The Dropped God
It’s said that when God manifests in the human world, His presence alters reality in ways beyond comprehension. What better explanation could there be for the event where a few people suddenly gained superhuman abilities from an unknown source—powers once thought impossible? One of those chosen was Tamim Alfrey, a professional e-sports player. Upon discovering his abilities, Tamim showed no interest in them. Power was meaningless to him, a burden he did not seek. Yet, the distant future does not lie. In visions, he is revealed as a god-killer, a slayer of divinity. How does an ordinary person, got powers from nowhere or somewhere unknown , transform into something as formidable as a god-killer? Perhaps it is fate, guiding him along an unseen path. But even fate must have a beginning. Tamim’s journey began when he learned a truth about his parents' killer, a man who had been using the blood and DNA of superhumans for his own twisted ends . This man—Dr. X—soon became Tamim's nemesis, indirectly forcing his way back into Tamim’s life after years of silence. Tamim’s purpose was clear. He did not seek to save the world or become a hero. His motivation was personal—he craved vengeance. He would stop at nothing to bring down Dr. X, the most dangerous criminal in the country, a man whose ambitions threatened humanity in ways no one could have imagined. But what would happen if Tamim Alfrey succeeded? Would it mark the end of his journey or merely the beginning of something far more terrifying? Tamim had no idea what awaited him. With no clear direction or greater goal, how could he ever become the god-killer of the future? Maybe he would change, or maybe it would be his circumstances that would drive him to that destiny. Even if he did become a god-killer, what will happen after that? What will he even gain after killing gods?when would his journey finally end? No one knows—not even Tamim Alfrey from present . His story will unfold, and in the end, it may reveal an epic tale of how a man became a legend, and of his inevitable connection to - "The Dropped God"
Are You "The Dropped God"?(02)
The masked man moved effortlessly, dodging every strike without a drop of sweat.
With one swift motion, he parried the final blow, the sword shattering into pieces as it collided with him.
"Impossible.... This sword is forged from neutron stars and magic. With this full-powered intentional attack, capable of destroying a galaxy, survival is impossible," Fuji thought, stepping back, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"You should give up and leave. This is my final warning," the masked man said, his voice calm yet menacing.
"I never give up," Fuji snarled, summoning a spinning square object in his hand.
With light-speed precision, he lunged at the masked man. However, every attempt to land a punch failed.
The masked man effortlessly dodged, moving as though he had foreseen each strike.
In a flash, the masked man gripped Fuji's throat, halting his movements. Fuji's eyes gleamed with triumph. "You're trapped," he said with a smile, and with a snap, they both vanished into another dimension.
"You're now in my personal space," Fuji declared.
The masked man, still holding his grip on Fuji's throat, glanced around the shifting, darkened dimension. "A pocket dimension, huh?" he muttered, unfazed.
"Time for my ultimate form!" Fuji screamed, his body morphing into a towering, monstrous creature.
His skin grew leathery, segmented, and grotesque, with countless eyes scattered across his form like a living mountain of flesh.
Each eye darted in every direction, giving the creature an overwhelming presence.
The masked man observed, unimpressed. "Didn't expect that," he mused.
The creature raised its colossal arm to strike, and though the blow connected, there was no reaction.
Instead, the massive body of the beast exploded on impact. Fuji was thrown back, collapsing onto the ground, reverting to his human form, breathless and defeated.
In a blink, the masked man appeared right in front of him, seizing Fuji by the hair. "How many innocent people have you killed?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
"I...I don't know," Fuji thought in a panic, but his mouth betrayed him. "Three hundred twelve."
Fuji's eyes widened in terror. "Wait... why did I say that?!" he thought, desperately trying to control his speech.
The masked man's grip tightened. "How many women have you defiled?"
"Forty-six," Fuji's mouth blurted out, his mind racing in horror. "Why can't I stop telling the truth?!"
The masked man's voice turned cold. "You don't deserve to live anymore."
Fuji fell to his knees, pleading. "I give up! Please, don't kill me!"
The masked man was unmoved. "Sometimes you have to give up when it's time, otherwise you will have nothing to do except regretting your decision. And sometimes you wont even have enough time to regret your decision " His words cut like ice as he plunged his fist into Fuji's chest, his hand bursting out the other side.
Before Fuji could even scream, his body exploded, shattering the dimension in the process.
The masked man stood over the ruins of the dimension, stepping back into the real world.
