The sky above Reverent Hollow burned with aurora-like fractures—threads of fading divinity swirling as broken halos collapsed into the earth. Cries of dying seraphs echoed faintly, like whispers riding on the wind. Silence had never felt this heavy.
Rael Vireon stood atop the ruined obelisk of the Temple of Eight Judgements. Beneath him, the once-holy sanctuary was now a crater of scorched stone, scattered bones, and dying gods. His cloak, blackened by divine fire, swayed lightly with the smoke rising around him.
In his hand, Nullfire pulsed gently—not in rage, but almost… mournfully.
> "Five gods down," Rael whispered to himself. "Three remain. And yet, I feel nothing."
Each god had fallen more violently than the last. Each time, their followers screamed his name with hatred. But even as entire legacies were erased, he didn't feel victorious. His heart beat slow, indifferent—his body moved like a ghost obeying a promise long carved into bone.
Suddenly, a faint glow flickered in the sky.
A Divine Mark.
From the heavens above, a golden seal burst into view, cracking the clouds like lightning etched in sunlight. It was Havenfire, the last bastion of the Divine Assembly. And descending from that seal was a presence unlike any Rael had faced before.
> "You've drawn them out," said a voice behind him.
Rael turned slowly.
It was Thane, the Mirror Monk—the last mortal hero not yet slain by his hand. Cloaked in silver light and silence, Thane looked tired… but still ready to fight.
> "You won't reach the final gate," Thane continued. "You've gone too far."
> "Then strike me down," Rael replied, stepping forward, Nullfire already rising.
> "I will." Thane breathed, steadying his soul blade. "Not for the gods. For the people who still believe in tomorrow."
Rael's shadow spread like spilled ink over the ruined stones.
> "Then they believe in a lie."
The final battle between mortal flame and immortal defiance was about to ignite again.
The first blow was silent.
Rael moved faster than thought—Nullfire arcing like a shadow severing light. Thane's soul blade met it with a brilliant clash that split the sky for miles. No wind followed. Just force—a clash so precise the air itself seemed to rip in neat lines.
They danced across the rubble, stepping over the corpses of forgotten gods, neither yielding ground.
Thane's eyes glimmered with restraint. "You weren't always this."
Rael deflected, spun, and struck back—three times in an instant. "I still am."
Their weapons locked.
A pulse of raw spirit energy burst out, knocking both men apart.
> "You claim to be the villain," Thane said, steadying his breath. "But you bury your pain in riddles. What is it you truly want, Rael?"
Rael stood quietly. Behind him, Nullfire trembled in his grasp.
> "I want silence," he said. "The kind only a dead heaven can offer."
Thane's blade fell slightly.
He saw it then—not madness, but something deeper. Something quiet and raw in Rael's eyes. Grief buried so deep, it had twisted into clarity.
> "You lost someone," Thane murmured.
Rael didn't answer.
But the moment cracked—his composure shifting like a shadow in candlelight.
The silence was shattered by a horn blast from the sky.
Above them, the Divine Seal of Havenfire began to crumble—runes breaking apart, each one pulsing with celestial defiance.
And from that light descended a god unlike any before.
Robes woven from sunfire. Hair like flowing stardust. Wings sculpted from pure truth.
Vaelor, Warden of the First Flame.
The first god.
The original.
> "Enough," Vaelor's voice thundered. "You have unmade too much, Rael Vireon."
Rael looked up, eyes narrow. His body tensed. Even Thane stepped back—this was a presence no mortal could challenge.
> "It was always going to be you," Rael said, quietly.
> "You think you are justice?" Vaelor demanded.
> "No." Rael raised Nullfire.
> "I am the consequence."
The sky churned as Vaelor descended fully. His wings of eternal truth shimmered across the clouds, dispelling darkness, but not fear. Even Thane — forged in battle and tempered by time — took a cautious step back.
This wasn't a god.
This was the beginning of the concept of divinity itself.
And Rael… he didn't flinch.
> "You shouldn't exist," Vaelor said, eyes glowing with primordial fire. "The mortal plane was not built to house your defiance."
> "Then maybe it was built wrong," Rael answered coldly, lifting Nullfire to the heavens. "And I'm here to rewrite it."
Vaelor raised his palm. Light twisted into a spear, forged from the first sun that ever burned. With a single motion, he hurled it at Rael.
The world slowed.
Rael's eyes sharpened. For a moment, he saw her again — the smile, the warmth, the day the gods failed to save her. And in that flicker of memory, time snapped back.
With a roar, he swung Nullfire — not to block, but to devour.
