"My King."
The words fell from their lips like prayers.
147 voices. 147 beings created from ███████████'s own essence.
Each one looking at him with eyes that held nothing but absolute devotion.
Not chosen devotion. Not earned loyalty.
But devotion woven into the very fabric of their existence.
They could not help but love him.
It was what they were made for.
At first, ███████████ was uncomfortable with it.
The way they watched him. The way they hung on his every word. The way they would die for him without question or hesitation.
But discomfort fades.
And what replaces it is far more dangerous.
Acceptance.
[PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSESSMENT - Day 14]
Subject ███████████ shows signs of adapting to worship.
Initial guilt regarding Guardian devotion has diminished.
Subject now expects immediate obedience from all 147.
Warning: Power intoxication threshold approaching.
He began to enjoy it.
The feeling of 147 souls bound to his will. The knowledge that with a single word, they would move. With a single command, they would build.
He created forests, and they planted every tree.
He imagined mountains, and they raised stone from nothing.
He dreamed of a palace, and they built him a throne.
Not because he asked.
But because they knew what he wanted.
This is what it means to be a god.
He stopped saying "please."
He stopped saying "thank you."
He stopped seeing them as people.
They were extensions of his will. Tools. Creations that existed to serve.
And the more he treated them this way...
The more they loved him for it.
Because that was what they were programmed to do.
[GUARDIAN #1 PRIVATE JOURNAL - Merideth]
"He looks at us differently now."
"At first, he saw us as equals. Companions. Creations he cared for."
"Now... now he sees us as property."
"And I still love him. I cannot help it."
"That is the curse of being created to worship."
The power was intoxicating.
Not the magic—though that was vast. Not the ability to create life—though that was profound.
But the feeling of being needed. Wanted. Worshipped without condition or doubt.
147 pairs of eyes watching his every move.
147 voices singing his praises.
147 souls bound to him by the very fabric of their existence.
This is what it means to be loved without choice.
This is what it means to be worshipped without question.
This is what it means to become a tyrant.
[RENALDO'S OBSERVATION - Day 21]
"The test is proceeding as expected."
"Give someone absolute power, and watch what they become."
"Give someone absolute worship, and watch them forget what they were."
Huh. Interesting.
By the time ███████████ reached for the grimoire...
By the time he decided he needed more power...
By the time he opened the forbidden book...
He had already fallen.
The worship had already consumed him.
The intoxication of being loved without earning it.
The addiction of being obeyed without deserving it.
When you are worshipped...
You begin to believe you are worthy of worship.
And that is when you become dangerous.