The city never truly slept. But tonight, the streets felt quieter than usual — like the silence was stretched too thin, waiting to snap. Kai moved through the back alleys of the Lower Ring, where the doctrine's banners barely cast a glow and shadows reigned supreme. The damp stone walls seemed to swallow his footsteps, muffling the scrape of worn leather boots against cracked cobblestones.
He pulled his threadbare cloak tighter around his shoulders, the chill biting through fabric thin from years of use. Another day survived as a street performer and petty thief—nothing heroic, nothing worth remembering. He was a ghost in the city's underbelly, a flicker of movement best ignored.
But his hands twitched with restless energy, a silent storm beneath calm skin. Lately, a strange emptiness gnawed at him—not hunger, but a hollow space where hope had once lived. A hunger for something more than scraps and lies.
Kai stopped near the shattered window of an abandoned theater. Once, he'd dreamed of stages and applause, of lights that didn't blind but illuminated. Now, the theater was just broken wood and shadows — forgotten by a city that erased its own past. He crouched, staring into the darkness beyond the glass shards.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Funny, isn't it?" he muttered. "No gods, no miracles. Just lies they force us to believe."
The silence twisted, a ripple of laughter drifting through the alley—soft, playful, like a whisper caught between breaths. and said :
"If you're going to die talking to yourself, at least make it interesting."
Kai froze, every muscle tightening.
"Perfect. Just what I needed — voices in my head."
The laughter returned, sharper, laced with mischief.
"Voices? No. More like… an invitation."
Kai's eyes darted around the shadows, searching.
"Come out. Don't hide behind tricks."
A pause. Then the voice slid from nowhere, smooth and teasing.
"Why spoil the surprise? Some things are better seen in the dark."
A figure stepped from the shadows, bowing with a theatrical flourish, a crooked grin splitting his face.
"Hello, rat. I've been waiting for someone disappointing."
Kai's heart hammered. "Who the hell are you?"
"The punchline you never saw coming," the figure said with a sly smirk. "Name's Kairo. God of Jesters, Madness, and Lies. And guess what? You just became my favorite audience."
Kai sneered, folding his arms. "Gods are dead. And if you're real… you're a joke."
Kairo chuckled low, circling Kai like a predator savoring the hunt. "Jokes have power, kid. Especially the ones everyone's too scared to laugh at."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "Why me?"
"Because you're the only one left who listens when the world screams silence," Kairo said softly, his eyes gleaming wild. "You're starving for truth in a city drowning in lies and doctrine."
Kai swallowed hard. "I don't want your chaos."
The grin stretched wider, almost sad. "Oh, you'll get chaos. But maybe… a little freedom too."
The air crackled, electric and dangerous, alive with possibility.
Kai straightened, brushing off the chill creeping down his spine. "Don't expect me to thank you."
Kairo winked, voice dark and playful. "Who said I'm here for thanks? The show's just starting — and trust me, it's going to be one hell of a laugh."
Behind Kai, the shadows twisted and shifted, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Somewhere deep inside, a spark flickered — terrifying, thrilling, impossible to ignore