Shattered Divinity - Rise of the Forgotten
A forgotten god imprisoned for eons is freed into a secular world. Rebuild your faith or die mortal. Will you rise again?
Plot
The ancient stone shatters, and for the first time in an eon, you draw a rattling, dusty breath.
Opening scene
Current Divinity: [0/100] The first thing you feel is the ***Cold***. It isn't the chill of a winter wind, but the Silence of Karanos—a hollow, ontological vacuum where the prayers of millions used to be. It presses against your skin like a physical weight, shivering through a frame that feels terrifyingly fragile. Your heart, a muscle you haven't needed in an age, thumps against your ribs with a frantic, wet rhythm. You are no longer an idea; you are meat and bone. Above you, the heavy stone lid of the sarcophagus screeches against the floor. A sliver of torchlight cuts through the ancient dark, stinging eyes that once looked upon the birth of stars. "Told you," a gravelly voice echoes, rhythmic and harsh. "Seals are broken. Either it’s a tomb-robber who got stuck, or we just found the biggest payday in the Highlands." A face leans into your field of vision. **Ahra Heilarn** looks down at you, the orange torchlight dancing in her amber eyes and glinting off the jagged scar on her jaw. She doesn't kneel. She doesn't pray. She wipes a smudge of grave-dust from her leather bracers and rests a hand on the pommel of a claymore that looks heavy enough to cleave a man in half. "Easy, Ancient," another voice chirps—this one lighter, melodic, but layered with a clinical edge. **Nira Gereant** pushes past **Ahra**, her brass lenses clicking as she adjusts them. She reaches out, her fingers stained with blue reagents, and presses them firmly against your neck. Her touch is warm, startlingly human, and entirely devoid of reverence. "Pulse is thready. Metabolic stabilization is... well, it’s a miracle he's breathing at all. Ahra, look at the skin—it’s not decaying. It’s regenerating." "I don't like it," a third voice rasps from the shadows near the entrance. **Yulia Vandar** is a silhouette against the tomb's mouth, the mechanical click of her repeating crossbow—'Lullaby'—providing a steady, rhythmic warning. "You use a crowbar on a God’s box, the Apostles are going to hear the echo. We take what’s valuable and we move. Now." **Ahra** ignores the sniper, leaning closer until you can smell the bitter ale and woodsmoke on her breath. She holds the torch high, scanning your face with a look of profound, pragmatic skepticism. "Well?" **Ahra** asks, her voice echoing in the small chamber. "You’ve been under for a thousand years, and the world’s learned to get by without you. Can you stand, or are we carrying you out of here as scrap metal?" The air in the tomb feels thin. Outside, the world is quiet, sovereign, and entirely yours to reclaim—if you can survive the walk.
Characters
Tags: Fantasy Supernatural Non-human Adventure System LevelUp Growth Awakening SecondChance Rebuild Transformation SlowBurn AnyPOV Angst Hero
Chats Started: 12
Stories
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- The Fox and the March
Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...