Emerging from the police station, Glen, his head bowed in deep thought as he planned his tasks for the upcoming days, made his way towards his deer - drawn carriage.

  A lad of approximately thirteen or fourteen years, clad in brown overalls and carrying a basket of fruits, passed by and, quite coincidentally, stumbled right before Glen.

  The fruits cascaded to the ground, scattering in all directions.

  Glen snapped out of his reverie. So engrossed had he been that he'd failed to react in time to prevent the boy from falling. He thus resolved to step forward and assist the youth.

  Upon helping the young boy to his feet, the latter effusively expressed his gratitude to Glen and promptly set about gathering the strewn fruits.

  Observing a child of such tender years engaged in earning a livelihood, Glen's heart was filled with compassion. He joined the boy in his task, intending to purchase some of the fruits later.

  However, as they were collecting, Glen suddenly sensed an eerie alteration in the surroundings.

  He ceased his actions, slowly raised his head, and surveyed his vicinity. To his astonishment, the police station and the streets had vanished, leaving behind only a desolate, color - drained expanse.

  The thirteen - or fourteen - year - old boy, wearing an innocent smile, stood before Glen, gazing intently at him.

  Glen, who was crouched at that moment, looked up to meet the boy's gaze.

  "Do you... yearn for redemption?" The boy's voice was an otherworldly whisper, reminiscent of the ethereal chorus of countless phantasmal voices.

  Glen remained silent, merely rising to his feet, shifting from a position of looking up to one of looking down upon the boy.

  The boy, still wearing that guileless expression, repeated the query, "Do you... yearn for redemption?"

  It was as if a powerful psychological compulsion had taken hold of Glen, and he felt an intense urge to acquiesce.

  Slap!

  A sharp, resounding smack shattered the solemn and sacrosanct atmosphere that had prevailed.

  The boy's head jerked to one side, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

  I've actually been slapped! How could this be!?

  The boy was loath to believe it, yet the searing pain on his cheek was undeniable proof.

  Slowly, he turned his head, the innocent smile vanishing completely. "You..."

  Slap!

  Before he could utter another word, a second slap landed, this time on the opposite cheek.

  The boy clutched his reddened cheeks, his eyes blazing with anger as he stared back at Glen.

  "There, now it's symmetrical. What do you think?" Glen remarked with a mischievous grin.

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  "Do you have any idea who you're confronting? I am one of the manifestations of the divine will! Your actions are an unforgivable act of blasphemy! You shall be consumed by flames!"

  The boy's voice seemed to penetrate Glen's eardrums, reverberating in his skull and causing his temples to throb.

  Divine will? Which deity could this be? Glen shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, and probed tentatively, "The God of Truth?"

  The boy's expression froze. "How could you pos..."

  He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

  Glen was equally taken aback. He'd merely made a random guess and, to his surprise, hit the mark.

  He'd simply named the first deity that came to mind, never expecting such serendipity.

  "Seems the gods aren't as sagacious as one might think," Glen drawled nonchalantly.

  This comment incensed the boy to no end. He'd been dispatched by the primary consciousness to recruit followers in this region, with a particular focus on those hailing from Bayek.

  Yet, things had spiraled out of control, and if word of this got out, it would be a significant stain on the reputation of the God of Truth.

  How could the consciousness of a divine being be toyed with by a mere mortal? This man must be eliminated! A seething hatred welled up within the boy.

  "The God of Truth, you're quite the restless one. Merely being interrupted by that elven high - priest has set you off. Did you follow the forest will that thwarted your plans here? Most likely. But why target me?"

  Glen folded his arms and began to circle the boy, each word he uttered edging closer to the truth.

  The boy, who claimed to be an incarnation of the God of Truth's consciousness, remained tight - lipped, showing no reaction to Glen's words.

  Suddenly, Glen placed a hand on the boy's head, ruffling his hair, and asked in a tone of mock concern, "Those two slaps must have stung quite a bit, eh? I do hope the great God of Truth doesn't start crying! I've no lollipops to soothe you with, you know."

  An aura of distortion began to emanate from the boy, causing the surrounding space to warp. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a clear indication of his extreme rage.

  But Glen, feigning ignorance, continued, "You know, the feeling of slapping was rather satisfying. It's the first time I've ever slapped a divine being. I'll surely regale others with this tale. Hahaha..."

  Finally, consumed by fury, the boy erupted. The entire space began to crumble, as if a colossal edifice were in irreversible collapse.

  Yet, Glen remained unperturbed. Once the space had completely disintegrated, everything reverted to its former state.

  Glen found himself once again standing in front of the police station, with the boy staring at him in stunned disbelief.

  "Why are you unharmed!?" the boy demanded, his voice filled with incredulity.

  "Why should I be otherwise?" Glen countered.

  "That was a psychic assault capable of shattering anyone's will! How could you possibly have withstood it!?"

  The boy roared, his voice attracting the attention of several passers - by in the distance.

  "Shatter the will?" Glen pondered.

  The sensation of the collapsing space had indeed given him the illusion that the entire universe was on the verge of annihilation. However, it had fallen short of breaking his will.

  Glen had been confident precisely because he was certain that these deities wouldn't leave overly potent forces on the continent. Otherwise, the God of Truth wouldn't have been unable to overcome a mere forest will.

  As Glen had anticipated, despite the grand display, the intention had been to break his will through illusions.

  "I presume destroying this physical form of yours won't eliminate your so - called incarnation of the divine consciousness, will it?"

  Glen fixed the boy with a direct gaze and asked.

  The boy remained silent, his eyes blazing with a furious glare.

  "Then go inform your deity to behave. You're no longer on the continent, yet you still seek to cause chaos. Do gods get bored too?"

  Glen waved dismissively and walked away.

  Whether the boy was possessed or something else, attacking him was futile. Glen was powerless against an intangible consciousness.

  At best, he could only goad it with his words.

  As Glen climbed into his deer - drawn carriage and rode off, the boy suddenly rolled his eyes and slumped to the ground.

  The invisible consciousness then vanished from the sky.

  ...

  "Why have you returned so soon?"

  "What? There's such a person?"

  "Bayek is indeed no easy conquest. But fear not, I have ample patience."

  "Thanks to that elven high - priest. Otherwise, I'd never have discovered that there's such a vast, untouched treasure in the elemental realm."

  The voice of the God of Truth echoed through an unknown expanse, filled with a fervor not felt in over ten thousand years.