Chapter 2: Ashes of Divine
The gods stirred.
Beyond the veil of mortal comprehension, in the astral dominions where time spiraled into itself and stars whispered their names, ancient eyes blinked open. One by one, pantheons awakened. Gods of thunder, harvest, wisdom, and war—all turned their gaze toward the mortal plane.
And they all felt it.
A presence.
A return.
But when they tried to act, when they attempted to descend, to manipulate, to meddle in the affairs of men as they had in ages past—they could not.
Something stopped them.
A barrier not made of spell or will, but of authority.
"This world is sealed from our touch," whispered Vhariel, Archon of Skies, wings spread in galaxies.
"The Seal of Dominion," murmured Lorae, the All-Singer. "Only one bearer has ever wielded it… and he vanished."
"Vanished?" growled Baekhur, god of unrelenting conquest. "No. He was sealed."
"And now?"
No answer.
Silence, like the hush before a divine storm.
On the mortal plane, in the war-torn east, the dawn sun rose reluctantly behind clouds soaked in ash and steel. Drums pounded in the distance as horns announced the end of another inconclusive clash. From the granite outpost at Fort Dazhar, the war council convened beneath a canvas of smoke.
Inside the central war tent, the mood was tense but not defeated.
General Kael Valtor—Grand Commander of the Zepharion Legions, hero of twelve campaigns, breaker of sieges, and an unstoppable wall of martial discipline—stood at the head of the war table.
Maps were scattered, marked with blood and ink. Tiny figurines of obsidian and ivory—representing units—crowded the borders.
Major Torrin, tall and perpetually grim, gave his report.
"We pushed back the corrupted in the northern trench, but their war beasts are adapting. Our pyrelancers have confirmed kills, but nothing decisive."
"Casualties?" Kael asked, voice as steady as steel drawn.
"Three hundred confirmed dead. Seventy-eight wounded who will not survive the night. And…" Torrin hesitated. "Another wave of spontaneous mana crystallization. Six soldiers turned into glass."
Silence.
Then Captain Leen, arms crossed and boots muddy, grunted. "That's still better than last week."
Lieutenant Rhell, the youngest at the table and frequently the unfortunate bearer of bad timing, added cheerfully, "But they're calling it a 'stalemate with style' back home."
Kael raised one eyebrow slowly.
Rhell paled. "Sir. I meant that as a joke. Not… not an actual strategic assessment."
Kael exhaled slowly, not unlike a mountain considering an avalanche.
"Let me be clear," Kael said, voice like gravel under pressure. "This is not a victory. But it is not a loss. We are bleeding, but so are they."
Leen leaned forward. "Sir, the men say even when they're dying, they still fight. I saw a soldier with one leg left strangle a corrupted brute with his own severed arm."
"That's Lieutenant Kravon," Rhell added, nodding. "We promoted him posthumously. The brute's still scared of severed limbs."
Torrin sighed. "Humans are stubborn bastards."
Kael smirked. "That's why we're still here."
There was pride in his voice. Not arrogance—Kael never allowed that. But respect for his soldiers. They were not winning. But they were not losing either. In a war against corruption itself, that was something.
Rhell, sensing the air shift slightly, tried to lighten it further.
"At least the rations are improving. Yesterday we had stew that didn't scream."
Leen frowned. "It was still blinking, Rhell."
"But not screaming!"
Kael chuckled once, low in his throat. "Enough. What news from the western ridges?"
Torrin's expression darkened. "Nothing. And that's the problem. No birds. No reports. Just silence."
"Scout casualties?"
"Unknown."
Kael's eyes narrowed. He stepped back from the table and stared at the map.
"The corruption spreads like rot. It adapts. Learns. But we are learning too. And until we understand its source…"
He didn't finish.
Because deep inside, Kael had begun to remember things.
That night, as firelight danced against canvas, Kael stood alone at the edge of the outpost, staring into the broken horizon.
He lit a single pipe of bitterleaf and took a slow drag.
Three hundred years ago, the world had been… different.
Normal.
He remembered it—not in stories or scrolls, but in his bones.
Cities were ruled by law, not floating temples. Magic was a rare gift, not a virus. Trees did not whisper forgotten names. Men lived, died, and passed in peace.
Then it changed.
Everything.
The sky turned sideways.
Monsters crawled from shadows that once held nothing.
And everyone… accepted it.
Like the world had always been this way.
They called it "the Shift." But Kael knew the truth. Something—someone—had done this.
"It was that narcissistic god," he muttered, spitting into the dirt. "Changed everything and just… vanished. Left us to clean up his divine mess."
He didn't know the name.
No one did.
But legends spoke of a being sealed. A creature of impossible power.
And Kael hated him. Not for the destruction, but for the silence. The abandonment.
What kind of god alters the fate of worlds, breaks the laws of magic and time, and then disappears without a word?
Kael clenched his fists.
If he ever met that god…
He didn't finish the thought.
Far away, in a palace of glowing moonstone and sacred silence, a child slept.
Cradled in warmth and guarded by runes older than kings, the infant radiated power.
His eyes, when open, reflected truths older than galaxies.
But now, he simply breathed.
Lady Seraphina watched over him, humming melodies that stirred spirits from the walls.
His twin sisters stood guard like two fierce shadows.
The holy tree in the garden, still blooming frost-lilies, rustled without wind.
And in the distance, spirit beasts howled reverently.
The child did not cry.
He listened.
He waited.
He remembered.
And though his soul knew who he was, his heart trembled when he thought of one thing:
What would Father say… if he knew?
That the child he had not yet held was the very god he despised.
I don't want to know.
The divine watched.
The mortal world burned.
And the sealed one smiled in his cradle.
[End of Chapter 2: Ashes of Divine]