Rex squeezed through the door and stopped dead in his tracks.
The chamber was nothing like he'd expected. In the center grew this massive tree—and when I say massive, I mean the thing had to be older than the city itself. Its bark was silver, actually silver, like someone had dipped it in liquid metal. The leaves caught what little light there was and threw it back in brilliant flashes that made Rex squint.
But the really weird part? The tree was growing straight out of solid stone. No soil, no dirt—just roots that somehow found a way to crack through ancient rock. And at the base, there was this pool of something that definitely wasn't water. It moved like liquid light, flowing in slow circles around the tree's base.
Rex took a step closer, then another. He couldn't help himself. The roots were pulsing—actually pulsing—like they had a heartbeat. Each pulse sent ripples through that glowing pool, and Rex realized the tree was drinking the stuff up.
"This is insane," he whispered, but his voice sounded strange in the quiet chamber.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Rex reached out and touched one of the roots.
The world exploded.
Light shot up the root faster than lightning, wrapping around Rex like he was being swallowed by a star. His vision went white, then black, then something beyond either. He felt himself falling—or maybe flying—through space that had no beginning or end.
When his vision cleared, Rex found himself standing in what had to be the middle of nowhere. Stars stretched out in every direction, so bright and close he could've reached out and plucked them. And standing before him were beings that made his brain hurt just looking at them.
Gods. Had to be gods. What else could they be?
They were tall—impossibly tall—and beautiful in a way that felt dangerous. Their eyes held galaxies, literally. One of them stepped forward, and when he spoke, his voice came from everywhere at once.
"You have been chosen."
Rex's mouth went dry. "Chosen for what?"
"To be our Divine General in the war against the forces of darkness." The god's eyes burned like twin suns, and Rex had to look away. "Your heart is pure, and your will is strong. Accept our power and become the vessel of our light."
"Wait, hold on—" Rex started, but the gods were already moving.
They raised their hands, and beams of light shot out, hitting Rex square in the chest. The pain was incredible—like being struck by lightning while drowning in fire. He screamed, but no sound came out.
Another god's voice cut through the agony: "The powers you receive are divine, but your mortal body must be forged like adamantium through constant work and persistence. Only then will you unleash your full potential as the Divine General."
Rex felt the power flooding into him, changing him at a level deeper than bone and blood. Visions flashed through his mind—ancient battles, warriors he'd never heard of, creatures of darkness that made the demons in Arcadia look like house cats.
Then everything went quiet.
Rex gasped and found himself back in the chamber, on his knees beside the silver tree. His whole body felt different—like someone had taken him apart and put him back together with better parts. He looked down at his left arm, the one that had been useless for years, and flexed his fingers. They moved perfectly. Golden light flickered under his skin.
"Holy shit," he breathed, then looked around quickly like someone might have heard him swear in a sacred place.
His reflection in the pool showed eyes that glowed faintly gold, and his skin had this weird, almost translucent quality. He looked like himself, but also like someone else entirely.
Rex knew he couldn't just walk back into Arcadia looking like this. People would ask questions he couldn't answer, and probably try to turn him over to whatever passed for authorities these days. He needed somewhere to figure out what the hell had just happened to him.
The forest would have to do.
It took him most of the night to find the right spot—a clearing deep enough that no one would stumble across it, but close enough to the river that he'd have fresh water. Tall trees formed a natural wall around the space, and a stream cut through one corner, babbling quietly to itself.
"Alright," Rex said, settling down by the water. "Let's see what you've done to me."
The training was brutal. At first, every time he tried to use the power, it came out wrong. Light would burst from his hands in wild, uncontrolled flares that left him dizzy and nauseous. He'd try to create a simple shield and end up blasting a hole through a tree trunk instead.
But slowly, over days and then weeks, he started to get the hang of it. He could shape the light now, bend it into focused beams or spread it into protective barriers. His body got stronger too, adapting to the strain in ways that should've been impossible. The weird part was, he never got hungry. Not once. The divine power seemed to sustain him completely.
Every night, Rex would collapse by the stream, exhausted but amazed at his progress. The stars seemed brighter now, like they were cheering him on.
One evening, after he'd been training for about a month, Rex decided it was time to check on Arcadia. He needed supplies—not food, apparently, but other things. Tools, maybe some new clothes that weren't shredded from weeks in the forest.
He made his way to a rocky outcrop that overlooked the city. From up there, he could see the whole sprawl of Arcadia spread out below, still covered by those perpetual clouds. But he could also see the forest stretching out in the other direction, and despite everything the demons had done, nature was fighting back. Green was returning to places that had been dead for years.
Rex stood there in the wind, thinking about how fucked up everything had become. The curse, the demons, the way people just accepted that this was how life had to be now.
He'd learned some things during his training—not just about his powers, but about the curse itself. It went back centuries, to when humans had gotten so greedy and hateful that they'd attracted the attention of things from the void. Demons that fed on negative emotions, who saw Earth as the perfect hunting ground.
The demons had their own hierarchy, from what Rex could piece together. At the bottom were Wraiths and Reapers—nasty but manageable if you knew what you were doing. Above them were Arch Demons, who were smart and powerful enough to actually strategize. Then came the Hex Demons—seven elite fighters who served as the Demon King's personal guard.
And at the top was the Demon King himself, whoever the hell that was. Nobody had seen him, nobody knew where he was, but his influence was everywhere.
Rex clenched his fists, feeling the power thrumming under his skin.
"Well," he said to the wind, "I guess we'll see about that."