My name is Bishop Hayes, and I am finally free.
I just left the lawyer's office, where I finalized a divorce from my wife of 18 years. We were childhood sweethearts who got married right out of high school because I got her pregnant.
At first, we were optimistic—sharing responsibilities, trading sleepless nights, and working minimum-wage jobs to pay for the baby. But it didn't last long.
She became pregnant again shortly after our wedding, and before long, we were the proud parents of a boy and a girl born less than a year apart. I got a vasectomy the same day we found out about the second pregnancy.
Unfortunately, raising two kids left us with no time for peace, let alone intimacy. Between work and sleepless nights, our sex life faded into the background. We told ourselves we'd make up for it once the kids were a little older but that time never came.
Our love life remained on the back burner, overshadowed by the daily grind of parenting. Five years of that routine quietly wore away at our bond, leaving behind only frustration, distance, and unspoken resentment.
We both kept it to ourselves, but deep down, we knew the other felt the same. We wanted a divorce but chose to prioritize the children.
So, we made a pact: we'd separate once our daughter—the younger of the two—turned 18. That way, we could make a clean break without the usual mess and drama of a typical divorce. More importantly, it ensured our children had the stable childhood they deserved.
Once they turned 18, all bets were off. From that point on, they would have to face the realities and complications of life—just like we did.
Now, I sit in the park outside the lawyer's office, indulging in my favorite pastime while reflecting on what the future might hold.
My wife and I were both individually well off, which is why we chose to avoid a messy divorce. We built ourselves from the ground up, climbing the career ladder step by step.
Today, I own a small company that designs, manufactures, and ships custom-order machines to companies around the world. From here on, I plan to marry a nice, submissive woman and enjoy a peaceful life of luxury.
As I sit and think, a happy family of three walks by. The parents share a warm smile while their daughter swings joyfully between them, her hands held tightly in theirs.
Judging by their clothes, the husband likely works in an office, while the wife stays at home to care for their child. I notice a faint smear of lipstick on the inside of the husband's collar—it doesn't match his wife's shade. He's cheating on her, probably with his secretary.
The wife, though, is exactly my type: a homemaker who prioritizes her child and would likely give her husband a blowjob at the end of a long day if he asked.
She probably knows about the affair—she does the laundry, after all—but stays silent. She's likely terrified of losing her security, of raising her daughter without a provider. She doesn't look like the kind of woman who would survive entering the workforce.
Based on their current trajectory, the wife will likely divorce the husband once she builds up enough motivation from watching dramas and reading romance novels. She'll quietly collect evidence of the affair until she's ready—then take him for everything he's worth.
The husband will grind away like a mule until his daughter turns 18, finally freeing him from child support. But by then, it'll be too late—he'll be estranged from his daughter, and his future will look bleak. Most likely, he'll keep working into his 70s just to scrape together enough for retirement.
The daughter will grow up with a fractured childhood, caught between two manipulative parents. The mother will win the tug-of-war simply by virtue of time spent with her. The girl will likely develop daddy issues—something that, ironically, will benefit men like me in the future.
As they continue on with their day, another couple walks by, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. Judging by how tightly they cling to one another, they've likely moved past their third date.
I get the distinct feeling they'll live happily ever after—three kids, a suburban home, the whole package.
Every now and then, I get these premonitions, flashes of how people's lives might unfold, just from observing their unguarded interactions.
It's part of why I've always loved watching people go about their lives.
I've had this strange talent since childhood, so I turned it into a game. I analyze people and build entire worlds around them. I guess their occupation, financial status, sex life, lifestyle, religion—you name it—all in an effort to predict where they'll end up.
Some move with purpose, chasing goals they've set to navigate the harsh realities of life. Others drift more freely, unconcerned with the bigger picture, simply living one day at a time.
Regardless of their motivations, people wear certain expressions when they're on autopilot—and I find joy in imagining the lives they lead as they pass me by.
There's something almost magical about the way people interact with one another and the world around them. It never stops fascinating me, which is why parks have always been my favorite place to be.
People are at their most unguarded when they're lost in a crowd that seems just as busy and distracted as they are.
