Seraphim POV
The forest's silence lingered in my ears long after I left it behind. Each step I
took toward Caelum felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of the
confrontation with Lucian had latched onto my shoulders like chains. His words
played on a loop in my mind, their sharpness cutting deeper with every repetition.
He didn't even flinch. How did he know I was there?
The gates of Caelum came into view, a stark reminder of the city's obliviousness
to the looming storm. Beyond the iron barriers lay a world of mundane
distractions—markets buzzing with life, children running through the streets, and
citizens who still believed the world was as simple as good versus evil.
But I knew better now.
Passing through the gates, I felt the familiar pulse of the city, yet it seemed
almost alien. My eyes scanned the crowds, searching for signs of unease, but
there were none. How could they know that beneath their fragile peace,
something far darker brewed?
I headed toward my quarters in the city's heart, brushing off greetings and
curious glances. My mind was too tangled to care for pleasantries.
By the time I reached the dim confines of my study, the weight of the day finally
pressed down. I slumped into a chair, staring blankly at the table in front of me.
The encounter in the forest replayed itself vividly. Lucian, poised and unbothered,
had looked straight at me—his gaze sharper than I'd ever seen it before. There
was no way he should have known I was there. The thought chilled me to my core.
Lucian Blackwell… an awakener? No. That's impossible.
The idea was absurd on its surface. Lucian had always been the untouchable
billionaire, the man who built his empire through sheer determination and wit. A
human among gods and monsters, yet always managing to stay ahead of the curve.
But something about him in that moment had been different—too different to
ignore.
I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands. "If I'm wrong, I'll look like a fool.
If I'm right…"
The thought trailed off, but the conclusion was obvious. If Lucian truly was an
awakener, hiding his power all this time, it meant one thing: he was far more
dangerous than any of us had ever imagined.
And if he's dangerous… then I need to be ready.
Pushing my chair back, I rose with renewed purpose. The first step was clear. I
needed allies, people I could trust—awakeners capable of facing what was coming.
I couldn't afford hesitation.
The city outside my window pulsed with life, unaware of the shadow inching closer.
Soon enough, that shadow would fall, and when it did, Caelum would never be the
same.
I turned away from the view, my fingers instinctively reaching for the small
communication device on my desk. It was unassuming—a sleek black rectangle with
a single crystalline orb embedded in its surface—but it carried the weight of
countless possibilities.
I hesitated, the memory of Lucian's unwavering gaze flashing through my mind
again. Calling on others meant admitting that I couldn't do this alone. But this
wasn't about pride. This was survival.
The first name came easily.
"Call Alaric," I murmured, pressing my thumb against the orb.
The device hummed softly, projecting a glowing blue sigil into the air. A few
seconds later, the image flickered, replaced by a rugged face framed by tousled
silver hair. Alaric's golden eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to the projection,
his surroundings dim and cluttered—a workshop, if I had to guess.
"Seraphim?" Alaric's voice was rough but carried a note of surprise. "Haven't
heard from you in years. What's the occasion?"
I got straight to the point. "I need your help. Something's coming, Alaric.
Something big."
His expression hardened. "You're not one to exaggerate. What are we talking
about?"
"A threat that could wipe out everything." I paused, choosing my words carefully.
"I don't have all the details yet, but I know this: we won't survive unless we're
prepared. I'm forming a team—awakeners I can trust."
Alaric crossed his arms, his golden eyes scrutinizing me. "Trust, huh? That's a
heavy word, coming from you. Who else is on this team of yours?"
"Not many yet," I admitted. "That's why I'm calling you."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Fine. I'm in.
But you owe me an explanation—and a hell of a lot more than that—when this is
over."
"I'll hold you to that."
The connection faded, and I immediately moved on to the next name.
"Call Amara and Elias," I said.
The orb flickered again, and this time, two faces appeared side by side. Amara's
sharp green eyes glinted with mischief, while Elias's softer, quieter demeanor was
betrayed only by his unnervingly calm expression.
"Seraphim," Amara drawled, a smirk curling her lips. "To what do we owe the
honor?"
"I need your talents," I said bluntly. "Both of you."
"Talents?" Elias's voice was soft but carried a sharp edge. "This must be serious."
