The Men Who Killed God (Sinner of the Infinite Book 1)

by J Alex McCarthy

To usurp He from his throne and rule over humanity on their own terms.

  If He wasn’t going to speak with them, then He didn’t deserve their graces.

  …

  Queen still sat in her seat in the hall. It was an hour after the discussions had ended. In a few hours, she would set her plans in motion.

  But first…

  “Omniscient Man?” She meant for it to be a shout but it came out as a whimper. Nobody answered.

  She was too late.

  “Yes?” A voice appeared to come from everywhere at once. A tear opened up above her. Inside of it, she could see the countless stars she’d seen before. He was here, but she couldn’t see him.

  “I agree to your terms,” Queen said, trying to figure out where he was.

  “Sorry, but you’re too late.”

  The hole above her closed and his voice disappeared.

  “Wait! Omniscient Man!” she screamed. She was too late? What did that mean?

  She screamed his name again and again, but he never showed up.

  …

  Clouds thundered and clashed in the heavens. A storm of gray and steel amalgamated in the sky. The whooping and sudden crashing electrons in the sky spit out beams of blue lightning.

  The humans below fled from the sheer might of the storm, herding their livestock into their barns and cowering inside their stone huts.

  A young Svante sat on the side of a mountain, looking down at them. From that distance, the rain wouldn’t touch his naked skin, thanks to the Eye of the World.

  The sun was setting to his right, painting the sky orange, and the storm brewing to the left, steel blue. It provided a strange clarity. Everything seemed clearer to Svante.

  He loved watching thunderstorms, it calmed and excited him at the same time. It made electricity run through his veins. He could calm the storm, if needed. Not that he ever tried.

  He watched as another village prepared for the storm, as it was heading towards them.

  Pulling their cows and sheep into shelter, harvesting the last of their crops and boarding up their windows.

  He wondered how the humans could live the way they did. Without the direct words of He himself. To believe in the words of the gods without heed.

  Svante was barely holding on without his word and yet, they lived their lives never meeting him. That impressed him.

  The last time He spoke to Svante, Svante was feeling down. About who he was, what he was to become. His brother was the god of war, the most powerful god so far. Yet, he was charismatic, he was loved.

  Svante was worried he wouldn’t be able to live up to his name.

  When Svante told He this, He simply told him...

  “To become the light,” Svante muttered.

  That was the last time he had seen him. The last time He gave Svante his guidance. Svante pined to see He again. But with the way things were going, that was never going to happen.

  To become the light. He didn’t know how to do that.

  “And here I thought you left me behind,” a woman’s voice came from behind him. He turned to her. The woman’s naked skin glistened in the setting sun.

  “Why would I leave such a beautiful woman behind, Anja?”

  Anja sat next to him, looking out into the world. She laid her head on his shoulder. She was beautiful. Queen had designated her the god of lust. She could’ve made any man fall for her but she chose Svante. At least, for the meantime. She took the designation in stride. Even if her brother thought otherwise.

  She was as He made her.

  “Why are you staring out into the world so shortly after we made love? Did I blow your world that much?”

  “No, it just wasn’t what I was expecting from… you know, the god of lust.”

  “What!?” Anja almost fell off of the cliff. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Her green eyes pierced into his soul.

  “It was a joke, you were fine.”

  Anja slapped Svante and tried to shove him off of the mountainside.

  “Ow, come on, stop.” He grabbed her arms and brought them around her back, bringing his face an inch from hers. “It was just a joke.” He kissed her.

  She pulled back and smiled. “Ready again, already?”

  Svante sat back down. “Not yet,” he said with a smile.

  Anja sat beside him. “I’m still getting used to this god of lust label. My brother hates it but I know I’m not that dreadful.”

  “It wasn’t your choice to be labeled that. But I guess it could be seen as a compliment that you are the most alluring god there is.”

  “Oh, stop. I haven’t even mastered my power to charm yet.”

  “So? I haven’t mastered my powers yet.”

  “You’re the last god made from the Radiant, Svante. I was born from the union between two gods and you’re older. You don’t have an excuse.”

  “So?”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  “…So?”

  “So! No other god will be born from the Radiant itself anymore, you were created directly by He, you have to become something more than us other gods, you’re the last representation of He.”

  Svante didn’t answer, he looked back out into the sky. The storm was eclipsing the horizon. He had always wondered why He made him when gods could’ve been born by natural birth. Anja noticed his mood.

  “Sorry… This is about He, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Anja put an arm around him. “Well, He’s gone now, He stopped talking to us. We have to accept that. It’s been a hundred years. He abandoned us.”

  “He didn’t abandon us!”

  “He… believes we can live on without him. He believes we can, that means we are able to. So no more wallowing in self-pity. If the humans can live without him, so can we.”

  Svante looked at the stone huts below.

  “…You’re right. I don’t know why Queen named you the god of lust. You seem too smart for that.”

  “It makes me unassuming. I would rather have that, than have people expect something of me.”

  “Must be easy, then.”

