The heavens bled gold, the earth wept shadow—and in the rift between, the war of realms began.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate. Abyssforged beasts, massive and grotesque, clashed with celestial beings, their silver armor and wings shining even as they tore at the creatures of the abyss. Each strike between these forces sent shockwaves that warped the very fabric of reality, cracks appearing in the sky and the ground beneath. The air was thick with divine and abyssal energy, making the atmosphere heavy with tension, and the stench of blood, celestial and otherwise, tainted the very winds.
And yet, at the eye of this storm of war and destruction, there was Kael—still. Stillness. Like a cold predator watching the carnage unfold. His eyes gleamed with precision, every movement of his mind calculating, maneuvering the battlefield from the shadows without ever needing to raise a hand. He did not need to fight. Not yet.
His mind was sharper than any weapon forged in this or any realm.
Around him, his allies moved like shadows—Lilith, his right hand, a tempest of destruction and beauty. She wove through the divine ranks, her form a flash of black wings and corrupted starlight. Every strike she made sent ripples through the angelic forces, unraveling their formations. Their cohesion faltered in the wake of her elegance and carnage. The Seraphs hesitated as she passed, their once immaculate armor now sullied by the darkness she brought with her.
Where she walked, stars dimmed.
And then—
A second divine trumpet rang out.
Not from above.
But from within the empire itself.
Kael's eyes shifted toward the horizon. There, not in the sky, but in the very fabric of reality itself—cracks began to form. A bleeding light began to burst forth—not pure, not holy, but tainted, corrupted. A divine flare twisted by something unholy. Something old. Something broken.
Kael's lips curled into a subtle smile.
"So, he finally crawls out," he murmured, his voice cold as the winds swirling around him.
The ground trembled as the rift widened, the twisted light growing brighter. From it stepped a figure—a man encased in armor, once radiant, now charred and cracked. The divine sword in his hand was no longer perfect, shattered, yet glowing with unstable power—its very presence warping the air around it.
Lucian.
But no longer the man he had once been.
The man who had once stood against Kael as a hero, now a twisted parody of everything he had been. His eyes burned with a violent crimson, and his skin was marked with abyssal runes, glowing faintly beneath the tattered remnants of celestial grace. His form was a grotesque fusion—a thing of both divine light and abyssal corruption, a contradiction made flesh.
He was something… unnatural.
And vengeful.
"I see you, Kael," Lucian growled, his voice jagged, torn—echoing with an alien presence that wasn't his own.
Kael tilted his head, his expression unreadable, yet tinged with amusement. "Still wearing the armor of a dead cause?"
Lucian's gaze darkened, his features twisting in rage. He didn't respond with words—he responded with action. He surged forward faster than any mortal could hope to move, the air around him warping as he shot forward, his divine sword coming down like a falling star—
—and met nothing.
Kael had already moved. A shadow flitted across the battlefield, and he stood behind Lucian, fingers grazing the back of his corrupted armor. It was as if time had not passed at all. Lucian's eyes widened in confusion, but before he could react, Kael's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"You're faster," Kael murmured, his tone cold and calculating. "But not smarter."
Lucian turned in fury, his demonic blade howling through the air as he lashed out. A pulse of divine-abyssal energy erupted from him, an explosion of raw, destructive force that sent everything within its radius into chaos. Stone spires shattered like glass, and the very ground cracked beneath its weight, sending shockwaves that knocked even the Abyssforged to their knees. The blast sent Lilith skidding back momentarily, pausing as she regained her balance.
But Kael… Kael stood unfazed.
His black flame cloak rippled, undisturbed by the chaos around him. He emerged from the dust, completely unharmed, his smile widening. It was the smile of a man who knew he was in control, the smile of a conqueror.
"I see the Emperor used you as his final pawn," Kael said, brushing a speck of soot from his shoulder. His voice was laced with mockery. "How poetic. You were once their blade. Now you're their curse."
Lucian's chest heaved, his fury spilling out in a scream that rang with pain. "You destroyed everything—Elyndra, the people, the Empire—"
Kael's gaze hardened, cold and sharp as a blade. "Correction," he said, his voice slicing through Lucian's anguish. "I revealed everything. You simply didn't like the truth."
Lucian's body trembled with unbridled rage. "Then I'll drag you with me!"
Kael's eyes glowed—not with anger, not with power—but with control. Absolute, unshakable control.
"Go ahead," he said softly, his words like a soft command, yet carrying the weight of fate itself. "Strike me down. See what you become."
Lucian's body stilled. His sword wavered for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his twisted features. He knew, deep down, that Kael was right. He knew that if he killed Kael, there would be no one left to fight for him. No one left to lead him. No purpose.
Nothing.
Even now, Lucian orbited Kael's presence. He always had. He always would.
"Even now," Kael said, stepping forward, his voice a whisper in the wind, "you orbit me."
He looked up, directly at the celestial rift above.
"Just like the gods."
The sky shattered.
The rift tore wider, its jagged edges crackling with divine energy. Lightning poured from it like the blood of stars, filling the heavens with light that was not pure but twisted. The heavens trembled.
A scream ripped through the air—no longer human, no longer divine, but something older. Something darker. Something ancient.
The gods were watching.
And now, they were afraid.
Kael raised his voice—not in a shout, but in a calm declaration, his words echoing across the field, into the rift itself.
"This is no longer your war."
He turned, the shadows rising behind him like wings, a storm of power and fury gathering within him.
"This is my world now."
And as the last remnants of the celestial and abyssal battle echoed across the realm, Kael's figure stood alone in the center of it all, unbowed, untouchable.
To be continued...