"It is," I said, meeting their gazes through the projection. "I need you to be part
of a team—a strike force. Amara, your illusions can confuse even the most
seasoned enemy. And Elias…"
"Gravity manipulation," he said simply. "You think it'll be enough?"
I hesitated. "It's a start."
Amara tilted her head, her expression more serious now. "What's the catch?"
I sighed. "The stakes are higher than they've ever been. If we fail, there might
not be a world left to fight for."
The smirk vanished from her face. She glanced at Elias, who gave her a small nod.
"We're in," Amara said.
One by one, I made the calls—each one a plea for aid in the face of an unknown
enemy. Some were easy to convince, others less so. There was Lyric, whose control
over shadows bordered on the supernatural. Valen, a healer with the rare ability
to siphon pain from others, though at great cost to himself. And the twins, Idris
and Ivana, who fought as a single unit, their coordination so seamless it was as
though they shared one mind.
By the time the last call ended, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting
Caelum in a soft orange glow. My study was quiet again, save for the faint hum of
the device in my hand.
I set it down and leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. The pieces
were falling into place, but the weight of it all pressed down on me.
Lucian… an awakener?
It didn't add up. If he was one, he'd hidden it so well that even I had never
suspected. But something in the forest had changed. He'd seen me when he
shouldn't have, reacted when no ordinary human could.
I closed my eyes, letting the silence settle around me. The city hummed with life
beyond my walls, but for the first time, it felt like the calm before the storm.
We have days—maybe less. And none of them know what's coming.
Days had passed since that long night in my study.
The city of Caelum continued its bustling routine, oblivious to the undercurrent
of unease brewing just beneath the surface. But for those of us who knew the
truth, time had taken on a sharp, cutting quality—each hour slipping away like sand
through clenched fists.
In a secluded training facility on the outskirts of the city, the team I had
assembled worked tirelessly. The facility itself was an abandoned industrial
compound, repurposed into a makeshift base. The air was thick with the sound of
clashing metal, the sharp crackle of energy, and the shouts of determination as
awakeners pushed themselves to their limits.
Standing on an elevated platform overlooking the training grounds, I watched as
they moved. Amara's illusions flickered across the space, creating shadowy
figures that darted and lunged at the others. Idris and Ivana, the twins, worked
in perfect unison, slicing through the phantoms with brutal efficiency. Elias stood
to the side, manipulating the gravity around him to create an invisible barrier that
deflected attacks, while Valen tended to a wounded recruit on the far end of the
field, his face pale from the strain of his healing powers.
Alaric approached me, his silver hair slicked back with sweat and his golden eyes
scanning the scene below. He carried his battle-axe slung over his shoulder, its
edge glinting ominously in the artificial light.
"They're improving," he said, his voice rough but approving.
"They'll need to," I replied. "This isn't just about raw power. They have to learn
to fight as a unit."
Alaric smirked. "You've got a real ragtag bunch here, Seraphim. You sure they're
up for this?"
I turned to him, my expression grim. "They don't have a choice. None of us do."
He grunted, clearly unsatisfied with my answer but unwilling to press the issue.
"What about you?" he asked after a moment. "You've been quieter than usual.
What's going on in that head of yours?"
I hesitated, my gaze drifting to the horizon. "Lucian," I admitted. "He's…
different. Stronger. And I don't just mean physically. There's something about
him—something I didn't see before."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You think he's hiding something?"
I nodded. "I know he is. But I can't figure out what. No one knows him better than
I do, and yet it feels like I've only just scratched the surface."
Alaric studied me for a moment, then clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "We'll
deal with him when the time comes. For now, focus on what's in front of you."
I nodded, though his words did little to ease the knot in my chest.
Scene 2: The Calm Before the Eclipse
Days had passed since that long night in my study.
The city of Caelum continued its bustling routine, oblivious to the undercurrent
of unease brewing just beneath the surface. But for those of us who knew the
truth, time had taken on a sharp, cutting quality—each hour slipping away like sand
through clenched fists.
In a secluded training facility on the outskirts of the city, the team I had
assembled worked tirelessly. The facility itself was an abandoned industrial
compound, repurposed into a makeshift base. The air was thick with the sound of
clashing metal, the sharp crackle of energy, and the shouts of determination as
awakeners pushed themselves to their limits.
