After speaking his last words to his loyal generals...
After offering his final gaze to the people he vowed to protect...
Varvatos vanished.
Not a trace of him remained in the great hall of Nyvaris.
He reappeared far above the Cardinal World, suspended in the cold, infinite vastness of space.
There were no sounds here.
No winds, no echoes.
Only the endless black velvet of the cosmos, studded with countless stars like scattered diamonds.
Varvatos floated, his cloak unfurling around him like a dark nebula, his golden eyes narrowing as he gazed down at the vibrant world below — the world he swore to defend.
He extended both arms outwards, palms open toward the void.
And then...
He began to speak.
Words emerged from his mouth —
words unknown to any mortal tongue,
words older than the stars themselves,
words that did not belong to any language of men, demons, angels, or dragons.
Each syllable resonated with a deep, ancient power.
"Zarath... Ekonis... Valthrem... Solnavai... Eth'ra vorn...!"
The sounds rolled through space, rippling through the fabric of reality like waves through water.
Each word seemed to bend existence itself, causing stars to shimmer and flicker, as if bowing to the power being summoned.
The moment Varvatos spoke the final unknown word, the space directly before him began to writhe.
A single, blinding point of light appeared — tiny at first, like a pinprick against the endless dark.
But it grew.
And grew.
And grew.
The light became a gash in the very fabric of reality, tearing open the cosmos itself.
The tear widened into a massive rift, swirling with iridescent colors no mortal eye could name — hues that twisted between sight and thought, between dream and memory.
Beyond that portal, no stars shone.
No planets turned.
No time ticked forward.
It was a place where past, present, and future ceased to exist.
Where no mortal could ever tread.
The Realm of the Gods.
Varvatos stared into the rift without hesitation.
His heart was calm.
His mind was clear.
He took one breath — a breath that drew in the entire cosmos — and then stepped forward.
The instant his foot crossed the threshold...
He vanished.
Beyond Time and Space...
Varvatos reappeared.
But he found himself standing... nowhere.
All around him stretched a vast, endless expanse of pure nothingness.
There was no ground beneath his feet — yet he stood.
There was no sky above him — yet he looked upward.
No light, no dark, no up, no down.
Just existence itself, raw and infinite.
The silence was profound, heavier than any mountain.
Even the beating of his own heart felt distant, swallowed by the immensity of this realm.
He turned slowly in place, his golden eyes scanning the endless horizonless void.
There was no beginning.
There was no end.
Only eternity.
For a moment, even Varvatos — the mighty — felt like a single grain of sand adrift in an endless ocean.
Then suddenly...
A voice spoke.
It was not a sound carried by air — there was no air here — but a direct resonance within his soul.
"Welcome, Varvatos."
The voice was mighty, enough to command entire worlds.
Yet it was soft, tender, like a parent welcoming a beloved child home.
Varvatos spun around instantly, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his blade — but he saw no one.
The voice continued, rich with knowing:
"I have been expecting you."
A ripple passed through the void — like a drop of water in a still lake.
Before Varvatos' eyes, a figure began to materialize.
At first, it was only light —
A swirling, radiant form of pure brilliance.
Then, it began to take shape.
Tall. Majestic.
The being's skin shimmered like the purest, softest light — not white, not gold, but something beyond color itself.
Its hair flowed endlessly, a cascade of stars and galaxies, each strand holding entire constellations within.
Its eyes were deep wells of existence, containing secrets from before the first sunrise.
The being wore no armor, no robes — only the majesty of creation itself clothed him.
When it finally stood complete before Varvatos, it spoke again.
"I am Veldanava."
Varvatos' heart froze.
Shock flickered across his usually impassive face.
Veldanava?
The Father of Worlds.
The Supreme Creator.
The one who, according to every legend, had died long ago.
Varvatos fell silent, his mind racing.
But before he could form a question, Veldanava chuckled — a warm, rich sound that seemed to weave stars from its echoes.
"I know what you're thinking, Varvatos," the god said, his voice carrying infinite patience.
"I allowed them all to believe I had perished. What you knew... was but one of my avatars — a fragment of my true self."
He spread his arms wide, and for a moment, the entire void shimmered behind him, showing countless universes being born from his very essence.
"As you can see... I am very much alive."
Varvatos lowered his hand from his blade, standing tall once more, composed.
The surprise was great — but his resolve was greater.
Veldanava's smile softened.
He looked at Varvatos not as a god looking upon a mortal — but almost as a father looks at a son who has walked far to reach him.
"I have watched your journey, Varvatos," Veldanava said, his voice now laced with deep emotion.
"I have seen what you have done for the Cardinal World. And I thank you."
Varvatos bowed his head slightly — not out of submission, but deep respect.
"I have come," Varvatos said, his voice strong, "in search of the Keys of the Cardinal World."
"The keys that protect and govern that universe."
Veldanava's expression turned serious.
His starry hair seemed to slow, almost as if the cosmos itself paused in respect.
"The Keys do exist," he said.
"And I hold them."
He raised his hand, and in his palm appeared three radiant fragments — small, but burning with the light of entire galaxies.
"But," he said firmly, "before I entrust them to you, Varvatos, you must undergo the Trials."
Varvatos did not flinch.
He knew it would come to this.
Veldanava's gaze pierced into his very soul.
"You are powerful beyond comprehension,"
Veldanava said.
"And your heart is pure. But strength and purity are not enough. The Keys are not simply treasures — they are responsibilities beyond mortal understanding."
He lowered his hand slowly, and the fragments faded back into the ether.
"I must be certain you are truly ready to bear this burden. For once you accept it..."
"...there is no turning back."
Varvatos closed his eyes for a moment.
He breathed in — steady, deep.
When he opened them again, they burned with a fierce, unwavering light.
"I am ready, Veldanava."
"The Cardinal World needs a real protector — not just in strength, but in spirit."
"I have grown to love it. Its people, its dreams, its future."
"And I know..." — his voice deepened — "the universe is vast. Darker forces lurk beyond our sight, waiting to strike. If I do not prepare now, it will be too late."
He lifted his head proudly.
"I may be able to survive... but without me, the Cardinal World would fall."
"I will not allow that."
For a moment, Veldanava said nothing.
He simply stared at Varvatos.
Then...
A slow, proud smile crossed the god's face — radiant enough to birth suns.
"Good."
The void around them began to shimmer.
The vastness started to move, change, shift.
Veldanava extended his hand.
"Then come, Varvatos."
"Let the Trials begin."