Legacy of Blackwood

POV: Chris – The God of Blackwood

The streets weren't quiet—they were reverent. Every step I took echoed like prophecy.

Flanked by my elite—twelve men handpicked not just for strength, but for their unwavering, soul-bound loyalty—I walked through the heart of the empire like a shadow and a sun combined.

People didn't scream. They didn't shout. They froze, like time itself bent at my presence. Mothers held their children closer. Market sellers stopped mid-transaction. A banker paused with stacks of Blackwood Currency in his hand, lips trembling.

I said nothing yet. I didn't need to.

My elite moved with silent grace, black armored suits glistening in the light, masks half-lifted, eyes scanning everything like living weapons. Each step we took down the center of the city—past the grand Blackwood Bank, across the Sovereign Market, into the civic nerve centers—sent a single, undeniable message:

"The God is watching."

I approached a food vendor. He dropped to his knees. "My lord, forgive the dust on my hands…"

I placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Feed them well. Raise them stronger. The Empire rewards the loyal."

He wept as I moved on.

Inside the main activity center, where businesses operated under curfew law, I noticed a young manager panicking to clear his files—time was creeping toward the minute mark. I raised a brow. He froze. I raised my hand.

"Relax. You've obeyed."

He collapsed in relief.

This wasn't just a patrol. This was a reminder.

That their God walked the same roads. That I didn't rule from a distant tower, but walked among them. Saw them. Watched every heartbeat of the Empire.

We entered the Central Bank last. The Chief of Operations stuttered as I approached.

"You passed the loan," I said calmly.

"Yes, m-my Lord. As authorized."

"Good. Watch the numbers. No games. No ghosts in the system."

"I swear on my blood."

I turned to leave, and the building exhaled. They didn't even realize they'd been holding their breath.

Outside, children knelt. Citizens bowed. My elite parted the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea.

Let the world watch. Let the traitors hide. The throne may sit still—but the God is moving.