Which is why I hadn't noticed the speeding car swerving in my direction.
"Watch out!" someone in the crowd screamed.
I followed the sound and saw a woman across the street, her eyes locked on mine in alarm. I turned to the left—just in time to see the car slam into a utility pole, snapping it clean off.
I leapt from the bench and onto the road, narrowly dodging the falling pole that landed exactly where I'd been sitting.
Heart pounding, I let out a shaky breath, grateful to be alive—only to take a step and land in a puddle crackling with electricity from the fallen wires.
Everything went black. No memories of what must have been a gruesome death ever surfaced.
The next thing I knew, I stood before a Goddess, seated upon a throne of radiant light in a hall of drifting clouds.
Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight spun into silk, cascading over ivory skin that seemed untouched by time. Her eyes glowed with an inner emerald fire, luminous and all-seeing. She was veiled in sheer white silk that floated around her form like whispers of mist, barely concealing the naked divine beauty beneath.
Behind her, radiant beams of light flared outward, forming ethereal wings that pulsed with celestial grace. She was majesty incarnate. Undeniably, impossibly, a Goddess.
She was the most breathtaking being I had ever laid eyes on, so far beyond mortal comprehension that calling it love at first sight felt woefully inadequate. I wanted her, utterly, desperately.
Unfortunately, she didn't look particularly pleased to see me.
"Congratulations," she said, her voice calm but laced with concealed irritation. "I have chosen you as my champion. You will represent me in Gaia to slay a god. Your boon will be granted in due time. Now, off you go."
'Wait,' I tried to say—but no words came out. I glanced down, startled to find my form now wispy and ethereal.
With a dismissive wave of her hand, the Goddess banished me, and once more, my world faded to black.
"This won't do. I'll need to use another quota," she muttered, summoning another.
The next thing I remembered was a blinding light... and voices. I couldn't understand the language, but their tones were bright and full of joy. It sounded like they were celebrating.
I was warm and cozy, wrapped in soft cloth, with gentle whispers brushing against my ears. I couldn't see yet, but I felt it deep in my heart.
I was loved.
With that final, comforting thought, I drifted off to sleep.
-----
"Congratulations, madam. It's a healthy boy," the doctor said, gently handing the newborn to the mother.
"Thank you, doctor. Were there any complications?" asked the young woman.
She had tousled blonde hair and blue eyes brimming with relief. Tall and slender, she looked remarkably well for someone who had just given birth.
"None at all."
"Good. Leave us," said a youthful-looking man beside her.
He had glittering, translucent hair that shimmered with occasional sparks of prismatic hues, and deep blue eyes. Standing at 6'7" (2 m), he was built like a mountain—broad-shouldered, with an imposing presence.
"Understood," the doctor replied with a nod, quietly exiting the room as the midwives followed behind.
"Hopefully, he accepts responsibility so we can finally leave," the man said softly, settling beside the woman.
"Yes. We could finally start a journey of our own. We just need to wait until he graduates from the Royal Academy."
"Only 23 more years."
"Do you think he will accept?"
"None of the others wanted the responsibility. So, we can only hope for the best."
"I see... I still feel guilty, leaving them like this."
"There's no other way. We cannot afford to bring them all with us. They might not even want to leave."
"Except for Lucian and Liliane. Have you thought of a name?"
"Bastion. Bastion Diamondhart."
"Bit on the nose, don't you think?"
"He needs to understand his purpose."
"Alright then... let's see his status."
The man retrieved a crystal and gently placed it against the child's forehead. It pulsed with white light before projecting a glowing hologram between the two parents.
[Name]: Bastion Diamondhart
[Age]: 0
[Health]: 1/1
[Mana]: 8/8
[Strength]: 1
[Dexterity]: 1
[Vitality]: 1
[Intelligence]: 8
[Wisdom]: 15
[Charm]: 10
[Intuition]: 50
[Arts]: Earth Magic 2, Light Magic 2, Smithing 2, Taming 1, Cooking 1
After a long, uncomfortable silence,
"We tell no one?" the father asked.
"We tell no one," the mother confirmed.
And so ended the story of Bishop Hayes and began the journey of Bastion Diamondhart.
-----
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