[Time until the Great War: 35 Years]
The river Ganga was cold before dawn, a ribbon of silver mist winding through the mortal realm. The air was silent, save for the rapid, terrified breathing of a young princess named Kuni.
She was barely sixteen. Trembling, she held her hands out to the eastern horizon, reciting a mantra she had found in an ancient, forbidden sage's scroll. It was supposed to be a test. A curiosity.
[System Alert: Divine Invocation Triggered.]
[Target: Solaris, The High Sun God.]
The sky didn't just brighten; it ripped open.
The temperature on the riverbank spiked by fifty degrees in a second. The water hissed, turning to steam. Kunishielded her eyes as a being of pure, blinding fusion descended. He was terrifyingly beautiful, wearing armor that seemed woven from supernova remnants.
"YOU HAVE CALLED. I HAVE ANSWERED." His voice was the sound of a solar flare. "THE MANTRA DEMANDS A SON BORN OF MY ESSENCE."
"No," Kuni whispered, shrinking back. "I... I was just testing it. I'm unmarried! A child would ruin me!"
The deity paused. Gods did not understand human shame. "THE PACT IS SEALED. RECEIVE MY GIFT."
He reached out a hand that glowed like molten gold. A beam of light struck Kuni's abdomen. There was no pain, only an overwhelming warmth, and then—
A baby lay on the silk shawl at her feet.
He was not a normal infant. He didn't cry. He looked up at the fading deity with eyes that already held too much intelligence.
But the most striking thing was his skin. It wasn't soft flesh. Fused to his tiny chest was a breastplate of shimmering, golden celestial metal. Attached to his earlobes were heavy, ornate earrings that pulsed with faint solar energy.
[Unique Trait Acquired: 'The Solar Mantle' (Rank: Divine – Indestructible)]
[Unique Trait Acquired: 'Earrings of Endless Mana' (Rank: Divine)]
The God vanished, leaving a terrified teenage girl with a demigod baby that would destroy her reputation.
Kuni looked at the child. He was magnificent. He was hers. But fear was a stronger motivator than love.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed, placing the radiating infant into a woven basket she had hastily lined with soft cotton. "Forgive me. Please, someone, forgive me."
She pushed the basket into the current of the Ganga.
The baby, Kiran, watched his mother shrink into the distance. He felt the cold water seeping through the wicker, contrasted by the burning heat of the armor fused to his skin. Even then, in his first hour of life, he understood the fundamental truth that would define his existence.
He was powerful. He was divine. And he was utterly unwanted.