_Eshwar_

A tragedy...
An abrupt departure...
Death...
And rebirth.

Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword.
A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond.

It unveiled something,
Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented....
A being who seems to weave the threads of fate.

Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will?
If he does exist, what purpose does he serve?
Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him?
If it is another's will, can he defy it?
Can he turn his sword against his creator,
A being who literally writes his reality?

Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows,
Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

The Blind Swordsman.

GOD muttered and waved his hand at the nearing horde, and coldly yet indifferently spanned strings that were stretched stiff with few puffs of eerily pure yet blackened energy that belonged to worlds unknown, immediately manifested out of nowhere, connected with his pure black dyed slender yet long fingers.

At that abrupt flinch of his fingers,

The bodies of the vanguard monsters were shredded to pieces while a flowing river of rotten blood immediately paved the path of the second layer of the horde to stomp on.

With splattering noises of the monsters rushing towards them, both GOD and Starla readied themselves for long range spells for slaughter, noticing that indifference of the monsters even when a few hundreds of their own died with a wave of an arm.

Intending to not let them get closer than comfort, which the current distance in between them and the monsters was.

Gods' walk