"Even gods weep for the worlds they cannot save."
The stars were dying.
Aeliana stood at the edge of her collapsing universe, the last beacon of a cosmos crumbling into dust. She was not merely a goddess; she was the universe incarnate. Every heartbeat of every living soul, every pulse of light, every dying sun reverberated through her veins. Uncountable lives, worlds, and civilizations on the verge of being unmade—all tied to her fate .
Behind her, the great citadel of the gods lay in ruin. Its towers, once radiant with the songs of creation, sagged like melted candles, blackened ash drifting like snow through the shattered halls. Ghostly echoes of war twisted through the void, whispers of battles that had already consumed everything.
She felt it all, every fragment of existence. Every glimmer of hope and despair, every whisper of love and loss. She was the Vessel. She carried not only power but the life of her universe within her being — the universe core pulsing at the center of her chest like a fragile, trembling heartbeat.
Cradled in her arms, a child stirred. Tiny fingers brushed against the glowing sigil etched into her skin — the mark of the universe core. Its pulse quivered, hesitant, fragile, knowing its protector's strength was about to fail. The child's breath was soft, delicate, yet it carried the weight of countless worlds yet unborn.
Above, the heavens had torn open. Reality itself split into jagged fractures, revealing a force beyond comprehension. Kael'thar, the God of Dominion, hung suspended in the void, draped in gold twisted into jagged thorns. Once her ally, once her brother in council, now a predator hungering for the heart of her universe.
His eyes burned with stolen stars. The heat of his gaze seared through her very soul. He had come to consume the universe core, to ascend into true Immortality — not merely as a god, but as something that would outlast existence itself.
She had fought to stop him. So had Athrax, the God of War, her beloved. Together, they had held the line… until he fell. His warmth, courage, and love lingered at the edges of her mind, fading like embers in a dying fire. Every memory, every stolen smile, every quiet moment shared in the shadow of battles passed—all remained, yet unreachable, a constant ache.
Now, only she remained.
Aeliana's voice trembled as she looked down at the child. "You should not have been born into this… yet perhaps, you are the hope that survives it."
Her feet carried her toward the shattered altar at the citadel's heart. The universe core pulsed beneath her hands, a wounded star struggling to maintain its form. Its song filled her mind — a melody older than time itself — calling to her in one final plea. She knelt, pressing her hands to the core. Ancient runes etched into her skin flared with the last embers of her power, spiraling outward like rivers of light flowing through fractured reality.
"I return myself," she whispered. "So that life may endure."
A wave of light erupted from her being, cascading into her son. Her divine essence flowed into him — not merely power, but memories, thoughts, and her eternal love. Every fragment of her soul, every choice, every regret and hope, every battle she had ever fought, infused him. Time seemed to stretch and bend as flashes of the boy's future danced before her: standing atop the ruins of the old pantheon, hands soaked in the blood of betrayers, eyes blazing with power yet shadowed by grief. A storm of war and hope rolled through her visions, showing the path he would one day tread.
Tears streamed down her face, though her expression remained calm. Her legs weakened; her body flickered like a candle struggling against the wind. And yet, she smiled. It was done. The universe core had accepted him.
Then, the air behind her trembled. A voice, vast and cold as the void, cut through the chaos.
"You always were sentimental, Aeliana."
Kael'thar stepped through the broken doorway. Taller than any mortal could comprehend, each movement deliberate, predatory, the weight of countless worlds resting in his shadow. His eyes burned with the light of stolen stars, a gaze that seared through the remnants of creation itself.
"You cannot stop me," he said. "Now the child belongs to me. Give him, and I may allow your soul to fade with dignity."
She rose, frail yet unyielding, shielding the boy with her body. "He is not yours. He is not a weapon. He is the vessel now."
Kael'thar's lips twisted into a cruel snarl. "A vessel, yes. But will he thank you for it? For his birth into a dying universe? It's best I consume him now, he will not suffer."
She did not answer. She reached for the core once more, whispering the invocation of her kind. Runes spiraled outward, carving a halo of protection into the collapsing heavens. Light roared, blue-white and golden, tendrils of energy entwining mother and child. Reality screamed in defiance.
The child vanished. The universe core responded, scattering him across space-time to a distant, untouched planet — a world of blue oceans and nascent life, called Aqua. His arrival ignited storms, winds, and strange, subtle energies, hinting at powers yet dormant, waiting for the spark of awakening.
Kael'thar surged forward, but the glyphs blazed with authority drawn from creation itself. An invisible barrier formed in an instant, freezing the broken universe in suspended death and rebirth.
Aeliana collapsed to her knees. Her essence unraveled into ribbons of light streaming into the void. She whispered a final blessing. "Grow strong… forgive what you must… but never forget who you are."
Her body dissolved into stardust, her soul leaving a single spark embedded into the universe core — a seed that would one day awaken as a a guide and voice to her child.
Far away, on a planet called Aqua, a storm raged. A baby lay amidst fractured stone and soft grass, radiant energy flickering beneath his skin. He did not cry. He opened his eyes, and even the wind seemed to bow in reverence.
The universe had chosen a new vessel.
Yet in the calm of the distant world, subtle signs whispered of what had been lost: stars that flickered unnaturally in the night, faint pulses of light tracing the baby's steps, winds that carried echoes of a forgotten war. The planet itself seemed to breathe differently, aware that something extraordinary had arrived. And though the child did not yet know, his destiny had already begun to stir, woven into the very fabric of the universe.
The first whisper of a distant voice, though far, dormant, and faint, had been planted in that spark — the echo of Aeliana's love, her hope, and her unyielding will. A seed that would one day awaken, shaping the boy into a force that could challenge gods, restore a shattered universe, and decide the fate of all creation.
And so, as the storm on Aqua subsided into a quiet drizzle of luminescent rain, the universe waited.
Waiting for the last light to rise.