Anomaly: Lord of mysteries

Chapter 5: Ripples in the River of Fate

Across the vastness of existence, a shift had occurred—subtle yet profound. All the entities, whether hidden in the depths of their domains or openly reigning over their followers, felt it. The River of Fate had trembled, its currents disrupted by an unseen force.

The gods, angels, and other eldritch beings turned their gaze toward the source of the disturbance, but what they found was... nothing. A veil, impenetrable and mysterious, shrouded the anomaly. No divination, no cosmic insight, no eldritch authority could pierce it. Something—or someone—had blocked their sight.

In the grand hall of a Church, a man stood at the window, his figure framed by pale moonlight. He wore a white robe, and from his neck hung a crucifix that glimmered faintly in the dim light. His face bore a calmness that was almost unnerving—eyes as pure and untainted as a child's, yet holding an unfathomable depth.

This was Adam, the first Blasphemer and the son of the Ancient Sun God.

For a moment, his gaze remained fixed on the world beyond, his expression unreadable. Then, a faint frown appeared on his face, like a ripple disturbing a still pond.

Adam (muttering): "Time... has shifted. Yet I cannot see its source."

His voice, soft as a whisper, carried an undercurrent of unease. Without another word, his form blurred and disappeared, leaving the room empty and silent.

Far above the physical world, in the boundless Astral World, the tension was palpable. The gods, seated in their distant thrones, cast their attention below the barrier. They too felt the disturbance, but even their vast power yielded no answers.

Within an ancient, shadowed ship drifting silently in the sea, there was a single room. In that room rested a lamp, its flame weak yet eternal, casting an eerie, flickering glow.

From within the lamp, a voice emerged. It was hoarse, ancient, and laden with a weight that seemed to bend reality itself.

Creature (muttering): "Lord of Mysteries..."

The words echoed, and with them, ripples spread across the Astral World. They passed through the cosmos like an ominous omen, carrying a name that once ruled over all: the name of an existence feared, revered, and forgotten.

The disturbance continued, shrouded in secrecy, leaving the entities of this world uneasy. They sensed change—a new player in the game of gods and mortals. Yet the veil remained unbroken, and the mystery grew deeper.

For now, the world waited, tense and uncertain, as the River of Fate churned beneath unseen hands.