The Nihilos: Trash Player Who Rewrote Reality

The world had slowed down. To everyone else, the boy stood silently in the center of the broken vault, his glowing eyes staring into nothing. But inside him—time had fractured.

He wasn't just a boy anymore.

He was a vessel.

A thousand voices once screamed inside his head, gods clawing for dominion. But now, silence. The war was over.

And one remained.

> "Who... am I?"

He stood within a formless realm. No sky, no ground—just endless threads of myth and memory.

Flashes surged.

Golden spears. Flaming chariots. Screams of titans. Burning skies. A forge so hot it melted even divine bones.

A voice deeper than time answered him—not from above, but from within.

> "You were forgotten... but never erased."

Symbols formed in the air—molten iron, sparks, a hammer striking endlessly.

The boy gasped as his chest burned with one name.

> "I am... Hephaestus."

The forgotten god of the forge, the twisted craftsman, the architect of divine weapons.

Once cast aside. Now reborn.

His voice cracked across the skies of Earth, though only players and certain fragments of the system could hear:

> "This vessel… is mine."

Kyra's heart skipped a beat.

> "Hephaestus? Why would he come back?"

Another dev tech stammered, "He was blacklisted from the Divine Code Index. His name doesn't even exist in our myth packages!"

The monitors scrambled, all system logs replaced by three glowing letters:

> HΦS

Kyra stepped away from the terminal.

> "We have a problem. A god who specializes in building... just hijacked our strongest vessel."

Raven stared at the cracked skyline. He hadn't slept. Ava had. But even in her dreams, she mumbled nonsense—sigils and sparks.

He felt it.

> "Something's… heating up again."

And as if answering his thought, a tiny message blinked on the side of his vision.

> [NIHILOS System Update: Stage III Integration Detected – Vessel-Class Collision Imminent]

He muttered, "…Hephaestus?"

The name alone made the room slightly warmer.

From somewhere distant, almost like a forge bellows being lit, a whisper reached him:

> "Your system is flawed. I will rebuild it."

The boy's skin radiated heat, his pupils glowing like twin embers. Yet he stood still, breath shallow, body shaking — not in fear, but as if holding back a volcano that had just remembered it was once a god.

> "I forged for kings… for monsters… for gods," the voice said again from within.

"And now, I forge for war."

With each step, the ground beneath him melted faintly — not into lava, but into glowing lines of code, rewriting as he walked.

In the broken vault chamber, glass screens flickered and cracked. The EvoCore logo glitched.

And then — the boy raised his hand.

A flame appeared.

But this was no ordinary fire.

It was black.

Blue at its edges. Void at its core.

A creation-flame.

> [System Warning: An unauthorized Reality-Binding Flame has been summoned.]

> [AI Restriction Failsafe: Offline]

> [Project "Divine Countermeasure Protocol" – LOCKED]

Inside the boy, the god began working.

Hundreds of floating blueprints hovered in the dark.

Swords. Gauntlets. Weapons that had never existed in any mythology. He began molding one.

But then — a ripple passed through the forge. A voice from the outside.

It wasn't Raven.

It wasn't Ava.

It wasn't EvoCore.

It was another god.

> "You shouldn't have returned, crippled smith," the voice said, harsh and hollow.

"This realm is no longer yours to rebuild."

Hephaestus didn't turn.

He simply whispered, "Then come and stop me."

A second forge lit behind him — different color. Different pattern. Another god... was watching.

Raven jolted upright. His eye burned.

> [NIHILOS WARNING: Dimensional Sync Spike – 72.1% → 75.6%]

Ava rushed in, "Did you feel that?! The sky turned red for a second!"

He looked out.

There, in the distance — over the city's edge — a pillar of black-blue flame was rising. And at its center...

> "It's that boy…" Raven whispered. "He's building something."

> "Or someone's building through him," Ava added quietly.

> "We need to find him — before the others do."

Kyra watched the video stream in silence.

The boy. The forge. The weapon.

The sigil burned onto the boy's hand matched no divine code in EvoCore's registry. Not from the system. Not from Earth.

Her assistant whispered, "Should we inform the Ascension Division?"

Kyra shook her head. "Not yet."

Her eyes narrowed.

> "Let's see what the crippled god can still build."