When a God is born, it is born of a wish. It can be a wish made by a collective, or a wish of impossible desire made by a single being. As such, contrary to what many humans believe, they are subject to the will of men.

Should a God become forgotten, or they do not fulfill the wish they are born from, they shall die.

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A single golden throne, alone in a mist-veiled room of immense size. The floors are white, threaded with gold and blue hues. It glows with heavenly light, a beacon. There is but one being here, dressed in immaculately perfect robes with an equally perfect posture that wavers for but a moment. And then a tear. A single, lonely tear, as clear as a raindrop, makes soundless contact with the finely polished floor at his feet. It is the first and the last.

In the distance; a sound, new and different.

A man, young in appearance with dark hair and skin untouched by time, looks up with ancient eyes filled with hope.

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A decrypt throne of stone, hidden in vast hallways and grand rooms. Strong hands grasp the arms of the stone throne, cracking it. Thin lips curved into a snarl. He stands with a single sweep of a dark cloak, and power rolls through the grand structure. Servants in shackles scurry away.

In the distance; a roar that fades into a single cry.

The malicious curve of his lips turns wicked with satisfaction, dark eyes turning up toward the heavens in defiance. Eager for the coming despair.

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What, you may wonder, would happen should a God make a wish of their own?