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Summary
“Such devotion,” Satoru murmured. “You don’t even know it, but you’ve already knelt.”
Suguru spun, knife raised, but it pierced nothing. There's only the glade pulsing faintly. Only the breeze that wasn’t breeze, fingers that weren’t fingers ghosting the edge of his thoughts.
“I didn’t do this for you.”
“No,” the voice purred. “You did it because you couldn’t stand the thought of me laughing at you again.”
Suguru turned back to the carcass, fury in his breath, in the way his fingers twitched like they wanted to tear the voice from the sky. But inside—beneath the rage, under the cracked armor of denial—something small and treacherous thrilled.
The God’s voice curled around his spine like heat.
“Come back tomorrow,” it said, fading, wicked. “I’ll show you what your hands are for.”
In the middle of an ancient forest the sole hunter of a small village Suguru meets God.