"So, what is the situation with our plan? So we can begin sowing," Lord Kaelen inquired, his voice clear and tinged with tyranny. Every word resonated with divine law energy, a palpable force of imposed order. His entire being was composed of swirling light-gray cosmic energy, dense and powerful. Two pitch-black eyes bore down upon those assembled below, while intricate horn-like structures spiraled from his head, resembling a crown. Behind him, a large halo shimmered, mirroring the hue of his body.
The Council convened on an immense floating platform adorned with smooth, high-quality cream-colored marble, polished to such perfection that its surface glimmered like a mirror. At the platform's edge rose 32 colossal pillars, each carved with elaborate coiled monster figures reminiscent of Corinthian designs. These pillars dwarfed mortal forms but were still mere echoes of the grand temples built for gods.
Perched atop each pillar was a god, each embodying unique divine powers manifesting in vibrant colors. (Clockwise from Lord Kaelen): Lady Lysandra; Vorlag The Silent Broker; The Arbiter Zuriel; Grand Calculus Vex; The Warden Atra; Lady Seraphina-The Veiled; The Conduit Sol; Lord Mortis-The Collector; The Herald Vox; Lady Bellum-The Strategist; The Crucible Ignis; Lord Terron-The Foundation; Lady Zephyr-The Unseen Hand; The Overseer Ocular; Lord Chronos-The Meter; Lady Lux-The Illuminator; The Culler Raze; Lord Fathom-The Deep Thinker; Lady Styx-The Binder; Lord Moros-Warden Of Doubt; Lady Vina; Lord Nexus-The Connector; Lady Aura-The Reflector; The Chancellor Aegis; Lord Temper-The Forge Master; Lady Cypher-The Cryptic; The Scrivener Lumen; Lord Tyr-The Absolute; Lady Moirai-The String Puller; The Sentinel Gate; and Lord Gloom-The Dreader. The five gods and goddesses on either side of Lord Kaelen formed the High Council, while the others served as general members.
Above them, the celestial realm shimmered in hues of pastel blue, casting a tranquil light over everything. Nearby floated a vast scrying pool—a great, circular expanse resembling water, reflecting the divine spectacle.
A divine figure broke the silence. Lord Nexus, muscular and shrouded in cosmic pink interlaced with black, faced Lord Kaelen, fingers flicking gracefully toward the mirror surface of the pool. "Everything is set. I have forged a pathway from the Middle Realm to the Lower Realm," he declared, his voice calm yet filled with confidence, eyes fixated on the shimmering vision before them. "What you see here is an intricate map of Earth—the sole planet where mortals reside."
Lord Gloom stroked his long beard, his form cloaked in cosmic shadow, a triangle-shaped halo hovering ominously behind him. "It's smaller than I imagined," he mused.
"That's an easy fix," Lady Moirai replied, her smile devoid of warmth. Draped in cosmic dark blue, her light purple hair cascaded to her hips, her diamond-patterned halo gleaming above. "Simply enlarge Earth; mortals are easily reproduced. Their short lifespans are quite tragic, though."
"That's because they're mortals, you fool!" The Scrivener Lumen burst out, her high-pitched voice cutting through the air like glass. Wrapped in radiant white light, her face remained obscured, but the aura pulsating around her was unmistakably fierce. "Honestly, how did you even join this Council?"
Lady Moirai opened her mouth to retort, but—
"Enough!" Kaelen's voice crashed down like thunder, silencing the assembly instantly. The sheer power created tremors within their forms. "Cease this petty squabbling! We are engaged in a matter of paramount importance. Save your arguments for elsewhere if you must, but not here, not now. Do not forget why we are assembled today. We wager everything on this plan to finally break free from the Creator's suffocating grasp, so that we never again live in fear of vanishing as some ancient gods once did. This is our moment—a fleeting opportunity while he is absent!"
Eons had passed since the Creator—the ultimate source of all divine existence—had gone missing. Was he slumbering to regain power? Had he perished? Or was he simply distant, far beyond these realms? The gods mulled over these questions, uncertain.
Silence draped over them, each gaze drawn back to the pool. Some found amusement in the portrayal of Earth.
"I can't wait to play with them," Lady Zephyr cooed, clasping her hands with innocent delight. Her childlike form embodied sweetness, yet concealed darker intentions beneath her fluffy pink dress and angelic demeanor. The soft rays of her halo sparkled in agreement. "With monsters from the Middle Realm unleashing chaos, many will perish. They will ultimately pray to the heavens—and that's when we swoop in as their saviors! They will worship us willingly."
