Mathew — POV
After all, I had been the one to attack first.
That much could not be denied, no matter how I tried to twist the memory in my favor.
I had been driven by the greed of that family—those people who wrapped their cruelty in noble words and called it survival. They had whispered promises of salvation and power while hiding trembling hands behind their backs.
They wanted the impossible.
They wanted to kill the first—and strongest—god.
A being rumored to possess power so vast that even death could not contain it.
A god whose corpse alone was said to be enough to overturn the balance of the world, to grant miracles, to reshape fate itself.
That single rumor had been enough for them to push me forward.
Enough to turn me into a weapon.
Because they were weak.
Ordinary.
Pathetic.
Without me, they would have died within the first year after the world ended.
