"Something was born... and yet, fate did not bend."
The Demon King was the first to speak those words aloud.
High atop his obsidian fortress, he stood in silence - crimson eyes staring into nothing. The fire in his throne room had burned since the Age of War... but now it flickered. Faded. As if uncertain.
Across the realms, twelve others felt the same crack in the world.
And none could ignore it.
In the Cloud Spires of the Dragon King, thunder shook the skies.
His wings, ancient and golden, spread wide as he roared not at an enemy - but at the question that gnawed at his soul.
"Who were they? What were they?"
The flame in his chest had dimmed - not from fear, but from being outmatched.
In the Celestial Citadel, the Angel King stared at a page that would not write.
His Book of Prophecy had gone blank.
"This is not chaos," he whispered." This is freedom."
The God-King, hidden beyond time, summoned seers, sages, and soul-readers.
They all saw the same: Nothing.
"The threads have snapped," one said. "They were never tied," another whispered." There is no prophecy to follow," said a third.
In the chambers of the King of Time, clocks shattered. In the icy halls of the King of Ice, even the frost stood still. The King of Lightning lost signal from the storm. And in the deepest trench beneath the sea, the King of the Ocean opened his eyes for the first time in centuries.
Together - though far apart - they all came to the same conclusion:
"Eight were born. Their existence shakes the heavens. And we... know nothing."
And that terrified them.
Not because the children were evil. Not because they threatened war.
But because they were unknown.
No fate. No name. No path.
And in the silence of that truth... the kings each gave the same order:
"Find them. Before someone else does."
End of Chapter 3 - The Thirteen Thrones Stir