Laughter erupted among the gods, unfamiliar energy flowing freely around them, bubbling with vitality.
"Exactly," boomed Lord Temper, his laughter prominent. He resembled a sturdy dwarf with a thick, fiery red beard, embodying the same blazing energy coursing within him. He puffed on a metal pipe cigar, smoke swirling about him. "We provide weapons and tools, allowing them to believe in us... Mortals are simple creatures—like adopting stray dogs. Show kindness, and they will see you as a god, loyal to the point of sacrificing their lives for you."
Kaelen turned his attention to Lady Styx, a graceful goddess whose slender arms beckoned. "Have you completed the task I assigned to you? Can I see it now?"
Emerging from her elegant hand, a glowing rainbow box appeared, precisely 7x7x7 inches, adorned with ancient rune symbols engraved across its surface. "Indeed, Lord Kaelen. I call it the Aethelred System. It will awaken the mortals, granting them stronger bodies and extended lifespans. It allows constant monitoring—once stable, we'll observe every moment of their lives. For now, awakening them is our top priority."
Applause erupted, praises flooding the atmosphere as they celebrated Lady Styx's accomplishment.
"What's troubling you, Lady Lux?" queried Lord Moros, the Warden of Doubt. His form exuded transparency, stars twinkling like diamonds across his body. Only faint outlines defined his facial features, drawing attention to his penetrating gaze.
Lady Lux's expression was one of disgust, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don't use that irritating tone with me. It sickens me. I'm nothing like those here poisoned by your words." She kept her eyes trained on the mirror, unyielding. An hourglass figure clad in a silk gown accentuated her mesmerizing beauty; cascading waves of blue-white hair framed her face, while her aura glowed in cosmic light pink. "Lord Kaelen."
"Yes, Lady Lux. Any insight you'd like to share? You've been quiet in your corner."
"If a pathway is opened from the Middle Realm to the Lower Realm, hordes of monsters will rush in alongside citizens from the Middle Realm. The untouched mortals, lacking any outside influence, will be overwhelmed. Even with the Aethelred System awakening and empowering them, they'll still likely become feral beasts, devouring humans, turning our farm into ruin before it even begins. Furthermore, the energy harvested from 'revived' mortals won't remain pure. The 'revival' itself taints the gathered power. We must restrain the invaders from the Middle Realm—not solely to preserve the plan but to foster sustainable harvesting and manage the division of mortals among ourselves effectively."
An appreciative murmur spread through the group, respect evident in some expressions, while others bore frowns at their own oversight. Lady Zephyr crossed her arms, displeasure etched into her features.
"Excellent point, Lady Lux. Lord Mortis, amend this immediately," Kaelen commanded.
"Yes, Lord Kaelen. In accordance with Lady Lux's vital insight, I have instructed the Middle Realm beings regarding a revised, staged invasion plan. Powerful restraining magic has been cast, securing their cooperation. They will assist us in dividing the mortals according to our needs and their progress," answered Lord Mortis. Muscular and imposing, he lacked a shirt, revealing a formidable physique; a thin shroud of dirty white cloud hugged his lower half, while he gripped a gold staff. His double-lined halo glittered above him.
"However, I harbor concerns about the Aethelred system," Lady Cypher chimed, worry evident on her angelic, beautiful face. Despite her seemingly kind nature, her form was swaddled in runes she'd invented, which obscured her vision from prying eyes. Her veil hung delicately over her head, adding an element of mystery. "Its complexity might backfire. It could empower mortals to rise against us."
"It won't happen," Kaelen assured confidently. "Why? Because they are merely mortals. Even if they attain peak capabilities, they remain just that—mortals. They cannot exceed our power."
Silence fell again, but an intoxicating wave of excitement rippled among them, eager to execute the plan while feeling reluctant to show such enthusiasm in Kaelen's presence.
Uragast, once a member of the Council but now banished, knew the location of this secret gathering. Intent on reclaiming his place among them, he targeted Sentinel Gate—the guardian of access to this plane.
Just as Sentinel Gate prepared to sound a warning, "Intr…"—the cry abruptly transformed into a guttural scream, "In-arrgggh!"
Startled gasps echoed throughout the chamber as a gaping hole marred Sentinel Gate's abdomen, bright white blood spilling forth from its lips.
"Someone is manipulating the gates of the realms!" Kaelen proclaimed, tension surging. His divine senses flared, assessing their perilous situation.
Chancellor Aegis swiftly conjured a protective shield enveloping the entire platform. Faced with uncertainty, the Council members braced themselves for impending conflict, anxious that their plans may already be compromised.
