The series of revelations had left Elios in a state of shock—so much so that he decided to sit down on the ruined floor of the ancient temple, trying to process everything that had been thrust into his mind.
As he did, the shattered, blood-red moon slowly disappeared beyond the horizon. Yet the sky—fractured as if reality itself had cracked—remained unchanged, unmoving despite the passage of time.
The sun rose, its brilliant light dimmed by the crimson hue that now blanketed the world. The apocalypse had twisted the very essence of existence, and at times, it felt as though the world itself was weeping. Other times, it seemed to be fighting back, resisting the relentless horde of sinful abominations that had ravaged it.
Of all the changes, the most striking was the color of the sky. Something had shifted within space itself—some unknown force had altered the scattering of particles, stripping the sky of its familiar blue and staining it red.
As Elios gazed upon that blood-red expanse, regret and remorse filled his heart.
"So, all those things written in the sacred texts... the ancient world described by the gods... it was true all along?"
His voice held a quiet melancholy as he whispered into the wind.
"The other priests and I thought it was just myth. But if that were the case... would any of this be happening?"
A bitter irony twisted within him.
"In some strange way, I can't help but feel responsible. At the same time... I'm glad it's true. I was the one who brought the Dragon Path back into this world. But I also unleashed the Path of Sin."
His thoughts drifted—memories of childhood surfaced, moments of warmth now long gone. He recalled sitting in this very temple, reading books with his parents, unaware of the tragedies yet to come.
"It's like the stories of those ancient Greek heroes... No matter how many great deeds they accomplish, they always have a fatal flaw."
Elios stood, shifting his gaze to the ruins of the Obsidian Temple. The once-grand structure now lay in ruins, its former glory reduced to scattered rubble.
His voice turned resolute.
His eyes shone—not with despair, but with something new.
"I'm done crying. I've shed my tears long enough."
"There's no point in mourning what has already been lost. What's done is done. From this point forward, I will make things right. I don't need to be some selfless hero trying to save the world."
His voice rose—not just behind a few words, but behind all of them.
Every emotion he had felt over these recent days culminated into this single moment—this single speech, spoken not for anyone else, but for himself.
"I just need to do things right."
"A hero always gets himself killed. I won't allow that. I cannot die—not now, not ever."
"In the end, I won't be a hero. I will be a guide, putting others on the right path. That is who I will be."
He lifted his head to the sky, raising his voice—his conviction—to the world itself.
"Do you hear that, world? That's my goal! My conviction! And don't you dare try to stop me!"
Elios' soft, gentle features—features once admired, called handsome, kind-hearted, sincere—had changed.
Blood and dirt smeared his face. His expression was weary. His body was exhausted.
But his golden eyes—radiant as they once were when he worshiped the gods—held the same resilience.
A burning fire.
A shining defiance.
His proclamation echoed through the ruins.
And the world responded back.
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[Ascender Elios, are you ready for your first trial?]