I had a dream. A sad and tragic dream.
There was a man seated on a blood-soaked throne in a palace which was on the verge of collapse. The whole vicinity was in a devastating state, as if a climactic battle had just taken place. Having lost its dome, the palace was exposed to the dark skies, and as if the heavens were mourning for the melancholic scene, rain began pouring heavily.
"There is no peace in a world where you exist. I cannot let you live any longer."
In front of him stood a deity in the form of a woman, whose eyes resembled the sun, so bright and shining to a blinding point. On her hand was a thundering sword, to which she raised and pointed to the man seated on the throne. Shortly, the woman spat her next words as if they were poison.
"Your decision has left the world in ruins. With your own hands, you destroyed the world that we were supposed to protect."
A rich amount of pure mana began concentrating around them.
"Brother, why did you do it?" The woman queried with a pained expression.
Silence.
The man remained quiet and still on his seat. His eyes seemed dead and unmoved.
Upon receiving no response, she tightened her grip on the hilt. Without a moment of hesitation, she swung her sword and severed the head of the man in an instant. However, in those split seconds before the blade could touch his neck, the man spoke softly.
"Because I was the only one who can do it."
Those were the last words of a fallen god who betrayed the world.
So I had a dream. A sad and tragic dream.
But the thing about dreams, they either end up becoming real or being forgotten.
Sometimes they pass as both – a nightmare that you have to live in order to remember.