Suddenly, Uragast descended from the skies, adopting his majestic Archangel-like form. Muscled and radiating potent divine energy, he stood resolute, a mane of shoulder-length, curling hair framing his determined gaze. Golden wings flared wide behind him, casting brilliant illumination. Clad in shining armor that gleamed under the ethereal light, he wielded a sword ablaze with golden fire. With swift authority, he cleaved through Aegis's shield, creating a deep cut that unraveled the barrier completely.
As he surveyed the assembly before him, his gaze landed squarely on Vina—her presence igniting memories and emotions from the past.
(Transition to Memory/Flashback)
Their last encounter had been a harsh exchange of fervent words, each sentence striking deeply.
Vina's voice had sliced through the air, filled with frustration and disappointment: "That's what I detest about you! You're too soft, too kind-hearted. Lowly gods offend you, yet you let it slide. Your birthright went to your half-brother while you did nothing! You serve our father without question! What if one day we vanish without a trace? And what of our offspring? What will become of them? What of us? Will you simply surrender?!"
Uragast countered, his voice rising in defiance: "You fear vanishing? Our existence is borrowed from the Creator! Were he to reclaim it, there's nothing we could do. That is his right! Everything we possess is due to him. And for what—your desire to abandon me? Is there someone else in your heart?"
Silence swallowed her response; Vina stared, unyielding. When she finally spoke, her icy finality chilled his heart: "Meet me at our usual spot only when you have truly changed." Abruptly, she turned and walked away.
(Return to Uragast's thoughts/Memory)
Reflecting upon their argument, Uragast felt an aching pang. He loved Vina fiercely, struggling against the idea of her choosing another; was he simply paranoid? Perhaps he needed to change if he wished to build a future with her. A gift awaited her—Aethel-Caris, a world of exquisite beauty he meticulously crafted, drawing inspiration from precious memories shared together.
Crimson hope surged within as he approached their meeting spot, only to find her absence an agonizing void. Betrayal clawed at his heart when he learned she'd replaced him on the Council, blind to the synonymous greed that pulled her away, shackling her newfound ambition with old ideals.
(Return to the Present Council Chamber)
Now, their gazes locked, pain mingling with cold resentment etched on her beautiful face. Some vestige of life still lingered within her, but it was overshadowed by darkness.
I hope you don't regret your choice.
Determined resilience shone through his visage as he shifted focus from Vina to the angry faces surrounding him. Conflict was about to erupt; he needed to prepare.
Uragast remained poised, floating above, surveying the assembly of 32 gods. Just seeing them quiver beneath his gaze afforded him some confidence. A sly smile escaped his lips, further igniting the wrath of those he looked down upon. Yet his fixation sharpened upon the ancient, black box sitting on the pedestal. He understood its purpose clearly.
His voice cut through the tension; calm yet filled with explosive power, it resounded in the chamber, "Look at you—all of you, hiding here, guarded by your pets. Cowardice is the posture you've adopted! And that very cowardice fuels my righteous anger! You seek to turn the mortal world into a mere means to your ends! Mortals are no toys. They are not playthings for your amusement! Do you fathom the Creator's design? The Three Realms exist apart for a reason—each to govern its domain! Violating that sacred order will have consequences!"
His gaze fixed directly on Kaelen. "You choose the path of cowardice. Do you truly wish to know why I was expelled from your noble 'Council'? Not principle nor law governed it—it was simple fear! You all recognized my strength!"
Across the expanse, tension swelled within the Council as Uragast's barbed words pierced through their arrogance.
"Presumptuous fool!" Kaelen bellowed, rage igniting in his black eyes. Without hesitation, he hurled a javelin comprised solely of divine power toward Uragast. But the blow was effortlessly deflected by the Archangel's sword, dispelling the attack.
Before the echoes of the parry faded, Kaelen vanished and materialized directly before Uragast, spear in hand. Purifying Divine Law energy crystallized around it; with a horizontal slash, he sought to split Uragast in two. The strike tore through space itself, a terrifying sound resonating across the nexus. Yet, Uragast responded. His blazing sword met the horrific arc of the spear with surprising ease, countering with skill born from years of combat training. Their divine powers collided, sending sparks erupting in a blinding explosion. A shockwave ripped through the fabric of reality, trembling the very dimension housing their confrontation.
In a whirlwind of energy, strikes flew back and forth between Uragast and Kaelen, as the specter of violence unfolded. Uragast pressed forward, intent on establishing his supremacy, eager for the Council to witness Kaelen's inferiority.
