"Let them raise their banners.
Let them sing of flame and storm.
But I am the weight beneath their feet,
the pull they cannot flee.
Steel will shatter, spells will fade—
but gravity is eternal.
It does not boast.
It does not break.
It simply brings all things to my knees.
I do not rise.
I endure.
I draw them in.
I let them climb…
so they fall harder.
When fear claws at the edge of thought,
when doubt presses in—
I press back.
I remember:
I am the center.
I am the axis.
I am the force they cannot see,
but cannot escape.
And when this war ends,
they will not remember my fury.
They will remember the silence,
just before they bowed."
Seraphiel whispered to himself as he sat cross-legged in the Null Chamber—a circular room within Master Zuga's premises. This was the mantra he had always murmured in solitude before every battle—not to soothe his mind, but to steel his resolve and remind himself who he was: the axis.
He slowly got up, eyes still closed, and extended his hand. Taking small, routine breaths, he reopened his eyes. Then he spoke, his voice firm yet carrying a quiet authority.
"Aximo."
Immediately, the stones, brooms, buckets, and other scattered objects on the floor began to vibrate. Slowly, they rose from the floor and started floating—the gravity of the room had been suppressed. Seraphiel had activated his domain: Aximo Realm.
Unlike the outside world, where he could manipulate existing gravity, inside the Aximo Realm, Seraphiel could create his own gravity—controlling its strength and direction. Thus, he could manipulate the gravity of all objects, including living beings, within his domain.
"It's been ages since I was forced to use Aximo Realm on anyone." His gaze landed on a floating metallic bucket opposite him. "Let's see."
He extended his right hand toward the bucket, and it immediately began to crush mid-air. He continued crushing it until it shrank to the size of a plate.
"There you go." He released his grip and lowered his hand. "But even this domain would likely not be enough to defeat—let alone fight—someone of the level of the Celestial Supreme or Prince Zain."
He extended his hand once more, his eyes now glowing silver.
"Cygnas."
For a moment, silence. Then a small swirling hole began to form—a black hole. It started pulling all the stones and floating objects into it. But before the crushed bucket was drawn in, an idea sparked in Seraphiel's mind. He extended his hand again, forming two more black holes that surrounded the bucket in a triangle. Each hole's gravity was equal, pulling the crushed bucket with the same force. In the end, the bucket was torn into pieces.
At the sight of the torn fragments, a smile of satisfaction spread across Seraphiel's face. He slowly walked toward them, his eyes flickering with amusement. He touched the scattered pieces.
"If things do escalate, I'll have to resort to this." He picked up a few fragments and crushed them in his palm. "No matter what, I'll not let anyone harm this realm."
Then, a couple of voices from the other side of the door caught his attention.
"Atisen, we should not be here," said a voice laced with nervousness. "Master will be upset."
"Listen, Felmod, do you want to spend the entire day doing chores?"
"Of course not, but we shouldn't leave all the work to your brother."
"He's the oldest among us, Felmod, so let him do it. In the meantime, let's hide in here. When it's almost noon, we'll come out."
Then came a loud bang on the door.
"Damn, this door won't open."
Seraphiel remained still, staring at the door, his brow furrowed.
Then the door creaked open with a loud thud, revealing Atisen and Felmod. The moment they stepped into the room, they began to float.
"Whoa!" Atisen exclaimed, arms and legs flailing mid-air.
Meanwhile, Felmod's nervousness was clear as he tried to reach the ground with his arm—to no avail.
With a simple gesture, Seraphiel restored gravity in the room, and the two boys hit the ground.
"My back," Atisen grumbled, lying flat. "Felmod, are you okay?"
"I think so," Felmod replied, his voice hollow. "I told you we should not have entered this room."
Seraphiel stood at a distance, his expression unreadable as he observed the boys.
Atisen slowly sat up and exhaled. "Well, that was fun." He extended his hand to Felmod, who was still lying on the floor. "Come on, get up."
Felmod slowly reached out, and Atisen helped him sit.
"What are you doing here?" Seraphiel's voice boomed across the room.
The boys hadn't even realized he was present. Felmod stiffened as a chill ran down his spine, while Atisen took a shaky breath and turned toward Seraphiel.
"Oh, it's you." He grabbed Felmod's hand. "Hey, stand up." He gestured toward Seraphiel. "It's just the visitor who's here."
As Felmod stood, he turned to face Seraphiel, who remained motionless, arms folded.
"Oh—it's High Lord Seraphiel," Felmod said in a low voice. "I thought it was Master."
"Yeah, it's just him."
"Atisen, show some respect."
"What did I say wrong?"
Felmod lowered his head as Seraphiel began walking toward them, his expression still unreadable.
"What are you two doing here?" Seraphiel asked as he moved. "Didn't Master Zuga tell you I was training in here?"
Felmod's voice trembled. "My apologies, High Lord. We didn't know you were here."
Atisen glanced at Felmod, his face a mix of confusion and concern. Then he turned to Seraphiel, who was now standing directly before them.
"Hey, listen." Atisen stepped between Seraphiel and Felmod, extending his arms as if shielding his friend. "This isn't my friend's fault."
"Then is it yours?"
"Ah… I wouldn't say that either. As Felmod already told you, we had no clue you were here."
Seraphiel looked down at Atisen. The boy stood firm—his face not showing an ounce of fear despite their clear difference in power. At the sight of this, a faint smile played on Seraphiel's lips.