Chapter 4: The First God King's Rise
The world was still new, its edges raw and trembling beneath the weight of nascent laws. From the broken heart of the world, Gaia stirred—her body a living testament to creation itself, pulsing with the laws the Broken World had cast into existence. From her depths, she called forth three sons — Uranus, the boundless sky; Protus, the restless sea; and Ourea, the steadfast mountains.
They awoke to a world without order, a canvas unmarked by fate or hierarchy.
But the laws demanded a ruler.
Not just any ruler — a god king, whose will was sanctioned by the very threads of reality.
Gaia, the Quisa Creator God, watched her sons carefully.
The laws whispered to her: "A crown must be placed. A hand must guide."
Uranus raised his eyes, shimmering with the endless blue of the skies. His voice thundered through the newborn air.
"I will be king," he declared, "for none can claim the heavens but I."
Protus surged forward, his waves crashing with wild intent. "The sea claims all beneath the sky," he said, "and I will not bow to your throne."
Ourea stood silent, his ancient stones trembling in challenge. "Mountains endure beyond the sky and sea. I will take what is mine by right."
The tension split the air like lightning.
Gaia's heart ached, but the laws were clear.
Only one could wear the crown.
A contest was inevitable.
Uranus knew the laws were part of the Broken World's will — not blind, but seeking balance. The God King must be both strong and just, able to hold the fragile threads of existence together.
His brothers, though primordial gods, did not yet understand this delicate dance of power.
The battle for supremacy began not with weapons, but with will.
Uranus stretched his arms wide, and the sky itself bent to his command.
Protus roared, summoning tempests and tides, battering the edges of Uranus's domain.
Ourea summoned the strength of the earth, shaking the ground beneath them with thunderous force.
They clashed — sky, sea, and stone — their powers raw and unchecked.
Yet even in the chaos, the laws wove between them like unseen threads, binding their fury with invisible chains.
Uranus moved with purpose, understanding the law's subtle rhythm better than his brothers.
He did not simply strike; he shaped.
He wove his will through the laws, bending the storm and rock alike into patterns of order.
Protus's waves crashed, but Uranus raised the sky to shield and redirect.
Ourea's mountains groaned, but Uranus called the wind to erode and reshape.
One by one, he subdued their resistance, not by crushing, but by weaving.
The battle raged for what felt like eternity, a storm of raw power and primordial chaos.
And then, as dawn cracked the horizon, Uranus stood alone.
His brothers, weary and humbled, bowed their heads.
Not out of defeat alone, but out of understanding.
The law had spoken.
Uranus was the first God King.
The crown was his — not merely a symbol, but the binding of authority with cosmic will.
Yet the world was far from settled.
From the shadows beyond the Wall, a primordial god stirred — an ancient force older than the sky itself.
A figure woven from the raw darkness of Erebus, a force of shadow and silence.
Uranus knew this was his next trial.
To claim the crown was one thing; to defend it against the primordial forces that shaped the universe was another.
Erebus moved through the void between stars, a whisper of despair and oblivion.
He sought to unravel the fragile order Uranus was building.
The first confrontation between God King and primordial force was a battle not just of power, but of essence.
Uranus called upon the sky, blazing with light and thunder.
Erebus answered with shadows that swallowed stars and silenced the air.
Their clash was a dance of light and dark, creation and oblivion.
Uranus summoned storms that roared like titans, while Erebus wove darkness that devoured even the sound.
The laws themselves shuddered under the strain.
For a moment, it seemed the balance might tip.
But Uranus, strengthened by the authority granted by the laws and Gaia's blessing, held firm.
With a final roar, he shattered the shadows, forcing Erebus back into the depths.
The victory was hard-won but clear.
Uranus was not just a ruler by claim, but by right.
He had faced the primordial darkness and emerged unbroken.
The world watched and trembled.
The first God King had taken his place.
Gaia looked on, her eyes filled with both pride and sorrow.
She knew this was but the beginning of the struggles to come.
The laws were still young, and the balance fragile.
Uranus, Protus, Ourea — all were part of the great design.
But none could predict the storms that awaited when the Titans rose.
For now, the Broken World exhaled.
A fragile peace settled over the land, held by the new God King's will.
The stage was set.
The story was just beginning.