Standing on an elevated platform overlooking the training grounds, I watched as
they moved. Amara's illusions flickered across the space, creating shadowy
figures that darted and lunged at the others. Idris and Ivana, the twins, worked
in perfect unison, slicing through the phantoms with brutal efficiency. Elias stood
to the side, manipulating the gravity around him to create an invisible barrier that
deflected attacks, while Valen tended to a wounded recruit on the far end of the
field, his face pale from the strain of his healing powers.
Alaric approached me, his silver hair slicked back with sweat and his golden eyes
scanning the scene below. He carried his battle-axe slung over his shoulder, its
edge glinting ominously in the artificial light.
"They're improving," he said, his voice rough but approving.
"They'll need to," I replied. "This isn't just about raw power. They have to learn
to fight as a unit."
Alaric smirked. "You've got a real ragtag bunch here, Seraphim. You sure they're
up for this?"
I turned to him, my expression grim. "They don't have a choice. None of us do."
He grunted, clearly unsatisfied with my answer but unwilling to press the issue.
"What about you?" he asked after a moment. "You've been quieter than usual.
What's going on in that head of yours?"
I hesitated, my gaze drifting to the horizon. "Lucian," I admitted. "He's…
different. Stronger. And I don't just mean physically. There's something about
him—something I didn't see before."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You think he's hiding something?"
I nodded. "I know he is. But I can't figure out what. No one knows him better than
I do, and yet it feels like I've only just scratched the surface."
Alaric studied me for a moment, then clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "We'll
deal with him when the time comes. For now, focus on what's in front of you."
I nodded, though his words did little to ease the knot in my chest.
The following morning, the team gathered in the main hall of the compound. A
large table dominated the center of the room, its surface covered with maps,
diagrams, and hastily scribbled notes.
Amara leaned casually against the wall, twirling a dagger between her fingers.
"Alright, fearless leader," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What's the
plan?"
I stepped forward, placing my hands on the edge of the table. "Our focus is
preparation. Lucian is planning something massive, and we need to be ready for
anything."
Elias frowned, his calm demeanor shifting to one of concern. "Do we know what
he's after yet?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. But I do know this: the key he's forging—whatever it
opens—is tied to the eclipse."
That caught everyone's attention.
"The eclipse?" Valen repeated, his brow furrowed. "You mean the one in three
days?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "Whatever Lucian is planning, the eclipse is the deadline. We
have to be ready to face him by then."
The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling over the group.
"And what if we're not?" Idris asked, his voice quiet but steady.
"Then we fail," I said simply. "And if we fail, we lose everything."
No one argued. There was nothing left to say.
Scene 2: The Calm Before the Eclipse
Days had passed since that long night in my study.
The city of Caelum continued its bustling routine, oblivious to the undercurrent
of unease brewing just beneath the surface. But for those of us who knew the
truth, time had taken on a sharp, cutting quality—each hour slipping away like sand
through clenched fists.
In a secluded training facility on the outskirts of the city, the team I had
assembled worked tirelessly. The facility itself was an abandoned industrial
compound, repurposed into a makeshift base. The air was thick with the sound of
clashing metal, the sharp crackle of energy, and the shouts of determination as
awakeners pushed themselves to their limits.
Standing on an elevated platform overlooking the training grounds, I watched as
they moved. Amara's illusions flickered across the space, creating shadowy
figures that darted and lunged at the others. Idris and Ivana, the twins, worked
in perfect unison, slicing through the phantoms with brutal efficiency. Elias stood
to the side, manipulating the gravity around him to create an invisible barrier that
deflected attacks, while Valen tended to a wounded recruit on the far end of the
field, his face pale from the strain of his healing powers.
Alaric approached me, his silver hair slicked back with sweat and his golden eyes
scanning the scene below. He carried his battle-axe slung over his shoulder, its
edge glinting ominously in the artificial light.
"They're improving," he said, his voice rough but approving.
"They'll need to," I replied. "This isn't just about raw power. They have to learn
to fight as a unit."
Alaric smirked. "You've got a real ragtag bunch here, Seraphim. You sure they're
up for this?"
I turned to him, my expression grim. "They don't have a choice. None of us do."