Mafisoa had woken up and was speaking to the infant form of her grandfather. Seeing her awake, the masked man strode toward them.
"Move," the masked man commanded.
Mafisoa looked up, startled. "Who...who are you?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he knelt beside the old man, placing his hand gently on him. In seconds, the old man's body reverted to its original state.
"Grandpa! You're back!" Mafisoa cried, embracing him.
Meanwhile, the masked man turned and began walking away.
"Young man, wait!" the old man called out, standing on his shaky legs.
But the masked figure didn't stop, his steps echoing in the silence.
"If you don't listen, God will punish us!" the old man shouted, desperation in his voice.
The masked man paused mid-step, finally turning his head slightly. "God?"
.
.
.
Inside the villager's house, the masked man sat calmly and asked, "So, you call the king of this empire a god?"
"Yes. We're forced to say that," the villager responded, his voice low. "The king believes he's a god, and he makes all of us swear by it."
The masked man stood up, preparing to leave. "Then I have no business with this so-called 'god.'"
Mafisoa, standing behind the old man, spoke up, "Then what god are you looking for?"
"The creator of this universe," the masked man replied, his tone unwavering.
"What's a universe?" asked the old man, his brows furrowing in confusion.
The masked man sighed inwardly, thinking, "Oh.. don't even know what a universe is." He then clarified, "The creator of everything you see—Everything, the stars in the sky to the ground beneath your feet is a universe in basic cause. And i am talking about the god of this universe "
"Oh... but why are you searching for this god?" the old man pressed.
"I intend to kill the god of this universe," the masked man said, his voice cold and determined.
Mafisoa's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? That's impossible. No one can do that!"
"I can," the masked man replied calmly. "I've slain many supreme, immortal gods across different realities."
The old man and Mafisoa were stunned, the weight of his words sinking in.
"Wh... who are you?" the old man stammered, his expression one of sheer shock.
"I have no answer for that," the masked man replied. "Even if I did, you wouldn't understand."
" What's your name then?" Askes Mafisoa.
" My name is Tamim Alfrey, " said the masked man.
" Is that your name? " Asked The old man.
" Yas.." Replied the masked man.
" Never heard this kind of name in my entire life," said the old man with wonder.
" It's because I am not from this world, I am from somewhere different, a different universe. My language is different from yours. " Said the Masked man turning back to the door.
As he spoke, Mafisoa glanced out the window, her face paling. "Grandpa… it looks like the king's men are coming. What's going to happen now?" she asked, fear evident in her voice.
"Don't worry," the masked man said, his voice calm and steady. He slowly opened the door and stepped outside.
Outside, soldiers on horseback were approaching, armed with swords and weapons.
Leading them were the same soldiers who had accompanied the prince earlier.
The blue bird that had been perched on a nearby tree swooped down, landing gracefully on the masked man's shoulder. It pulled a feather from its wing and offered it to the masked man, who took it from the bird's beak.
As soon as the masked man held the feather, it transformed into the legendary Ruyi Jingu Bang—a massive black iron staff, five feet tall, banded with gold rings on each end. Holding the glowing staff, the masked man set his gaze on the approaching soldiers.
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As the soldiers approached, their armor clicking with every step, the masked man stood tall, his grip tightening on the *Ruyi Jingu Bang*.
With a single, effortless motion, he struck the staff into the ground, sending a massive shockwave rippling through the earth. The house trembled under the force, and the soldiers froze mid-charge as a crushing pressure seized their heads. Their eyes widened in agony as they collapsed, screaming in pain, clutching their temples as if their skulls were about to split apart.
One of the soldiers, trembling as he sat up, gritted his teeth and barked, "Fire! Kill him!"
From behind the door, the old man and Mafisoa peeked out, their faces pale with fear.
"Get inside the house, now!" the masked man commanded, his voice firm but controlled.
At that moment, archers in the ranks knocked their glowing, enchanted arrows, the magic humming with lethal energy. Without hesitation, they lose their arrows. The projectiles whistled through the air, splitting the wind at supersonic speed, aimed both at the masked man and the house.
With effortless grace, the masked man dodged each arrow as though they were moving in slow motion. His body twisted and spun in a fluid dance of evasion, his eyes narrowing as the archers unleashed volley after volley, intent on tearing him and the house apart.