The spear shattered against the cursed blade, sending ripples of paradox into the sky. Lightning turned backwards. Stars blinked out. Mountains in the distance crumbled into sand.
Thane shielded his face, staring in disbelief.
> "He consumed divine light…" Thane whispered. "How?"
But Vaelor was already moving, his voice echoing across the planes.
> "Then I shall burn away your existence from the root."
He descended with celestial fury — a god's full essence bearing down on a single mortal man.
But Rael… stepped forward.
> "Come then, First Flame," he whispered.
> "Let me show you what your neglect created."
They clashed.
The world cracked.
And in that single instant, everything Thane knew about power, gods, and purpose — was undone.
The battlefield no longer resembled the world it once was.
Skies turned black with ash, stars vanished behind veils of divine fire and cursed smoke. Where Rael and Vaelor clashed, realities cracked like fragile glass — ancient laws of existence unraveling at the seams.
Thane watched from a shattered tower's edge, gripping the hilt of his shattered blade. He had fought with gods. He had faced calamities. But this—this was something else.
> "This isn't a battle," he muttered, heart pounding. "It's an end."
Rael dashed through a wall of celestial flame, the edges of his body fracturing into shadow and flame. Nullfire hissed, not from the heat, but from hunger. The blade craved divinity, and Vaelor was the finest meal it had ever tasted.
> "You wage war against eternity," Vaelor declared, wings unfurled in blinding radiance. "For what purpose, mortal?"
> "Because eternity let her die," Rael spat, his voice both man and myth. "Because eternity watched and did nothing."
He struck.
Nullfire carved a void through space itself — not an attack, but a tear in the world's fabric. Vaelor countered with a blast of divine chronos energy, aging the air, the stones, the moment itself.
They collided again.
And in that instant, the world paused.
> "I see now," Vaelor said, as cracks formed along his golden armor. "You're not seeking power. You're seeking release."
Rael's silence was confirmation enough.
Vaelor's form began to falter. The god who birthed fire, who breathed time into the stars… was bleeding. Not just ichor — but faith.
> "You've made the heavens doubt," Vaelor whispered. "Even the laws that bind us tremble."
> "Then they should fall," Rael said.
He lifted Nullfire one final time in that clash.
And as it came down, the skies screamed, the stars broke, and the First Flame was extinguished.
---
The world stilled.
Silence spread like dawn.
And in the distance, Thane fell to his knees—not out of fear, but awe.
> Rael had done the unthinkable.
Rael had killed the first god.
But his eyes… were not proud.
Not even relieved.
Only hollow.
The god's body crumbled into cosmic ash, scattering into the void.
No celebration followed.
No chorus of triumph.
Only silence.
Rael stood still beneath the collapsing heavens, surrounded by the remnants of divine architecture. Broken pillars of faith and time littered the landscape, and in the sky above — where once stars danced in harmony — only emptiness remained.
Nullfire dimmed in his hand.
> "It's done," he whispered, not to anyone… but to her.
Thane slowly approached from behind, limping across cracked earth that no longer pulsed with life. His armor was half-melted, his spirit heavier than it had ever been.
> "You... you killed him," Thane said, disbelief laced with reverence. "You destroyed the First Flame. The world—how does it even exist after that?"
Rael didn't respond.
Instead, he turned toward the Temple of Origin — the last structure still standing. A monument built by the gods to house fate's tapestry.
Now? It was Rael's destination.
> "What are you planning?" Thane asked, finally drawing closer. "There's no one left to stop you."
> "Exactly," Rael muttered. "That was always the point."
He walked, slow and resolute. Every step echoed with finality. Each footfall left imprints scorched with shadow and memory.
The grand doors of the Temple opened, not by magic — but by submission. The temple knew. The gods knew. The world itself knew:
> The era of divinity was over.
The age of Rael had begun.
Inside, he ascended the stairway of existence, where every god had once etched their decree. At the summit stood the Empty Throne — untouched since creation.
Rael placed his hand on it.
And for a moment, the void whispered — her voice, faint but real.
> "You said… you'd bring me back."
Rael's fingers curled into a fist.
He sat.
And the throne, once meant for immortals, bent for a mortal who had slain gods.
As Thane knelt before the temple's entrance, thunder boomed far away.
Not from storm.
But from the universe itself shifting.
---
From this moment onward…
The world would no longer be ruled by gods.
But by a man who had destroyed them.
A man whose heart had died long ago.
And was now rewriting the world in memory of the one person he had truly lived for.
But no one… knew her name yet.
And he would never speak it — not until the world was ready.