Kyle could barely keep track of the time.
Sure, he had the singular beam of light coming from the window, but that only gave him a rough idea of the time, and for all he knew, the light could be the result of an artifact to distort his perception.
All he knew was that hours had passed and he spent all of it awake, staring at nothing.
Even when the soft moonlight snuck through the window, he only glanced at it and then went back to looking at his feet.
'It is quite peaceful isn't it? Not knowing when your death is coming but knowing for sure that it is.'
Perhaps it was the tragedy of the situation or a lack of stimulus but Kyle suddenly found everything about his predicament funny.
He chuckled at the occasional shadow that obstructed the light and at his dirtied fingers and at his bruises.
More time passed and eventually, even the moonlight left him to himself.
Now with little light, he looked at his barely visible hands and at the shackles binding them.
'Should I try?' He knew that the shackles would prevent him from using his divine ability.
Rage bubbled in Kyle and he dropped his hands, 'I would never use that ability as long as it requires me to glorify the gods.'
Most would consider him foolish for choosing death over the veneration of his creators, and maybe he was foolish. Still, he wouldn't sacrifice his ideals and self for bare minimum survival in the hellscape the fanatics call a perfect world.
Amidst heavy contemplation, his shackles suddenly clicked open and dropped to his feet.
Kyle stood up and scanned around for anyone in the room with him.
His eyes darted to the window and the sky outside was still a dark blue. It clearly wasn't dawn, not to mention dusk.
'What just happened?'
The ceiling creaked open once again and the floor rose.
Kyle sat back on the floor and placed the shackles over his hands. He tried to lock it but it remained open.
He came upon the same court as before, but this time, it was empty, and the air didn't seem as charged with tension as before.
"Kyle. Follow me." A voice called him from behind and Kyle jumped, snapping his head so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash.
A rather muscular man wearing plain clothes stood with his golden eyes glaring at Kyle like he was staring at a rat.
Kyle looked to the fallen shackles then to him.
"I will not repeat myself. Follow me." He repeated and turned around, walking away.
Walking quickly, Kyle rushed to catch up. 'What is going on? Has my execution been overruled?'
The two walked through the door on the side and came into a large hallway decorated with wooden archways.
As they walked through them, making turns and corners and walking down corridors, Kyle noticed that the sky was, to an extent, riddled with stars. It was still night or at least, early morning.
Soon enough, they came upon a large set of double doors and he pushed them open.
Stone steps led down and into the open road where a giant bear stood in front of the courthouse.
Kyle's eyes widened, "What?"
A firm hand gripped his shoulder, and it creaked, almost popping because of the sheer force applied.
"I am neither your friend, nor your guardian. Do not ask questions and I will try not to accidentally execute you before the time and destination."
The man's words made Kyle's blood run cold.
He was the executioner who was directed to kill Kyle.
'But he doesn't look like an executioner.' His eyes glanced at his otherwise mundane look.
'Then again, it wouldn't be tattooed on his face.'
The warmth of hope that had started to build was drenched in cold fear and reality. There was no good Samaritan in the world created by the gods.
Walking to the bear, he let go of Kyle's shoulder and sat on the back of the bear, "Climb on."
Kyle sighed and climbed on.
As soon as he settled himself behind his executioner, the bear started to walk.
'My legs and arms are free. Also, I'm behind him, so it shouldn't be too hard to attempt an escape.' Kyle's eyes went to the executioner and his breath ceased.
The executioner was staring at him from the corner of his eyes with a dangerous glint and malicious smile. It was like he was daring Kyle to try anything.
Kyle sighed and dropped his head. He hadn't expected this.
***
It was high afternoon by the time they arrived in the desert.
The air shifted and shook with the heat blaring off the sun.
Mirages of water bodies only made Kyle's mouth foam more, and the thirst-induced foam made him hungrier.
The fifth hunger pang in a minute hit Kyle and he grunted, shifting slightly and falling off the bear.
He shut his eyes and groaned as he held his stomach. Not having eaten in more than 24 hours, his body was giving him a painful reminder of the importance of food.
A pair of heavy feet dropped beside him and a shadow was cast over Kyle.
He opened his eyes and saw the executioner standing over him.
The disgust in the latter's eyes was palpable. "I would have given you food but what good is a meal to a corpse?"
'Corpse.' The word now had a weight that Kyle couldn't describe. He would soon be a dead man all because he refused to buy into lies.
His eyes scanned the desert and he squinted. 'This isn't the Plaza of Whispering Bones.'
While he didn't know the location, he knew what it looked like.
It had 12 pillars of bones that seemed to reach for the skies.
Yet all around them was red sand and no bones in sight.
Kyle turned to the executioner just in time to catch a glimpse of a long Jägerstock spear being thrust into his stomach.
The blade slid into him with no resistance whatsoever like a hot knife through butter.
With a grunt, the executioner lifted Kyle and stabbed the other end into the desert sand, impaling him.
Kyle's eyes widened and blood rushed out of his mouth.
He hadn't seen when the weapon was pulled or where it came from.
Whether it was the shock or adrenaline, Kyle didn't know, but he felt no pain whatsoever, only an increasing weakness.
The executioner spat on the sand, "Blasphemer." Then he got on the bear and they left Kyle to himself.
Time ticked by and black dots filled Kyle's eyes. No matter how much he tried to blink them away, they remained.
On the verge of death, a lump of regret filled his throat.
'Who am I to challenge the gods even if absent? They created everything, myself included.'
The trails of blood leaking down the spear slowly developed faint golden streaks running through them like cobwebs.
Unnoticed by Kyle, he went on. 'They are boundless and limitless while I'm merely mortal. What was I thinking?'
The golden streaks took up a brighter glow.
Kyle closed his eyes and tears fell.
'I remember now why I hate them.' He gripped the shaft that passed through his stomach, and he squeezed.
The golden streaks increased in luminosity and increased still.
He gritted his teeth and his eyes flew open, "The gods are cruel and selfish in their ways and I swear that if I survive this, I will kill them." Speaking made him bleed out faster but he didn't care.
"I shall end Origin, erase Inception, consume Void, and bring order to Chaos."
By now, the golden streaks were glowing so brightly they could be mistaken for white. Then it suddenly darkened, turning an inky black.
A wild purple light burned at the back of Kyle's eyes as he gripped the shaft tighter.
Cracks spread through it, "You hear me, gods?!" He screamed into the empty desert.
"I shall be your Ragnarok." Then the shaft shattered and he passed out.