  “Stop,” she said, as she planted her lips on his. She stood up, looking at the setting sun. “I better go before my brother gets worried.”

  She looked up the mountain; there was a gateway to heaven up there. She sighed.

  “Wait,” Svante said standing up, “I can get you home faster.”

  “No, my brother wouldn’t like it, plus I don’t want to have any rumors about us.”

  “Rumors that are true?”

  “Yep,” she said as she walked up the mountain, and she was gone.

  Svante looked up the mountain. What a tempting mistress.

  “Brother!” a voice came from his left. Zakhehus walked onto the cliff, holding clothes in his hand. “I brought you clothes.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “I always knew about your excursions with Anja. I’m your brother, not some person with his head in the clouds.”

  Zakhehus, Svante’s brother. Both of them were made from the Wavering Radiant and not from the seed of another god. But He had told them that they were brothers. They looked similar enough and both were strong fighters.

  To Svante, Zakhehus looked like an older, sexier, more charming, charismatic version of himself. The god of war, god of fire, a major god and in the council of Ifor.

  He was everything Svante wanted to be.

  Svante grabbed his clothes from his brother and started to get dressed. “Please, don’t tell Chaos about this?”

  “Chaos? Don’t worry about him. Chaos isn’t even his real name, He named him Elazar. Don’t let him scare you.”

  “I’m not scared of him, I’m just lying with his younger sister and I don’t feel like having to deal with him.”

  Zakhehus tone became serious. “Ignore him and hurry up, we have a bigger problem to deal with. An emergency council meeting has been called.”

  “What? Why?”

>   “Gorou is dead.”

  “What? The god of fortune?”

  “His good fortune ran out it seems. He was one of my best friends and he is dead. I know who killed him.”

  Svante stared at his brother in disbelief. Killed? No god was ever killed. “Wait, killed? Who could’ve done such a thing!?”

  “It will all become clear in the morning, let’s go.”

  …

  Dusk filled the marble-laced window. Svante leaned on the window sill; from here he could see the entire city of the gods.

  It was getting dark around the mountain to his left, the orange fringes of the sun danced around its edges. Above, hundreds of small lights started to peek through the dark blue.

  Small stone huts made up Svante’s view. A large colosseum peeked on the edge. That was where gods could spar each other; they held tournaments so gods could test their might. It was how Svante learned that his strength was something special. Although his brother was always stronger and higher-ranking than him in the matches and won every fight he fought, while, Svante’s win-loss ratio wasn’t perfect. But he was still a force to be reckoned with.

  Svante watched as little children ran down the marble street, various shops closing up for the night.

  Not every god had a unique job. Some ruled small nations of humans on Earth, others ran stores that sold their wares from their travels.

  Svante wondered what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He had passed the age where most gods would have chosen their life’s duties.

  He knew he wasn’t fated to a life of mundanity, he couldn’t be a shop keeper, or allowed to simply walk the Earth… which was his true dream. To become a traveler, to experience the edges of the Earth.

  He was too powerful for that. They wouldn’t allow a god like himself to simply exist without a purpose.

  He had to become somebody. His brother said he would be the next god of war. A meaningless title, as the gods had never experienced a war, but it was still a prestigious title.

  A title he was going to have to fulfill eventually.

  Svante sighed as the streets quietly emptied.

  This was where the majority of gods lived. Most of the minor gods. The ones who didn’t have some great power or influence. Most of the major gods lived on their own mountains, if they didn’t have a large swath of land down on Earth. Isolated from the world. The rest were forced to live on Mount Olympus, the largest mountain in the world.

  Svante lived with his brother, who lived on Mount Olympus. He told Queen he didn’t want to own his own mountain but instead wanted to live with the people.

  Even still, his estate took a large part of the mountain.

  “Svante!”

  Svante jumped as his brother came up to him. “What is it, brother?”

  “Are you calling it a night?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure yet. Ruslan and I might sleep on the edge of Mount Olympus.”

  “I need you to stay in tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t say for sure. But I need you to stay inside tonight. No matter what you hear outside.”

  “What? What’s going to happen tonight? Does it have to do with Gorou?”

  His brother’s demeanor got darker.

  “Just stay inside.”

  His brother turned to leave.

  “Wait! Where are you going?”

  “The emergency council meeting.”

  “Wait!”

  Svante grabbed his brother’s arm. His brother stopped. “I don’t like what you’re saying. Tell me what’s going on. What’s going to happen, brother?”

  “Nothing. Just what needs to happen.”

  He left. Svante stared at the door. He said he knew who killed Gorou. What was he going to do?

  Svante looked back out the window.

  He guessed he wouldn’t be going out.

  …

  In the council hall, Queen stood over a dead body: Afin’s, the leader of Ifor. Afin’s neck had been sliced open, his blood splatter covered the marble floor.

  His accusing eyes stared at Queen as she looked at him. Pitiful it had to come to this.

  A door slam echoed in the halls. Queen smiled. Right on time.