He grunted, clearly unsatisfied with my answer but unwilling to press the issue.
"What about you?" he asked after a moment. "You've been quieter than usual.
What's going on in that head of yours?"
I hesitated, my gaze drifting to the horizon. "Lucian," I admitted. "He's…
different. Stronger. And I don't just mean physically. There's something about
him—something I didn't see before."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You think he's hiding something?"
I nodded. "I know he is. But I can't figure out what. No one knows him better than
I do, and yet it feels like I've only just scratched the surface."
Alaric studied me for a moment, then clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "We'll
deal with him when the time comes. For now, focus on what's in front of you."
I nodded, though his words did little to ease the knot in my chest.
The following morning, the team gathered in the main hall of the compound. A
large table dominated the center of the room, its surface covered with maps,
diagrams, and hastily scribbled notes.
Amara leaned casually against the wall, twirling a dagger between her fingers.
"Alright, fearless leader," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What's the
plan?"
I stepped forward, placing my hands on the edge of the table. "Our focus is
preparation. Lucian is planning something massive, and we need to be ready for
anything."
Elias frowned, his calm demeanor shifting to one of concern. "Do we know what
he's after yet?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. But I do know this: the key he's forging—whatever it
opens—is tied to the eclipse."
That caught everyone's attention.
"The eclipse?" Valen repeated, his brow furrowed. "You mean the one in three
days?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "Whatever Lucian is planning, the eclipse is the deadline. We
have to be ready to face him by then."
The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling over the group.
"And what if we're not?" Idris asked, his voice quiet but steady.
"Then we fail," I said simply. "And if we fail, we lose everything."
No one argued. There was nothing left to say.
Over the next two days, the team trained harder than ever. The tension was
palpable, each member of the group driven by the unspoken understanding that
their survival—and the survival of everyone they cared about—depended on their
success.
But even as I pushed them to their limits, I couldn't shake the growing sense of
dread that gnawed at the edges of my mind.
Something was coming. Something none of us were prepared for.
And as the first shadows of the eclipse began to darken the sky, that feeling only
grew stronger.
The first sign came just after dusk.
I was back at the training facility, overseeing the final drills when the sky
darkened—not gradually as it does when night falls, but all at once. A heavy,
unnatural shadow spread across the horizon, swallowing the light like ink bleeding
into water.
"What the hell is going on?" Amara muttered, her usual flippancy replaced by a
sharp edge of unease.
I stepped outside, my boots crunching against the gravel. The rest of the team
followed, their faces pale in the dim light. Overhead, the moon had moved to
eclipse the sun, casting the world into an eerie twilight. The air itself seemed to
vibrate with a low, droning hum that set my teeth on edge.
"This… this isn't right," Elias said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The eclipse
wasn't supposed to start yet. It's early."
The realization hit me like a blow to the chest. "It's him," I said. "Lucian's done
something."
Before anyone could respond, a deafening crack echoed through the air, like the
sound of glass shattering on a massive scale. All eyes turned to the sky, where a
jagged line of light had appeared in the heavens, splitting the darkness like a
wound.
The line widened, peeling back to reveal a massive, ancient door wreathed in
seething black energy. Strange symbols glowed faintly along its surface, pulsing
with an ominous rhythm like the beat of a colossal heart.
"What… is that?" Idris asked, his voice trembling.
"The gate," I said grimly. "He's opened the gate."
For a moment, no one moved. The sheer magnitude of what we were witnessing
seemed to root us in place. Then the door began to creak open, a low, groaning
sound that reverberated through the air like the moan of some ancient beast
awakening from its slumber.
From the widening gap, figures began to emerge—hulking, grotesque shapes that
radiated malice. Demons. Dozens of them poured out in a chaotic flood, their
twisted forms illuminated by the sickly glow of the gate.
The first wave hit the ground with a thunderous crash, sending shockwaves
rippling through the earth. They wasted no time, spreading out in every direction
like a swarm of locusts. Screams rose in the distance as they descended on the
city of Caelum, their claws and fangs tearing through anything in their path.
"Seraphim!" Alaric's voice snapped me out of my trance. "What do we do?"
I drew my weapon, my jaw set in determination. "We fight."
Scene 3: The Eclipse and the Gate
The first sign came just after dusk.
