The few memories I had about the life before Hell didn't belong to this world. I realised it now with a crystal sharpness that came from thinking about all the similarities and differences between what I remembered of my life back then, and what I saw now that I walked through the mortal realm.

Who was the shining man? What was on the other side of the void he came from, brought me from? And why, of all places, throw me into Hell?

This alone was enough for me to want to kill him, slowly and painfully. Whoever he was.

"I and the Prophet both agreed that this person, my lord, could only be the First God, as he is described in the older, less popular now holy scriptures of the Twelve. I have one of them here, if you are interested," Bishop replied to my question and gestured at his shelves.

This sounded quite familiar. Didn't Pest mentioned something like that before? The god who was before these bastards who didn't deserve to be called gods. "Can you just give me the brief version?" I wasn't in the mood to read another book. This one took me long enough, and not all of it was at all useful or interesting.

In fact, the most of it were long musings about what each word and sentence of the vision could possibly mean.

"Of course! The first holy books ever written describe a being named God of Order, or just Order, or the First God, who separated our world from primordial chaos and created the Twelve to rule it and to protect it from the monsters of chaos who got caught in it. The books, though, don't say exactly what happened with the First God afterwards. Some scholars believe that the First God spent all of himself in the effort of creation and died. Other believe he returned to the sea of chaos and watches over our world from there. The Prophet's vision obviously points at the latter. His descriptions of the void and the monsters that came from it fit with the descriptions of the primordial chaos. For example, the part about them being so unnatural that the mind refused to see, it's clearly because that any creature of pure chaos is a complete opposite of our world of order, and—"

"Enough, enough! If I want to see every word explained, I still have your book. Damn. The god that created the world…" Was it even possible to kill him at all? It didn't sound this way. Fuck!

The feeling of the flame of vengeance being smashed into embers by a realisation that feeding it by the corpse of my enemy was physically impossible left a taste on my tongue. Taste so bitter and sour, no amount of cookies could sweeten it.

But while there was hope, the embers would glow. Who knew… Maybe eating the bastards who call themselves gods would give me the power I would need. And I was going to do it, no matter what prophecies said or didn't say.

"I expected that you, just like the First God said, won't remember what happened there, my lord, so I considered it my mission to preserve this knowledge not just for the people to know, but for you, too. After analysing the First God words, the Prophet and I understood you were given the power you wield to save us from the Twelve's corruption. I only had to open my eyes to see its traces everywhere." Bishop flailed his hands. "And now, it's even more obvious! Famines, plagues, cataclysms, monster attacks. Only blind could miss the signs. Our world is on the brink of collapse."

I looked around, at the pretty little knickknacks, at Yvenna chewing a sandwich in a corner, at the sun that shone through the window. "Is it?"

"I guess one could doubt it after coming from Hell." Bishop's hand fell to his sides. "It's all in comparisons. But there are proofs. When I first noticed the signs, I began to ask farmers and write down what they told me about the years and their harvests. It's all there, too," he came to me and turned the Book of Revelations to one of its last pages. It was all tables with numbers.

I was good with numbers, so it wasn't hard to understand. Years, crops, cattle, and amounts. In a separate column, descriptions of any bad natural events: floods, monster attacks, avalanches and such.

Until ten years earlier, the numbers were pretty even, but then there was a gradual decline in everything produced. The last two years weren't as bad as a few earlier famines, but they were cutting it dangerously close. I thought there was enough food going around yet, but it appeared that just five years earlier there was a half as much, and even more so before that.

"Alright, I see it now, Bishop. What I don't see is how the bastards that call themselves gods are involved." I leaned back in my seat. "I mean, I'm gonna kill them either way, but I don't see how this is going to help you, humans."

"This, the First God didn't say. But he clearly meant that saving the world was your mission, and if you wish to kill the Twelve, then clearly, such is the way to do it. The gods are creatures whose minds are beyond the comprehension of mortals, and the First God even more so. Whatever is his great plan, I believe you will follow, whether or not it was your intention, oh Great Devourer. But it will be my greatest honour and blessing to help you in every way possible."

The idea of me following someone's "great plan", a big part of which was me suffering in Hell, was bad enough that for a moment, just a moment, I wanted to drop my revenge out of pure spite. Then, I decided that if the First God's plan was for me to save the world… Then I can just get my revenge, then destroy it.

Yeah, that sounded like a much greater plan. But my new followers didn't need to know that part.