Reverberations in All Realms

Above the desperate pole, in a dilapidated house, a lonely man repaired a broken oil lamp. The lights went out three times. For the first time, he learned to borrow things from the dead - and even forgot to return what he borrowed. The second time, he killed nine gods and immortal friends. The third time, someone smiled and told him: What you just killed was a human being. He is not in the light. Not in the book. Not in fate. So the lights are on. The book is clear. The person who wrote the book disappeared. He also forgot himself. But the silver bracelet on someone's wrist occasionally gets burned at night.