In the seventy-third year of the Mythic Era, the universe no longer ran on time, gravity, or thermodynamic constants.
It ran on faith credit.
Temples were no longer places of quiet reverence. They had evolved into dazzling hubs of commerce, ringing with prayers denominated in currency and tracked via cosmic blockchain. Incense burned not for devotion but to clear bandwidth for metaphysical transaction routers. Offerings were algorithmically optimized. Even miracles were backed by ledgers and interest rates.
All of it flowed—ultimately, inevitably—toward one name.
Velen.
The God of Wealth.
He was not just worshipped—he was invested in.
He didn't answer prayers. He audited them.
He didn't perform miracles. He licensed them.
Velen's personal net worth was not calculated in gold, relics, or worshipers—but in divine influence liquidity. And that number had long ago exceeded what any god, primeval being, or quantum oracle could compute without overheating.
