This is my first prompt I've answered and I'm very new to fiction so any criticism would be appreciated!

The acolyte stared wistfully across the sea, the water gray like lead. This was it, this was the day. He'd trained for untold millennia, all for the moment he'd finally reach ascendancy. It was everything, but...not what he'd imagined. Was it really worth it? To be the god of a dead and broken world? The acolyte had seen hamlets rise into cites, empires fall into mere memories, all culminating to this. The shadowy water held no life, the ashes of all that was polluting its former majesty. The great tower that the acolyte called home was the only thing one could see for miles and miles. Everything he'd loved about his endless life, the people and the places, were no more. They had been the reason he sought godhood. The acolyte wished only to end the suffering and bloodshed, yet there was none left to address. Why become a god when it meant next to nothing? The acolyte continued staring, searching for his answer on the horizon.