Amber of its cruelity

Kon leaned back in his carved wooden chair, fingers interlocked, eyes half-closed as if he could hear secrets in the rain outside.

A faint smile tugged at his lips — not warm, not cruel either. Just… patient.

"So," he murmured, voice soft but echoing in the dim chamber, "shall we begin?"

The rain tapped harder on the broken roof above them, as if the world itself were listening.

Hazo and Victor knelt beside him, their heads lowered. "Of course, Master," Hazo said first — the loyal hound's voice dripping with delight. Victor echoed him: "It is always your game, your way."

Kon opened his eyes — two dark pits that could drown the world. "Look at this rain," he said, almost to himself. "A storm always suits me. Let's move on… to the next dimension."

He rose from the chair without hurry. Outside, a pale portal flickered open — tearing the rainy dusk apart. They stepped through.

---

A sudden shift.

The world cracked open into Muzoraiko — a barren dimension where the desert sand bled into patches of rotting green grass. The sky here was dark ash. The wind scraped the dunes like whispers — but no living thing moved.

Kon stood still, letting the wind tug at his black robes. He almost seemed pleased by the emptiness. "No eyes here. No prayers. Perfect."

Victor looked around, his voice low. "Not a soul, Master. As you like it."

Kon's smile widened a fraction. "Good. No witnesses when gods are broken