Page 158 of Godslayer
Then a boom, and a desert appears on the screen. Cracked and golden under a sunset sky. Something blows across the sand—a wedding veil? And then, an altar appears, glowing with spark. Three men stand behind it. Three women in front. Like they’re about to get married.
A deep male voice cuts through the music?—
“In a city ruled by gods… where power is sacred, and love is lethal…”
A montage of absurdly beautiful people flashes across the screen.
Then: a single woman standing on a balcony in a silk robe, makeup streaked down her face. The name Sophie Beaumont lights up just below her chin. She’s sobbing when she says, “He didn’t just cheat… he swore on Xi.”
I blink. Sophie Beaumont? Why does that name sound familiar?
“One heart betrayed…”
A heartbeat sounds as the scene shifts. A shirtless man, slick with sweat, slams his hand down on a stone table. His glowing blue eyes stare straight at the screen. The name Dominic Castille flashes underneath him. His voice is low, almost a hiss. “You can’t vow yourself to two gods, Delilah!”
Dominic? Who the hell is Delilah?
Right on cue, her name appears. She’s running barefoot through a misty garden in a flowing white gown. Clearly panicked. She looks over her shoulder and gasps, “I don’t remember who I am—but I know who I love!”
“What the actual?—”
“And one vow…” the narrator booms, “that could destroy them all.”
Back to the desert: a burning wedding veil. A masked man holding a ring. A god statue cracking down the middle.
Then it hits—ONE GOD, MANY VOWS appears in shimmering gold across the screen, the spark flickering across the O.
“One God, Many Vows,” the voiceover says. “This season… betrayal has never burned so bright.”
I sit on the bed, blinking in confusion. “Whatisthis?”
The screen comes to life—beautiful people at a beautiful house. Or maybe it’s a hotel? I’m not sure. They’re having breakfast and a tense conversation about?—
“Holy shit,” I mutter. Because I suddenly remember where I heard all these names before.
The maids. Back in my room. In the lower dimension, helping me dress. Chatting like it was gossip. Casual. Real.
But now, after sitting through the full hour of this show, I know the truth.
They’re not real.
None of them are real.
It’s fake. The whole thing is fake.
It’s like the movie I watched the other day, but… different.
Deeper.
More personal.
I don’t know.
I feel…stupid.
But it’s more than that. It’s not just about feeling stupid for not realizing the maids were probably snickering behind my back as they fed me fake garbage—knowing I couldn’t yet tell the difference between what was true and what wasn’t.
It’s about being played thefool.
