Blasfemy of the Gods

Tanaka’s mind raced. The weight of the shadowed man’s words pressed against his chest like a vice. The gods were fading. The new god was rising. And he… he was caught in the middle.

His fingers traced the glowing symbols burned into his flesh. Each mark pulsed with power—neither divine nor demonic, but something entirely new. Something that should not exist.

The shadowed man remained still, waiting. His eyes—those ember-like orbs—held no patience, only certainty.

“Why me?” Tanaka asked finally, his voice rough. “Why did the gods mark me?”

The man chuckled. “You were never meant to be. A man without fate, without a god’s favor… or a god’s chains. You are the first in many ages to stand at the threshold of something greater.”

Tanaka clenched his jaw. He thought of the n’anga who had tried to silence him. The elders who feared his visions. The gods who watched but did not answer.

No more.

Slowly, he extended his hand.

A deep hum filled the void. The masked man grasped his wrist, and a surge of raw energy flooded Tanaka’s veins. His mind exploded with knowledge—names of lost deities, rituals of power, forgotten tongues whispering in his ears.

His body trembled, his breath ragged. But he did not kneel.

“Then I will not serve,

The shadowed man smiled. “Then let the war of gods begin.”

The void shattered, and the world remade itself.

Author’s Note

Thank you for reading Blasphemy of the Gods! This story is a passion project, and I hope you're enjoying this journey into a world where myths collide and forgotten deities rise again. If you'd like to support my work and help bring more chapters to life, consider donating to my Bitcoin wallet:

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