### Chapter 1: The Death of Light
The watchtower crumbled beneath Void's boots, its stones dissolving into the creeping darkness that now blanketed the mortal realm. Below, the last remnants of humanity trudged through the ruins of a city once blessed by Aether, the Bringer of Light. His death at Void's hands had unleashed an unnatural shadow, an oil-slick void that swallowed villages and turned mortals to statues of terror. The air crackled with residual divine energy, a searing reminder of the gods Void had slain.
Void's crimson scythe, the Scythe of the Blood Reaper, pulsed in their grip, its blade dripping with the essence of Aether's soul. Each swing had carved through his divine light, leaving only darkness in its place. The mortals below, refugees fleeing the encroaching void, moved in silence, their faces hollow, their eyes blank. Children clung to tattered toys, their movements mechanical, as if the absence of divine protection had drained their humanity.
Void's gaze lingered on a woman in a torn blue dress, clutching two children to her chest. Her face twisted with fear, sensing their presence despite the shadows cloaking them. A flicker of emotion stirred in Void's core—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper they could not yet name. Before they could dwell on it, a shadow writhed behind her, a monstrous entity born of the darkness they had unleashed.
Instinct took over. Void hurled a dagger, its crimson edge slicing through the air. It struck true, embedding itself in the monster's skull with a wet *thunk*. The creature collapsed, its tentacles dissolving into nothingness. The woman screamed, pulling her children closer, her eyes wide with recognition.
"I know you're there!" she gasped, her voice trembling with desperation. "You killed Aether. You're the one spreading this darkness."
Void remained silent, their form melting into the shadows. They had no words for her, no justification. The mortals were ants in the storm of their rebellion, collateral in a war against the divine. Yet the woman's words lingered, a thorn in their newly awakened emotions. *Shinigami*, they called them. Death itself.
Without a backward glance, Void vanished, their Crimson Dash carrying them across dimensions in an instant. A faint glow in the distance beckoned—a celestial portal, pulsing with divine energy. The next god awaited.