  Zakhehus walked into the hall, he froze as he saw Afin’s body. “You…you!”

  “Nice of you to join us, Zakhehus.”

  “Queen, what have you done?”

  “I haven’t done a thing. I just arrived.”

  “Bullshit, Queen! First, Gorou, and now our leader! I wouldn’t have expected you to stoop so low.”

  “So quick with your accusations, Zakhehus. Blaming me, when you killed the leader.”

  “What!”

  Soldiers ran into the hall and surrounded him, weapons out and at the ready.

  “I see now. You won’t get away with this.”

  “Oh, but I think I will, Zakhehus.”

  Zakhehus laughed. “That’s where you are mistaken.”

  Half of the soldiers turned their weapons on the other soldiers. Holding their blades and spears to their necks. A strange illumination materialized on their blades.

  The silver of their blades was studded with sparkling glitter. Each blade was a different color. From blue, red, pink, to green and yellow.

  Queen stared at the weapons with her mouth agape.

  Zakhehus said, “Your rule is coming to an end.”

  12

  The Eye of the World

  Lightning and thunder clouds clashed together in a near-silent embrace. Svante heard an ominous deep rumbling underneath the chaos.

  He floated in a dark abyss as the black clouds approached him. Blue electric sparks swirled within the clouds as it closed onto him.

  He allowed them to consume him, the electricity of it running through his body. This was his power. His source. The clouds grew brighter as the electricity pooled in front of Svante. It swelled brighter and brighter until—

  There was a screech that pierced through the clouds and the darkness around him.

  …

  Svante jumped awake. He was lying in his bed, the morning sun peering through the window next to him.

  He heard the screech again and then banging on his house door. He ran to his window and looked out. Mount Olympus was in flames, smoke darkened the sky as buildings burned. Svante heard the clashing of metal as more scream rocked out.

  “What’s happening?”

  The beating on his door became louder. He ran and answered it. It was Ruslan, his best friend.

  “Oh, thank He, you’re fine.”

  “Ruslan, what’s happening?”

  “We’re at war.”

  “What? How is that even possible?”

  “It’s between Queen and your brother. It’s a massacre, Svante. We have to get out of here!” Ruslan pulled on his arm but Svante pulled back.

  “Wait, you’re going to need to tell me more, Ruslan.”

  “Well…” Ruslan paused.

  “Ruslan, tell me what’s going on.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Dammit, tell me!”

  “Your brother is trying to kill God.”

  “What?” Svante said in shock.

  “Or, that’s what Queen is telling people. She says that your brother is trying to kill He and she’s trying to stop him.”

  “Bull crap.”

  “You wanted me to tell you.”

  “And you believe the rumors?”

  “Not really, and I’m not the only one who doesn’t believe Queen. Your brother has followers who are fighting for him, while Queen has most of the major gods on her side. Queen’s men are going around killing anybody they believe are with your brother. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t fighters. I just saw a woman and her child get cut down.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “No crap. Now hurry the hell up so we can get the hell out of here. I’m surprised Queen’s men didn’t get to you before I did. I’m sure they’re on t
heir way here.”

  Svante looked back into his house. What should he do? He suddenly ran past Ruslan and out into the street.

  “Svante, wait!” Ruslan followed after him.

  Svante had remembered that Anja’s brother, the god of chaos, was a supporter of his brother. Her place would be targeted.

  As they ran through the streets, chaos was erupting around them. Steel and blood clashed around them. They sprinted past the dying and the dueling. As they were turning a corner, they came to a halt as someone cut down a man guarding his wife.

  Svante stared at them in shock. He had to do something.

  The soldier yelled, “Join Zakhehus in hell!” He raised his blade to strike him down.

  A colorful flash came from his left and stabbed him in his stomach. The soldier fell dead. One of his brother’s men helped the woman up. He held a blade studded with blue colorful glitter.

  “Run!” he yelled at them as more soldiers came down the street. The woman ran the other way, but Svante still had to find Anja.

  He ran for only a few minutes before he forced himself to stop. He held in his stomach to stop himself from barfing. In the street ahead of him, the cracks between the cobblestone blocks were filled with blood.

  The bodies of men, women, and children filled the street.

  There was no way his brother could have brought all this death and destruction, just to kill He. Zakhehus was smarter than that; there was no reason for all this fighting, all this bloodshed. He had to find him before more died.

  “This… this is too much,” Svante mentioned as he turned blue.

  “I told you they were killing everybody. Forget Anja and let’s get out of here.”

  “And what if she told me to do the same thing to you?”

  “I…” Ruslan paused. “You’re right. Let’s just hurry up, alright.”

  They came up to Anja’s house. It was engulfed in flames. There were metal spears jutting from the rooftop as if He himself threw them from the heavens.

  Svante hurled himself through the door but was blown back as the flames intensified. The spears pierced through the rooftop and into the floor in front of him, the flames turned them bright red.

  “Anja!” Svante screamed. “Anja!” He tried to run back in but Ruslan pulled him back.