRE!"
BOOM!
The sand spear exploded in mid-air like a mini grenade, kicking up dust and stunning the wolves.
"I guess that works too," she shrugged.
"You GUESS?!"
"Run. Up the stairs. Now."
Vihaan bolted, still coughing from the sand burst, and scrambled up the cracked staircase leading to the upper floor.
"Now jump out the window."
"…WHAT?!"
"Do you want to be eaten? Because staying means getting eaten."
He stared down the three-story drop. "I'm going to die."
"Or you can live as dog food. Jump."
With a scream that echoed into the night — Vihaan leapt.
He hit the ground hard, rolling onto the cobblestone with a groan. "I think… I broke everything."
Then he sat up. "Wait… I'm fine?"
"You're welcome," she said.
He didn't stick around to question it. He just ran — as fast as he could.
From the shadows of a nearby rooftop, the old beggar watched it all unfold, eyes gleaming.
"A new dawn… has awakened." the beggar whispered, as the shadows around him stirred.
Written by Ghost_Writer_2020
Copyright © 2025 GhostWriter
All rights reserved. This story is an original work of fiction by the author. Any unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or adaptation without explicit permission is strictly prohibited.