The skies of Heaven burned crimson.
Not from the glow of dawn — but from wrath.
At the heart of the Celestial Domain, the vast palace of light stood trembling under divine fury. Seraphs knelt in rows that stretched for miles, silent as their Emperor's rage echoed across the radiant halls.
Upon a throne forged from pure divinity sat Emperor Seraphion, the Supreme God-King of Heaven. His twelve wings shimmered with every hue of holy fire, yet his eyes burned darker than a dying sun.
A lone messenger angel knelt before him, trembling.
"My lord… Archseraph Valion has fallen."
The words hung heavy in the air.
For a moment, nothing.
Then — the sound of shattering crystal.
Seraphion's grip crushed the armrest of his throne, light spilling like blood. The entire palace quaked as his voice thundered:
"Valion… fallen? To a mortal?!"
The messenger's head remained bowed, wings shaking.
"Y-yes, my lord. Witnesses say the mortal's power… was divine. He wielded flames that rivaled the sun itself. The Celestial Choir was—"
A blinding flash.
The angel's body turned to ash before the sentence could end.
Silence followed.
All present dared not even breathe.
Then, slowly, Seraphion rose from his throne.
"So the Balance has shifted."
The Emperor extended his hand, summoning a vast mirror of light. Within it appeared images — the mortal world, fractured and scarred. At its center, the Northern Territory — Arden's domain — burned bright like a defiant star against Heaven's shadow.
"Arden of the North," Seraphion whispered, his voice echoing like thunder through eternity. "You have slain one of my sons."
He turned to his gathered Seraphs — the Twelve Thrones of Heaven.
"Hear my decree."
The Twelve Seraphs knelt, their radiance dimming under the Emperor's will.
"From this day forth," Seraphion declared, "the mortal realm is condemned. The Gates of Rebirth shall be sealed. No soul shall reincarnate. No prayer shall be heard. No divine mercy shall touch their lands."
His voice grew louder, shaking even the stars.
"We will descend. We will burn their kingdoms. We will remind them what it means to defy the divine."
One Seraph, cloaked in silver, dared to speak.
"My lord… to annihilate the mortal realm—would that not unbalance Creation itself?"
Seraphion's gaze turned upon him — calm, almost gentle.
"Balance is a myth for the weak. There is only obedience… or oblivion."
He raised his hand — and the silver Seraph vanished, erased from existence.
"The decree is absolute. Prepare the Heavenly Armies."
Far below, in the outer reaches of Heaven — where broken wings and forgotten prayers drifted like dust — a different power stirred.
Within a temple long abandoned, cloaked figures gathered around a dying flame.
One of them, her wings blackened and torn, spoke softly.
"Valion is dead. The Emperor's wrath will fall upon the mortals soon."
Another figure, face hidden by shadow, replied, "Then we must act before Heaven destroys everything. The prophecy cannot be ignored any longer."
The first nodded. "You mean… the Balance Chosen?"
"Yes. The mortal who wields both divine and worldly Qi — Arden of the North."
They fell silent.
At last, the leader — a tall woman whose once-white wings were streaked with gold and shadow — spoke firmly.
"Then we will find him. Before the Emperor does."
The flame before them flickered — and for a moment, it glowed the same gold as Arden's fire.
"May the Balance guide us."
In the cold dawn of the North, Arden awoke to pain.
His body was bandaged and wrapped in divine cloth, glowing faintly from Celestia's healing magic. His armor lay shattered beside the bed, Heavenbreaker resting quietly against the wall.
Celestia sat nearby, exhausted, her eyes closed in meditation. When she sensed his awakening, she stirred.
"You should rest more," she said softly. "You nearly burned your soul last time."
Arden groaned, forcing himself to sit. "Rest later. What's the damage?"
"Half of the outer wall's gone. Valion's army was annihilated, but we lost nearly a third of our soldiers. The people are shaken."
He nodded grimly. "Expected."
Celestia hesitated. "There's more. I… felt something. Heaven's power is shifting. The Emperor's decree has already been made."
Arden's gaze hardened. "A purge?"
She nodded. "Yes. They're coming — not just angels this time. The Seraph Thrones themselves."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The air was heavy, as though even the world held its breath.
Finally, Arden stood, wincing as divine light flickered along his veins.
"Then we prepare."
Celestia frowned. "For war?"
"No," he said quietly, eyes blazing like the dawn. "For revolution."
Later that night, in the war chamber of Wolf Fang Citadel, the council gathered. Generals, mages, and chieftains of every race listened as Arden spoke.
"Heaven thinks mortals are beneath them. They claim our lives, our deaths, our very souls. But we've proved them wrong once — we'll do it again."
He placed his hand on the table — and from it, a map of divine energy appeared, showing the positions of celestial gates across the continent.
"We strike before they descend. Destroy the gates. Sever their path to our world."
Gasps filled the room. Even Celestia's eyes widened.
"You mean to wage war against Heaven itself?" she asked softly.
Arden's expression was calm — too calm.
"No. I mean to end it."
The fire in his eyes burned brighter than the stars above.