Suddenly, an arrow streaked through the chaos like a bolt of destiny, interrupting Uragast's focus and piercing the turbulence. Recognition lit his mind—an unmistakable arc and divine signature. Vina. Her arrow. His heart ached, recalling the bow he'd designed and crafted for her—a gift of love.
In that fleeting moment of emotional distraction, Kaelen seized his chance, exploiting Uragast's vulnerability. The spear struck true, plunging into the Archangel's shoulder, an eruption of Divine Law energy searing through him. A force exploded from the wound, hurling Uragast violently across the platform until he crashed against a distant celestial pillar with bone-rattling impact.
Before he could recover, Kaelen lunged forward, spear lifted for a finishing blow. Yet a translucent shield of divine energy sprang into existence just in time, protecting Uragast from the strike. Through its ethereal surface emerged six allies—Elara, Siris, Anya, Lyra, Faelan, and Rhys.
Kaelen's countenance soured at the arrival of this unexpected support, forcing him to retreat, wary of potential threats.
Among the newcomers, Rhys, Master of Veils, exchanged troubled glances with Lord Ocular, who stepped forward from his pillar. "You chose this side, brother. Make sure you do not come to regret it," Ocular warned, his tone cool and detached before stepping back into position, indicating he wouldn't engage in conflict against his brother.
As battle ignited across the platform, shifts in momentum became palpable, opposing forces colliding violently. Elara, the Shield of Resilience, faced the relentless fire power of The Crucible Ignis, her radiant barrier absorbing heavy blows threatening to shatter her form. Cracks began to etch across the barrier, like wounded flesh, under his persistent onslaught.
Siris, the Embodiment of Principle, stood unfaltering against Lord Malakor—a champion of twisted authority whose corrupting force threatened to overwhelm him. Anya, Bearer of Dawn, summoned waves of life-giving light, pushing back the shadows sewn by Lady Seraphina, a master of secrets whose veils obscured truth. Lyra, the Singer of Souls, attempted to weave a melody of cosmic harmony, confronting the absolute proclamations of The Herald Vox. Meanwhile, Faelan, Master of Elements, clashed against the formidable strength of Lord Terron, whose anchoring essence risked rooting him to inertia.
Even if wounded, Uragast remained formidable. Two lesser gods, hoping for glory against him, confronted him, emboldened perhaps by his injury or spurred by orders. Yet through brutal precision, Uragast dispatched them with swift, devastating strikes, effortlessly afflicting grievous wounds.
The Council gods observing from their pillars hesitated, knowing direct combat may churn unpredictable chaos within their grand strategy, fearful of ruining everything they had envisioned.
Seeing the tide of battle shift and sensing their plans unraveling before unforeseen variables, Lady Styx's expression morphed into cold calculation. Without uttering a word, she reached for the ancient black box resting on its altar. As she invoked her power, a shimmering gateway wrenched open, prepared to receive their critical key. In an instant, Uragast, focused solely on the portal's emergence, surged forward, channeling all his strength into reaching it.
But Kaelen remained vigilant. Having sensed Uragast's desperation, he intercepted with deadly speed. Directing his spear with ruthless efficiency, it plunged cruelly into Uragast's side, delivering a critical blow amidst the struggle for the Box.
Tragically, as the Aethelred Box slipped into the gateway and disappeared, the mission accomplished, Uragast reeled from his fresh wound—a burning void gaping within him. He collapsed onto the cold surface of the platform, flickering with fading light.
From above, Kaelen's chilling laugh resonated triumphantly throughout the chamber—victory tasted sweet upon the still air.
Through waves of excruciating pain, Uragast glanced upon chaos unfolding. Elara, Siris, Anya, Lyra, Faelan, Rhys—their forms crumbled under relentless assault by the Council's might. Defeat engulfed the battlefield, a sight heavier than any physical wound. Despair washed over him, extinguishing the fragile flame of hope nestled within his heart. He felt he had failed them all; failure weighed like a mountain.
For a fleeting instant, a memory lanced through him—the soft warmth of sunlight bathed upon his skin, unburdened laughter echoing from a verdant village green. The brightness felt a bitter contrast against the chill beneath him, amplifying the dull ache of loss. He had failed those fleeting, precious lives he sought to protect. Darkness engulfed him, leaving him to wonder if anyone remained to help him now.
A profound weakness settled over him—thicker than any physical blow. His limbs grew unresponsive; what once gleamed within dimmed with each passing heartbeat. The weight of failure burdened him, pinning him mercilessly against the cold marble floor.