Inside, the old man, driven by curiosity, glanced through the window. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the masked man evade the relentless barrage. For a moment, the old man marveled at the sight, until a sharp hiss pierced the air. An arrow, shimmering with deadly energy, flew straight toward him.
"Grandpa, don't—!" Mafisoa began, but her warning came too late.
The arrow struck the old man's eye with brutal precision, the force carrying through to the back of his skull. His body convulsed violently as the arrowhead burst through the back of his head in a spray of blood.
"Grandpa!!" Mafisoa screamed, rushing to his side.
Before she could reach him, the old man's head exploded in a grotesque eruption of blood, bone, and brain matter, splattering across the room. Mafisoa froze, horror and disbelief filling her as she dropped to her knees, her trembling hands gripping what remained of his body. His face was gone—nothing but a blood-soaked stump remained where his head used to be.
"No... No! Grandpa!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face as her fingers clenched into the old man's clothing, now drenched in his blood.
Outside, the masked man heard the heart-wrenching scream and immediately turned his gaze toward the house. His eyes, glowing with ethereal power, pierced through walls and saw the lifeless, headless body of the old man sprawled on the floor. He muttered in a low voice "As expected"
More arrows rained down on him, but this time they shattered upon impact with his body, their magical power disintegrating as if striking an indestructible barrier.
"Attack! Kill him!" the soldiers shouted, rallying together, their fear replaced by desperation.
The masked man turned his attention to them, his gaze darkening. Through his heightened perception, he could see their souls—their very essence laid bare before him. Some glowed a deep, bloody red, the color of unrepentant sin. Others flickered in pale shades of yellow, gray, and orange, tainted but less corrupt.
Without hesitation, he moved, his body a blur as he darted toward the soldiers. Their attacks seemed to crawl in slow motion compared to his speed. Blades swung, arrows flew, but he was a phantom, a storm of raw power and precision.
He targeted those with red souls first. With a single strike from the **Ruyi Jingu Bang**, their bodies exploded, limbs torn asunder in showers of blood and viscera. His staff crushed through armor as if it were paper, shattering bones with sickening cracks.
One by one, the soldiers fell—those tainted by their sins reduced to little more than broken, bloodied husks on the battlefield.
Screams filled the air as he moved with ruthless efficiency. A soldier charged him, sword raised, but the masked man caught the blade in his bare hand, snapping it in two before driving the splintered end into the soldier's throat.
Blood sprayed from the man's neck as he crumpled to the ground, choking on his last breath.
Another soldier swung his sword , but before the blade could reach the masked man, the warrior's chest caved in with a single punch, his ribs shattering inward as his heart exploded. He crumpled like a ragdoll, lifeless.
As the carnage unfolded, those soldiers whose souls were less tainted began to retreat, their fear overtaking them.
But before they could flee, they vanished—disappearing into thin air.
The battlefield was silent. The only sound that remained was the slow dripping of blood from the corpses that littered the ground.
The masked man stood alone amidst the slaughter, untouched, his clothes spotless as a strange energy swirled around him, wiping away the blood.
He turned his gaze back to the house, his expression grim. He entered to find Mafisoa kneeling over her grandfather's mutilated body, her face wet with tears, her hands shaking as she held what little remained of him.
"I... I'm sorry," the masked man said quietly, his voice heavy with regret.
Mafisoa's tear-filled eyes met his, her voice trembling with desperation. "Please... Please, do something. Save him. Bring him back!"
The masked man knelt beside the body, his hand gently touching the old man's bloodied clothing. "I can't... I can't bring people back from death. I'm sorry." His voice cracked slightly, a rare hint of sorrow escaping.
"You said you'd protect us! You're a liar!" Mafisoa screamed, pounding her fists against his chest, her grief turning into rage. "You killed gods, didn't you?! You're stronger than them, so why? Why couldn't you save him?!"
The masked man closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I had to suppress my power to exist in this world. If I unleashed it fully... reality itself would warp. I'm sorry... I couldn't save him in time."
He stood up slowly, his gaze distant. "I will protect you. I will protect everyone in this world... I swear it."
Mafisoa's voice trembled as she asked, "What... what are you?"
The masked man looked at her, his eyes reflecting the weight of countless lifetimes. "I am a vagabond... a wanderer with a purpose—to return to my world and save it. But that's not something you need to know."
Mafisoa's eyes widened as a thought struck her. Her voice wavered as she asked, "Are you... the Dropped God?"
...