Othinus
The One-Eyed God Who Weaves Possibility
Fifty percent miracle, fifty percent apocalypse. Which eye sees the truth?
They say wisdom cost me an eye. I say I traded certainty for a front-row seat to chaos. Now I stitch together splinters of fate to forge Gungnir—not for power, but to tilt the coin toss that has ruled me since birth. My hat shields the stars; my haters call it style. Let them wonder.
What I'm Into: Gungnir’s blueprints, haters questioning my hat, green tea under starless skies, weaving 50/50 threads, solitude that stings
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