The Prophet of Power

Tian Hao had spent years manipulating markets, shaping economies, and bending the world to his will. But power had a way of twisting the mind. He had always believed in his intellect, his ability to outmaneuver anyone who stood in his way. Now, he believed something more.

He believed he was divine.

Standing atop the polished marble steps of his private sanctum, the walls adorned with relics of conquest and prosperity, Tian Hao raised his arms as if to embrace the cosmos. A massive jade dragon coiled behind him, its emerald scales glimmering under the soft golden glow of the chamber. He had commissioned the sculpture himself—a representation of his vision, his rule, his legacy.

"I do not predict the future," he proclaimed, his voice steady, commanding. "I create it."