I was back at the training facility, overseeing the final drills when the sky
darkened—not gradually as it does when night falls, but all at once. A heavy,
unnatural shadow spread across the horizon, swallowing the light like ink bleeding
into water.
"What the hell is going on?" Amara muttered, her usual flippancy replaced by a
sharp edge of unease.
I stepped outside, my boots crunching against the gravel. The rest of the team
followed, their faces pale in the dim light. Overhead, the moon had moved to
eclipse the sun, casting the world into an eerie twilight. The air itself seemed to
vibrate with a low, droning hum that set my teeth on edge.
"This… this isn't right," Elias said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The eclipse
wasn't supposed to start yet. It's early."
The realization hit me like a blow to the chest. "It's him," I said. "Lucian's done
something."
Before anyone could respond, a deafening crack echoed through the air, like the
sound of glass shattering on a massive scale. All eyes turned to the sky, where a
jagged line of light had appeared in the heavens, splitting the darkness like a
wound.
The line widened, peeling back to reveal a massive, ancient door wreathed in
seething black energy. Strange symbols glowed faintly along its surface, pulsing
with an ominous rhythm like the beat of a colossal heart.
"What… is that?" Idris asked, his voice trembling.
"The gate," I said grimly. "He's opened the gate."
For a moment, no one moved. The sheer magnitude of what we were witnessing
seemed to root us in place. Then the door began to creak open, a low, groaning
sound that reverberated through the air like the moan of some ancient beast
awakening from its slumber.
From the widening gap, figures began to emerge—hulking, grotesque shapes that
radiated malice. Demons. Dozens of them poured out in a chaotic flood, their
twisted forms illuminated by the sickly glow of the gate.
The first wave hit the ground with a thunderous crash, sending shockwaves
rippling through the earth. They wasted no time, spreading out in every direction
like a swarm of locusts. Screams rose in the distance as they descended on the
city of Caelum, their claws and fangs tearing through anything in their path.
"Seraphim!" Alaric's voice snapped me out of my trance. "What do we do?"
I drew my weapon, my jaw set in determination. "We fight."
The battle began in chaos.
The demons were relentless, their movements wild and unpredictable. Amara's
illusions helped to confuse and delay them, but the sheer number of enemies
threatened to overwhelm us. Valen struggled to keep up with the injuries, his
energy draining rapidly as he healed wound after wound.
"Seraphim!" Elias shouted, his voice cutting through the cacophony. "We can't hold
them off forever!"
"We don't have to!" I shouted back, deflecting a blow from one of the larger
demons. "Just hold the line until—"
I didn't get the chance to finish.
A sudden, searing light pierced through the darkness, blinding in its intensity. I
staggered back, shielding my eyes as the radiance grew, cutting through the chaos
like a beacon.
And then, a voice. Deep, commanding, and impossibly calm, it resonated within my
mind, speaking directly to me:
"Seraphim, my child, hold your ground. I, the Supreme God, am coming. Do not
falter."
The weight of the voice was undeniable. It wasn't just the words—it was the
overwhelming sense of power and authority behind them. There was no doubt in
my mind that this was the Supreme God himself.
I turned to the others, my voice steady despite the chaos around us. "The
Supreme God is coming. Hold the line!"
For a moment, their fear was replaced by something else—hope. They rallied,
their attacks growing fiercer as they pushed back against the encroaching tide
of demons.
And then, as the light in the sky grew brighter, I saw it: a figure descending from
the heavens, wreathed in a golden glow that banished the shadows and sent the
demons recoiling in terror.
The Supreme God had arrived.
The golden radiance grew blinding, and the figure descending from the heavens
was now fully visible—a being of unmatched presence, radiating authority and
power. The Supreme God stood above us, a manifestation of hope and divinity
amidst the chaos.
Around me, the demons hesitated, their ferocity wavering under the weight of
his presence. This was no ordinary foe; this was their antithesis, a force they
could not easily overcome.
I gripped my weapon tighter, bloodied but unyielding, and raised it high above my
head. My team was still holding their ground, battered but unbroken. For the first
time since this nightmare began, the faintest flicker of hope stirred in my chest.
The thought came unbidden, but it burned brightly in my mind, silencing all doubts:
The Supreme God is here. We will win this fight.