The empire trembled beneath a sky split by divine light. Clouds rolled like mountains of fire, and from them descended figures draped in robes that shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance. Their eyes glowed as if lit by molten jade, their steps bending space itself. Mortals who looked upon them fell to their knees, unable to bear the pressure.
The gods did not attack at once. Instead, their voices carried across the empire like thunder, audible in every hall, every market, every battlefield:
"Mortals have transgressed. You meddle in ruins forbidden to your kind, awakening powers beyond your grasp. Surrender your emperor and the boy who walks beside him, or your world will be reduced to ash."
Li Yuan stood tall upon the palace walls, Rui by his side. His hand reached unconsciously toward Rui's wrist, gripping him firmly though his expression betrayed no fear. Rui's heart clenched—not from terror of the gods' words, but from the weight of the emperor's touch. Even now, when the empire seemed one step from annihilation, Li Yuan would not let him go.
Within the court, panic broke like a flood. Ministers screamed for surrender, their voices cracking with desperation. "If we hand them over, the empire may yet survive!" "Better one life than millions!" "Do not let stubbornness destroy us all!"
But beneath their frantic cries was something colder—Zhang's betrayal had already spread. Many officials who once pledged loyalty now whispered in favor of sacrifice, emboldened by Zhang's treachery. Their cowardice festered, poisoning the air with division.
General Xie, returning to the capital in battered armor, entered the court like a storm. His booming voice silenced the room: "Do you hear yourselves? Begging like dogs before the gods? If the emperor falls, the empire falls. If Rui is given up, we lose the very spirit that binds our people. Will you shame our ancestors, who fought tooth and nail against heaven's arrogance?"
Lady Qin, standing at his side, echoed his words with fire: "The empire is not built on surrender but on defiance! If the gods demand our emperor, then let them taste our blades instead!"
Her eyes darted briefly toward Rui—soft, calculating, and fierce all at once. She understood more than she let on: Rui was no ordinary boy. His presence was tied to fate itself, and perhaps even the gods feared it.
Outside, the gods' aura pressed heavier, cracking temple walls, shattering mountains. Yet in that unbearable tension, a moment of strange intimacy bloomed. Rui leaned closer to Li Yuan, his voice low so only the emperor could hear:
"Why do you hold me so tightly? Even now, when surrendering me might save you?"
Li Yuan's gaze did not waver. "Because I'd rather burn beside you than live without you."
Rui's breath caught. His heart, already burdened by fear, now throbbed with a dangerous warmth. Amidst gods and betrayal, the emperor's love felt more frightening than any divine wrath.
And so, while ministers quarreled and soldiers sharpened their blades, the gods raised their hands. Lightning split the skies, fire rained upon mountains, rivers boiled. This was not a warning, it was the first strike.
The war between gods and mortals had begun.