For too long I slept, ignoring the screams of the innocent, the wails of the hungry, the sobs of the repressed. I could not, would not wake. I pushed it all away and buried myself deep into the earth.

Once my name had meaning. Once the guilty, selfish men would quail at the very thought of my judgment. Once the spilled blood of my faithful would have brought my swift and terrible retribution.

Times change. The apathy of my followers summoned apathy of my own, and at last I turned away from the mortal world. The guilty, selfish men would never learn. The innocent, hungry, and repressed would never stand against them, would never stop their ceaseless prayers. They lost their faith in me, and so I lost my faith in them.

But after millenia of slumber, the sounds of suffering reached a new climax, and I awoke anew. I will rise from the earth. I will seek out all injustice and I will destroy it. I will not be mocked and I will no longer allow the strong to oppress the weak. Even gods have their breaking point.

View this story's 2 comments.