Part of him still couldn’t quite believe it. He’d never gone that deep for a file before, and then to come out of it feeling the way he did; his mind was still reeling, spinning like a top. It was absolutely insane. He felt like a fucking GOD…no he WAS a God.

His mind had shifted completely from the person he was just a couple hours earlier. He used to be so sweet, so timid; big and strong sure, but at his heart he was still that scrawny little insecure teenager…God, he couldn’t believe he used to be such a weak, whiny piece of trash. The workout he just had however completely cemented his new reality of Godhood. He always pushed it to the max when he hit the gym, you didn’t build a body as magnificent as his by half-assing it.

But today felt like a rush. The purest high he had ever felt. With every rep, every pump of his muscles he felt like he could rule the world. Better than Sex, better than drugs; his physical form and awareness of it felt like the best sensation he had ever or would ever experience.

The round, perfect peak of his Bicep flexing and unflex. He could feel the veins and sinews rippling beneath his perfect copper skin. Everything felt so good! From the weight of the bar in his hands to his tank top that clung to his sculpted frame and made his nipples and abs print against the fabric. His mind was slowly becoming unhinged.

The words still echoed

“You are a God.” “The pinnacle of creation” “Superior in every way to every other lifeform on this planet”

The voice of that mysterious person whispering absolute truths in his ears. He knew it. He fucking knew he was a God! So why did it take him so long to figure that out? His hands tightened around the barbell, so tight he felt he might dent the steel beneath his fingers. The rage coursed through his body, fury and anger and disappointment, first at himself for ever doubting his own greatness, and then at the rest of the worthless beings who dared to take up space and oxygen in HIS fucking Gym.

He knew what he wanted now. It suddenly became clear to him as he planted the heavy set of weights, stacked with more plates than he had ever lifted in his life, to the floor. He wanted worship. He wanted to be treated and praised like the God he knew he was. He looked around at the other gym-goers, the posers and worthless insects who had not yet come to acknowledge his godhood. Some were even bigger than him, but it did not matter. They would kneel. They would all bend and worship him, kissing the ground he walked upon.  They would beg and scramble to lay their hands upon him, knowing that even touching greatness might impart some of his divine spark on to them. They would fawn over him as he flexed and posed the statuesque body that could rival the gods of old. He was the new God and they would all submit to him.

And if they didn’t, they would simply face his wrath.

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