Liam paused for a moment.

Then looked, really did.

"You built all this on belief alone."

"On faith that our prayers were not empty. That somewhere, somehow, our god would hear and answer." Severina's voice carried something that transcended simple devotion. "For eighty years, we built this Cathedral. Stone by stone. Prayer by prayer. Waiting for the day our faith would be rewarded."

She looked at him directly for the first time, her black eyes reflecting nothing.

"And then you came. And proved we were right to believe."

They continued walking, and Severina's voice took on a more practical tone.

"After your victory at Vor'esh, after word spread that you'd opened Hell and killed a Grand Commander, the Nameless Litany experienced an influx of devoted members. Many came seeking something. Guidance. Purpose. Miracles."

She paused.

"Many are desperate, my lord. They've lost much in the war. Lost loved ones. Lost hope. They come to the Cathedral because conventional solutions have failed, and they believe their god—you—can provide what nothing else can."

"You're warning me they expect miracles."

"I'm warning you that faith this intense demands reciprocation." Severina stopped before massive double doors carved with more symbols. "The faithful have sacrificed everything to believe in you. Their horns. Their former lives. Their connection to House and family. All of it abandoned to serve the Primordial."

She placed her hand on the doors.

"They will expect their god to see them. To acknowledge their devotion. To provide meaning that makes their sacrifices worthwhile."

Her black eyes held his grey ones.

"Can you do that, Originator? Can you be what they need?"

The question hung heavy.

"I Can." he answered.

Severina studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"That's all any god can offer. The attempt at divinity."

She pushed the doors open.

The chamber beyond was vast.

Circular, easily a hundred feet across, with a domed ceiling that seemed to stretch into infinity. No windows—all light came from crystalline formations embedded in the walls, glowing with that same blue luminescence as the healing pool.

And filling the chamber, arranged in concentric circles facing the center, were the faithful.

Six hundred thirty-seven demons in dark robes.

Their horns severed, their eyes downcast, their presence radiating absolute devotion.

The moment Liam entered, every single one of them bowed.

The movement was synchronized. Perfect. A wave of reverence that rippled through the chamber like water responding to a stone's impact.

"The Primordial," they whispered. Six hundred thirty-seven voices speaking as one. "The Originator of Sin. The darkness before dawn."

[Nameless Litany Detected]

[Current Members: 637 demons]

[Average Belief: 100%]

[Collective Faith Classification: Absolute Worship]

[Warning: This level of devotion is rare and powerful]

[Note: They will give everything for you. Expect everything from you in return.]

The numbers scrolled past his vision, quantifying faith that defied quantification. Absolute worship. Not pragmatic loyalty or calculated support. Just pure, complete, overwhelming belief.

Liam walked through them, his footsteps the only sound in the massive chamber.

The demons remained bowed, not daring to look up without permission, their presence creating a pressure that felt physical.

He reached the center of the chamber where a raised platform waited—not a throne, but a simple stone circle that marked the focal point of their faith.

They all surrounded him now. Concentric circles of devotion radiating outward. Their eyes remained downcast, their bodies perfectly still.

Waiting.

Liam stood before them, six hundred thirty-seven who'd pledged their existence to serving him, and felt the weight of their faith pressing down like atmosphere.

He should give a speech.

That's what gods did when confronted with worship. Provided words that justified devotion. Gave meaning to sacrifice. Made faith feel rewarded.

This was a different performance than the battlefield. That demanded strength, violence, the ability to kill and command.

This demanded something harder.

Connection. Empathy. The ability to make people feel seen by something greater than themselves.

Liam opened his mouth, reaching for words that might bridge the gap between what he'd become and what they needed him to be.

But before any sound emerged, movement disrupted the perfect stillness.

A young female demon pushed through the crowd, stumbling slightly, her dark hair falling forward to partially cover the scars where her horns had been severed.

She stopped in front of the circle of faithful, alone and exposed.

Her eyes were completely milk white. Opaque. Lifeless.

She was blind.

"Originator." Her voice trembled but carried. "I have long since lost my sight, and my hope, and my reasons to live on."

She raised her face toward where she sensed Liam standing, those white eyes staring at nothing.

"But not my belief. In something greater. In you."

Tears began streaming down her face, carving paths through what looked like decades of grief.

"My only wish—the only thing I can ask for in this life—is to see you. To gaze into the eyes of my salvation. To know that my faith was not misplaced."

Silence fell absolute.

Six hundred thirty-seven demons held their breath. The young woman stood trembling, vulnerable, having just asked the impossible.

A miracle.

The thing only gods could provide.

And Liam Cross—who'd been a failed actor, who'd become a demon through desperate summoning, who'd transformed into something that barely remembered being human—stood frozen.

Could this actor-turned-god give it?

Could the performance extend to actual miracles?

Could two percent humanity and ninety-eight percent unknown create something that transcended both?

His grey eyes studied the blind demon. Saw the scars on her skull. Saw the tears that continued falling. Saw the absolute faith radiating from her in waves that the System quantified but couldn't capture.

[Nameless - Blind Devotee]

[Belief: 100%]

[Desire: To see her god]

[Note: This is a test. Not of your power—but of your divinity]

The System was right. He could kill Grand Commanders. Could open Hell's gates. Could command demons through Primordial Authority.

But could he give hope?

Could he be worthy of worship that demanded he actually care?

Liam moved.

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