Becoming the Supreme God

6

The sensation of falling tore away Leo's breath before he could scream. Heat flared across his skin, pressing against his chest like a physical weight as the divine architecture of his City Heaven vanished in a blur of white light. Wind roared in his ears. The descent felt less like a controlled spell and more like a plummet from a commercial airliner into a burning atmosphere.

He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for an impact that would surely shatter his spine.

CRACK!

Leo slammed into the earth. Mud splashed upward, coating his face and clothes. He lay there for a second, his heart hammering against his ribs, waiting for the agony of broken bones.

Nothing hurt. He sat up and wiped the thick grime from his eyes. He had cratered the ground, leaving a web of deep fissures in the packed dirt beneath him.

He stood up and checked his hands. His physical avatar felt entirely solid, mirroring the body he had possessed on Earth, yet it thrummed with a strange, latent energy. He was no longer hovering above the world in a pristine wooden room. He stood in a narrow, foul smelling alleyway flanked by dilapidated wooden shanties. The air tasted of rot and woodsmoke.

This was the lower district of Ashguard.

A scream tore through the ambient noise of the slums.

Leo snapped his head toward the sound. Ten yards away, a man in dented iron armor stood over a young woman curled on the muddy ground. The man wore the crest of the royal guard on his chest plate, though the metal was scored with rust.

"You filthy rat," the guard snarled. He raised his heavy leather boot and drove it into the woman's ribs. "You steal from the Duke's granary and think you can hide in the mud?"

The woman cried out and curled tighter into a ball, clutching a small, dirt covered loaf of bread against her chest. Her clothes were little more than rags, and her frame was gaunt from prolonged starvation.

"Please, Draken," the woman wept. "My brother is sick. We have not eaten in three days. Just let me keep half."

"You keep nothing, Amara," Draken spat. He reached down and ripped the crushed loaf from her desperate grip. He tossed the bread into the deeper mud and ground his boot over it, ruining the food entirely. "The penalty for theft is your right hand."

Draken drew his iron sword. The metal scraped against the scabbard, the sound sharp and metallic in the confined alley. He grabbed Amara by her tangled hair and dragged her forward, forcing her arm out onto the cobblestones.

Leo did not think about strategy. He did not consult a system interface. He moved on instinct, fueled by the familiar, sickening feeling of watching someone leverage their power over a helpless victim.

"Let her go," Leo commanded.

His voice did not boom like thunder, but it carried an unnatural resonance that cut through the noise of the slums.

Draken froze. He turned his head and glared at Leo. He took in Leo's clean, strange clothing and the lack of any visible weapons. The guard released Amara's hair and turned fully toward the interruption.

"Are you lost, boy?" Draken pointed his sword at Leo's chest. "This is the outer ring. The King's law applies here, and I am the law. Walk away before I take your hand too."

Leo stepped forward. He did not raise his hands to defend himself. He remembered the crushing weight of Lord Malakor's presence in the marketplace, the sheer, suffocating authority that had pinned the entire class to the ground. Leo realized he did not need to fight this mortal guard. He just needed to remind him of his place.

Leo focused on the strange energy humming beneath his skin and pushed it outward.

He released a mere fraction of his divine aura.

The air in the alley instantly grew heavy. The puddles of muddy water vibrated and rippled. Draken stopped mid stride, his eyes widening in sudden, primal terror. The guard gasped for air, his chest heaving as if an invisible hand had wrapped around his throat.

The iron sword in Draken's hand began to shake violently.

Leo took another step. The pressure intensified.

SNAP.

The iron blade shattered. Fragments of rusted metal exploded outward, clattering against the wooden walls of the shanties. Draken stared at the empty hilt in his trembling hand. He looked at Leo, then at the ruined sword, his mind failing to process the impossible display of power.

"I will not ask you again," Leo said quietly.

Draken dropped the hilt. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own boots in his desperation to escape. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted down the alley, abandoning his post and his authority without a single backward glance.

The pressure vanished, leaving the alley quiet except for Amara's ragged breathing.

Leo knelt in the mud beside the young woman. She was shivering violently, her eyes darting between him and the spot where the guard had stood. She expected him to finish the execution.

"He is gone," Leo said. He kept his voice soft and non threatening.

"Who are you?" Amara whispered. She tried to push herself backward but her strength was gone.

"I am someone who can help," Leo replied.

He opened his system interface, the blue holographic screen materializing directly in his field of vision. He navigated to the utility tab, locating a basic healing miracle. It cost a negligible five points of Power of Faith.

"Deploy Minor Restoration," Leo muttered.

A warm, golden light gathered in his palm. He reached out and gently touched Amara's bruised shoulder. The light sank into her skin. Her violent shivering stopped immediately. The deep purple bruises on her arms faded into healthy flesh, and the shallow cut on her cheek closed without leaving a scar.

Amara touched her own face, her eyes wide with shock. She looked at the ruined bread in the mud, then up at Leo, recognizing the golden light.

"A miracle," she breathed. She scrambled onto her knees and pressed her forehead against the muddy cobblestones. "You are a god. Please, forgive my theft. I only wanted to save my brother."

"Stand up, Amara," Leo said. He reached down and helped her to her feet, ignoring the dirt that stained his own clothes. "You do not need to steal anymore. Where are the dead fields located?"

Amara pointed a trembling finger toward the north, past the dense cluster of wooden shacks. "Beyond the outer walls, my lord. The soil there is poisoned. Nothing has grown for ten years."

"That changes today," Leo said. He patted his pocket, feeling the solid weight of the Genesis Seed. "Go home to your brother. Tell your neighbors to gather at the northern gate before sunset. There will be enough food for everyone."

Amara nodded frantically, her tears mixing with the grime on her face. She bowed one last time before turning and running down the alley, moving with a vitality she had likely not felt in years.

Leo watched her go, the reality of his position settling firmly on his shoulders. He was standing in a dying city ruled by corrupt men with iron swords. He had no army with him, only the seed in his pocket and a massive bank account waiting in the heavens.

He turned north and began to walk through the slums. The thirty day timer was counting down, and he had a kingdom to build.