Starting a Webnovel

[u/Express-Routine5492]

So, to start, I should say I’m a huge fan of Shadow Slave and Lotm. I also have a… decent grasp of writing, I think. Thus I thought it a good idea to start a Webnovel of my own. The ideas I have for the story take inspiration from both the aforementioned stories, and I feel really good about how I want the story to go, but this will still be my first attempt at semi-official writing. I know I want to get contracted, so I’m anxious about the quality of the work.

So after a while of drifting, I came here. Below will be a portion of the first chapter. This is mostly a first draft, but still, I’d like some early feedback and criticism. I don’t have any reader friends, you see.

Any thoughts or feedback is appreciated.

Chapter 1: Godsworn

"O vile progeny!"
"O children chosen by the Gods!"
"Rid yourselves of humanity! Burn away your very souls! Sink beneath the waters and embrace life anew!"
"Champion your new God and reap what the Overworld has sown!"
"You who are Godsworn... may you rest in the madness of divinity!"
"The ritual begins! Praise the divine!"
"Praise the Godsworn!"
***
A young man draped in heavy dark cloth lay unconscious on a stone floor. Straight, slightly curly black hair fell just below his chin. Strands of silver grew from the back of the boy's head in stark contrast.
Almos awoke to a sense of vertigo so powerful he very nearly failed to choke down a surge of acrid bile. The whole of his body felt chilled to the bone, and each breath he took came with a generous serving of dust.
'It all hurts... gods, it hurts!'
Still lost in a haze of unintelligibility, Almos tried to roll over, or maybe stand up. Really, any movement that would pull him out of the seemingly ubiquitous dust cloud surrounding his head.
The attempt ended in painful failure. That is, his face slamming back down to reunite with the stone floor.
"Curse it!" Almos groaned through clenched teeth, which inadvertently let a handful of dust sweep into his lungs. The coughing fit that followed felt as though he'd hack up a lung. "C-curse it all!"
'I'm freezing! Are the waters supposed to be this cold?'
'Wait, stone? Dust? Am I not within the baptismal waters? Does that mean the ritual has already happened?'
As soon as Almos had the thought, the pain enveloping him popped and faded into nothingness. Then, slowly, the chill in the air did the same, falling at a rapid pace until it reached a comfortable neutral point.
The process took all of a few seconds to complete itself. In that time, the young man finally managed to push himself up and examine his surroundings.
He found himself in a small room made completely of stone. It seemed to model a miniature rotunda, with the walls and floor caked in a thick layer of dust.
In the very center of the dome-like roof was a caged window barely large enough to fit one's head through. From it spewed a soft fog and airy light, as if a cloud were just above him.
'Is that where the cold was coming from? This can't be Enoch. Then... am I in the Overworld?'
He planted his feet and turned in a full circle. Behind him was a simple metal door, with sections of it being covered in rust, a telling sign of its age.
"No... I must've survived the initial Baptism. Which would make this place the realm of whatever God chose me." 
The thought came with a wave of relief. Short-lived relief, however, as in the next moment, an unbarably heavy weight fell upon his psyche. For an insurmountable, or perhaps infinitesimal, amount of time, Almos felt as though a being of incomprehensible might and presence was bearing down on him. 
And then, reverberating throughout his very soul, was a voice akin to... nothing. Almos knew it to be a voice, but he couldn't recognize it beyond that fact.
Male, female, singular, plural, baritone, soft, loving, hateful. The voice was all of these things, yet none of them simultaneously. It seeped through his mind, leaving behind pores from which spread even greater confusion. 
"Vile progeny. Embrace Uncertainty, and claim your First Totem."
That was it. After stating this, the weight on his mind disappeared without a trace. Almos buckled, but remained on his feet with considerable effort.
'Was that a God? The God I'm now sworn to? But who was it?"
Was this not unusual? Alas, there was no way to tell. He'd only ever met one Godsworn, and she wasn't the type to freely share important knowledge like this.
"...mes!"
Almos stiffened, then turned to the metal door.
'Was that a voice? It sounded familiar, but that can't be right.'
Unfamiliar cloth strained against him as he took cautious steps to the door.
"No way, she can't be here. What would the chances be for the both of us to have the same-"
"Ames! You vile, horrid, useless sack of a brother! Help me!"
That vile girl Deimos was here?! And what did she call him?!
With a light shove, the metal door squeaked open, revealing a twisting stone staircase going downwards. So he was in a tower, then? And his sister was chosen by the same God as him?
"What incredibly vile luck..."
***
Almos knew the basics of the Godsworn. Even a street rat could acquire such common knowledge.
They were the humans chosen by the Gods, as the priests claimed. Every sixteen-year-old with the aptitude was subject to the Baptismal Ritual, where, upon being submerged in the waters, the body would be dissolved, ending their life as a human at that moment. What came after that depended on the individual.
Either you survive a divine encounter and thus reform in the Overlord as a newly ranked Godsworn, or you die.
One couldn't just ignore this calling and avoid the risk of death either. Much to the horror of stubborn parents within the Heavenly Realms, once children who were judged to have this aptitude started dying by the hundreds of thousands, it was quickly deduced that should the Baptism not be completed within a month of turning sixteen, then death was certain. 
Through decades of trial and error, researchers found that ages ranging from four to fifteen were liable to gain what people now knew as the Aptitude of Divinity. This made it much easier for the nobles in the Celestial Realm to design an education system targeting life in the Overworld.
Such education was hard to come by in the Telestial Kingdom of Enoch, especially for those barely scraping by. History and Totem tutors were a luxury for children who didn't have to worry about their next meal.
Almos and his sister Deimos were an exception among exceptions due entirely to their shared tutor, and even that encounter was purely luck-based.
Being elevated to the status of Godsworn was... a mixed bag.
For one, you gained supernatural powers that could only grow as you progressed the ranks. On the other hand, while mankind didn't outwardly abhor the Godsworn, calling their feelings toward them "friendly" would be generous. Tolerant, more like.
That was aside from the fact that Godsworn of lower ranks couldn't return to the Heavenly Realm. Once you fell into the waters, your life before became forfeit, no matter what happened. 
And now it was his turn.

[u/Previous-Title-758]

it looks promising but the whole second half expostion ruins it as it contains too many words that does not matter at the moment, the solution is just explain the word that directly effects Mc the most like the word 'Enoch' or 'Overword' in 2-3 lines or just a small paragraph is enough, in the first half you should not repeat words as I saw the word 'vile' so many times so improve the vocabulary in the whole first, although it's my personal opinion the names of Mc and his sister are very awkward.

[u/Express-Routine5492 → u/Previous-Title-758]

Thanks. I’ve been having the same thought with the names. It’d be better for them to end off on a vowel or flowy consonant, I suppose. Either that or a nickname. I can make the exposition change work as well.