Amara was appalled. She found the thought that gods were feeding on mortal souls, like livestock, to be utterly deplorable. Even if she didn’t know what would happen to souls without the gods’ interventions, Amara thought the gods had no right to them. And it didn’t sound like it was anything pleasant.
But Amara knew she could do nothing about it either. She was far too weak, and knew far too little.
For the first time in her life, she was bothered by a feeling of helplessness. Amara didn’t consider herself the most moral person, but she had standards. A moral code she strictly stood by, and what she’d heard went against them.
Her anger at the gods was reignited. From what she knew, they did nothing for mortals, yet fed on their souls without lifting a finger. And the angels were in on it.
Disgusting.
Amara’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar clang.
[Ding!]
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