Don’t wake in the world where the trees all died, stay sleeping in the world which you thrived.

A saying from the gods told to mortals who tried to become a god themselves. The gods were said to have hated mortals, therefore shunning them when they had ascended to godhood.

I wasn’t sure if the saying was truly stated by ‘Gods,’ but I was sure that gods hated humans.

If they didn’t, why did I suffer so? Why did I continue to suffer on that planet as a human of their creation, when all I wished was to be free of that life?

Gods were foolish to me. Back then, I didn’t understand the pain they also suffered at the hands of their own maker.

But soon, I grew older on that wretched world. I began to see a glimpse of something in the gods that I didn’t when I was younger. I saw.. emotions, feelings similar to my own.

And the saying supposedly stated by the gods to turn humans away from godhood may have simply been them trying to deter humans from that path; another path of suffering.

Perhaps the gods were human, as was I once. Perhaps they had also been born to the streets of Vivian cities. Maybe they too had been a trickster born for mischief.

But I’m certain I’m the one and only God of Mischief. If there ever was one before me, their existence hasn’t been made known for hundreds of years.

By now I can understand the saying written by the gods of old. It wasn’t because of their hatred for humans, it was because of their love for humans.

As I found myself walking the same path as the ones who paved it, I realized how the universe spun, how humans were birthed, and how the first god, Khen, ruled over the galaxies for a short time.

And by ‘a short time’ I mean a few thousand years. My life has become long enough for me to call a few thousand years a short time.. I wonder what my mother would think if she knew I was suspended through time, forever lost in the power of the multiverse?

I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made up to this point, but I do regret not understanding the powerlessness of gods. And how very badly I wanted to be one..

Looking down from the sky, fog and debris surrounding me, I see the humans so small and tiny, as if little ants in their ant holes. But even the ants I can see if I stare hard enough. The power of a god is something I would have never imagined back then as a human.

I wonder, how did I become god again? How did I end up joining the gods, becoming a creator, even ruling my own planet? Worshipped as if I was the original creator, the humans pray to me. They pray for things I once thought were the most crucial part of being alive, but now I find them pointless. So utterly meaningless that I can’t help but play tricks on the humans who pray to me.

They should know by now I can only grant wishes in the form of tricks. The true prayers for lifelong happiness would go to other gods.

Even if my other title I’m known for is ‘God of Happiness,’ I can only grant it momentarily, just as other gods can. My power stems from humans faith, so I must play my tricks and make them happy if I want to stay awake in this path called godhood.

The hopeless humans will continue to be birthed, survive and then die. I will continue to grant their prays with the other gods and they will continue to worship us.

I can’t help but think the gods of old should’ve explained better. Their saying was useless to those like myself who wanted more power, who wanted more freedom and happiness.

The world the trees have died is a place where no mortal should tread while awake. I wish I too had stayed asleep in the mortal realm, ignorant of the powers of the universe.