The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Tracing the Trail
"There's something else you want to ask, right?" Fate asked.
I nodded, wiping away the last of my tears with the back of my hand before meeting her gaze again. "What am I supposed to do?"
She waited expectantly, but her smile felt almost patronizing, compelling me to voice the question she had already gleaned from my thoughts.
"The Church is enslaving people."
Silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, my unspoken plea echoing through the vast space. Finally, Fate shrugged, her expression unreadable. "And?"
"I don't know what to do."
"And what makes you think I have an answer?"
My gaze snapped up to meet hers. "But you're Fate."
She chuckled and folded her arms, striking a near-perfect imitation of Jessia's confident aloofness. "I'm not a goddess anymore, remember? I have no obligation to interfere in the matters of mortal realms. As long as you are alive and can sustain our existence, what else really matters?"