A howl of thunder split the night sky as Kaien Veylor's blade clove through celestial steel. Lightning cracked behind him, illuminating a ruined temple atop the floating isle of Aelrune. Around him, shattered pillars and drifting motes of divine light bore witness to a battle that would echo through eternity.
Kaien's ember-red eyes blazed with righteous fury. He swung Ashfall, the infernal blade fused with dragon bone, and cleaved a sentry of the Pantheon in two. His cape whipped in the storm as he charged forward, heart pounding with the memory of every mortal he had once saved. Blood and cracks of lightning danced across his gauntlet. He could feel the power of the gods coursing through him—power he had given away in defiance of divine law.
A roar of winged steel heralded the arrival of his final opponent. The Inquisitor-Archon descended from the sky: towering, draped in white-gold armor etched with holy runes, a spear of blinding light in hand. Selvara Nocturne's warning flashed through his mind, but he had no choice now. Mercy had long since fled from this battlefield.
Kaien planted his feet and met the Archon's gaze. The gods were watching. A single, impossible truth burned in his chest: if he fell here, the world would lose its last beacon of hope. He raised Ashfall high.
"Your treachery ends tonight," the Archon intoned, voice like a collapsing star.
Kaien roared and unleashed a wave of flame that cracked the marble floor. The Archon countered with a pillar of pure light. Fire met light in a blinding clash. Kaien staggered back, pain radiating through his veins as heavenly energy seared his flesh. The Archon advanced with inexorable grace.
Before Kaien could strike again, a thousand spectral chains wrapped around him. They bit into his armor, searing runes burning across his chest. His divine heart faltered. He screamed as the chains pulled him skyward.
"By order of the Celestial Council, you are stripped of all divinity," the Archon declared. "You are no longer one of the gods."
A pulse of celestial power exploded. Kaien felt his inner flame collapse, his senses dimming. Memories of aeons—distant stars reborn, mortals saved, miracles performed—faded like dying embers. He looked down at his hands. No fire. No light. Only mortal flesh.
With a final, echoing cry, Kaien plummeted through clouds and lightning toward the mortal realm. He struck the earth with a force that shattered stone, carved a crater in the scorched soil, and scattered corpses of soldiers who had fought for no cause. Dust and blood settled around him as thunder rolled away.
When he opened his eyes, the world was silent. He lay on broken rock, panting like a wounded animal. A cold wind curled across his bare arms. His clothes were torn. His body ached with mortal pain. The sky above was unfamiliar—crimson dusk instead of the eternal starlight of Aelrune.
A soft, mechanical whisper echoed inside his mind:
"Dracovault Protocol activated. System initialization at zero point zero…"
Kaien froze. A faint glow pulsed at the center of his chest, where his god-core had been. He sat up, clutching his chest, staring at the soft blue sigil seared into his skin.
"Identify user," the voice murmured.
His tongue felt heavy. "I… I am Kaien Veylor," he managed, voice cracked. A tremor of pain shot through him.
"User registered: Kaien Veylor. System functions locked. Divine power regeneration disabled. Core fragment level: zero."
Kaien's heart thundered. He pushed himself to his feet, blood trickling from a cut on his brow. "What is this place?" he whispered. "What happened to me?"
"Unknown world detected," the system replied. "Primary objective: survive. Secondary objective: reclaim divinity. Current threat level: extreme."
A distant scream tore through the silence. Kaien bolted toward the sound, every instinct screaming that he was not safe. Cracked shields, broken weapons, and charred corpses lined a nearby path. He followed the trail until he found her.
A young woman—her hair matted with dirt, robes torn—cowered beneath the arches of a collapsed tower. Tears streaked her ash-smudged cheeks. She looked up and froze when she saw him.
"Please," she gasped, voice barely a whisper. "Monsters… they hunt us at sunset. They kill without mercy."
Kaien felt a familiar ache twist inside him. Anger flared where divine power once burned. He stepped forward, muscles coiled.
"Tell me where they came from," he said, voice low but steady.
She pointed to the horizon, where twisted silhouettes moved against the dying light—hulking beasts with eyes like molten steel. "From the rift in the sky. They tear villages apart."
Kaien's jaw clenched. The system pulsed again:
"Threat detected: Celestial aberrations. Estimated power rank: god level. Engage with caution."
He looked back at the trembling survivor. "I will protect you," he vowed, though he had no idea if he could. No divine fire would spring from his hands. He had nothing but his mortal strength and this half-awakened system in his veins.
Behind him, the sun dipped below the horizon. The first of those aberrations let out a howl that rattled the air.
Kaien raised Ashfall—its blade dull for now, its edge worn from his fall. "Then let them come," he whispered. "I am Kaien Veylor. I will stand against the dark."
A beat of silence. Then the ground trembled. Dozens of pairs of eyes glowed in the gathering gloom. Sharp claws scraped stone. Saliva dripped from jagged jaws.
Before he could gather his breath, the nearest beast charged.
Kaien tightened his grip. He braced for impact. And as steel met fang, he felt a spark deep in his chest—an ember of power begging to ignite.