Despair thickened until it became almost tangible, filling the heavens like a suffocating mist.
It merged with the darkness radiating from Andrew's body, turning the sky above into a vast, oppressive shroud.
The air itself grew heavy and dim, black clouds pressing down like the weight of judgment.
Andrew rose slowly into the sky, floating above the ruined world. Behind him stretched an ocean of shadow—
a churning abyss that swallowed all light.
Then came the laughter.
"Ha… haha… hahahaha!"
It echoed endlessly across the heavens, wild and broken, like the cry of a mad god.
"I am the new god of this world!"
At this moment, Andrew had broken past the limits of transcendence.
The embryonic form of his Dark Artifact had been perfected, and even the Dark God Child—
the entity that once granted him power—was now beneath his notice.
Inside the White House, the President slumped to the ground, face pale.
"It's over… this world is finished."
As despair consumed the globe, a new phenomenon began.
The faith of billions—pure, desperate belief—rose into the heavens.
It gathered, condensed, and finally burst forth as a torrent of divine light,
a literal river of faith surging toward the edge of the sky.
Andrew noticed it immediately.
His expression shifted.
"What is that?"
"Hey! Answer me!"
He tried to call to the Dark God Child in his mind—
but there was only silence.
No whisper, no presence.
"Damn it! You choose now to vanish?!"
Cursing, Andrew shot upward, chasing the ascending current of faith.
Some deep instinct screamed at him—he could not allow it to continue.
If it did… something terrible would happen.
Just as he was about to reach it, the world froze.
Sound, motion, even time itself seemed to halt.
Andrew stopped midair, unable to move.
His pupils shrank in shock.
Even after ascending to the transcendent level, even wielding a Dark Artifact—
even a godlike being like himself should not have been frozen so effortlessly.
"What… what is this power…?"
His heartbeat thundered violently.
A primal dread rose within him—deep, instinctive, and absolute.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
It was the same kind of fear he'd felt as a child,
when a tiger in a zoo had locked eyes with him through the bars—
a fear that stripped away speech, will, and reason, leaving only the urge to kneel.
But this—this was a thousand times stronger.
For a being at his level to feel terror this pure…
There was only one possibility.
"A god… is descending."
And then, it happened.
A divine hymn erupted across the heavens—
countless voices of saints and spirits singing as one,
their praise resonating through every molecule of existence.
The darkness vanished.
Every trace of Andrew's shadow energy dissolved as if it had never existed.
All eyes turned skyward.
Vision itself seemed to expand beyond the limits of mortality.
Above the stars—beyond the cosmos—silhouettes began to appear.
They were not creatures, nor mere deities.
They were concepts made flesh—manifestations of law, destiny, and eternity itself.
Even as shadows, they were magnificent.
Each one vaster than worlds, embodiments of divinity itself.
And all of them—every last god among gods—
bowed.
They lowered their heads in reverence, their hymns merging into one voice,
praising something even higher—something infinitely greater.
At the edge of all creation, beyond the limit of stars,
a form emerged.
It was the source of all light, the sovereign of the gods.
Just by existing, He outshone galaxies.
Around Him flowed rivers of starlight,
each particle of radiance forming His divine robes—
each spark a universe unto itself.
Worlds were His background.
The cosmos was His shadow.
He stood above everything.
In that instant, the entire world of Chronicle—
every atom, every soul—fell silent.
Even the planet itself seemed to hold its breath.
Andrew's eyes went wide.
"That… that is a god."
His voice trembled with awe.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
The idea of resistance—of fighting—was absurd.
Before this being, even the thought of defiance evaporated.
Only reverence remained.
"If only… I could offer my faith to such a being…"
That was Andrew's final thought.
Then, the great presence looked down.
A single gaze fell upon the world.
And with it, a beam of holy light descended,
melting away all darkness like snow under the sun.
That one glance transcended time,
seeing every moment of Earth's past and future at once.
He saw Andrew's birth.
He saw his choices.
He saw the countless lives he had taken.
And in the next heartbeat—
Andrew simply ceased to exist.
Not from an attack.
Not from divine judgment.
He was erased because the god's emotion flickered.
A being so vast that even a sigh carried the weight of creation—
and Andrew was less than dust before it.
A look of compassion followed.
A soft sigh echoed through the cosmos,
heard by every living soul on Earth.
Even the deaf heard it clearly.
Even the dead stirred at its sound.
Then—miracles unfolded.
The scorched land healed.
The dead rose again, bathed in light.
Time itself reversed, rewinding everything to the moment before the catastrophe.
And when it was done—
the divine presence withdrew.
The holy silhouettes faded one by one.
The sky returned to silence.
Yet long after all signs vanished,
not a single person on Earth dared to speak.
Because now… they finally understood.
They understood what a god truly was.
They understood what divinity meant.
~~----------------------
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