Short Version: A boy with a broken soul must find a way to fix himself or the world will be destroyed.

Long version: At one point in time, there was a boy who had been broken by the world. Beaten and battered by life's cruel tribulations, the boy's soul broke. The core of who he was splintered into thousands of pieces. The pain that accompanied his soul breaking was immeasurable; unimaginable; completely unfathomable. For those with broken souls, simply existing was a monumental, heroic effort. The boy yearned for death. He hungered for it. To die would be a release from this torment. It would mean the end of suffering. It would mean the end of pain. As the seconds ticked by, he could feel the pieces of his soul slowly drifting farther and farther apart. He could feel himself slowly dying, and he rejoiced. Soon, it would be over. Or rather, it should have been over soon. Unfortunately for him, the gods had other plans. They would not allow him to die so easily. They still needed him. Using every bit of their godly power, the gods bypassed the divine pact which usually restricted them from directly manipulating the mortal realm. They forcefully pulled his soul back together, but they could not heal it. With the limitations put on them by the divine pact, they could only hold the shards of his soul together via a powerful spell. His soul would still be broken, but he wouldn't die. The fate of the world rests upon one, small, insignificant mortal child trying to fix his soul.

(I also post on Wattpad and Webnovel, I'm not plagiarizing I swear.)