The sky above the fractured plains had not healed.
Even after the emissary's light vanished, its golden radiance lingered in the clouds like an afterimage, bleeding into the shadows that Kael commanded.
Kael stood silent, his gaze fixed upward. The battlefield felt hollow now—an echo of something greater that had yet to unfold. The divine presence that had struck the earth had left behind more than ruins. It had opened a door.
A soft breeze moved through the devastation, carrying whispers that did not belong to the wind. Lyra turned, her pulse quickening. "Kael… do you hear that?"
He did. Voices—ancient, layered, neither near nor far. They spoke in the tongues of the stars, syllables heavy enough to make the world tremble.
"The gods are watching," Kael murmured. "And now they gather."
---
Far beyond mortal sight, past the veil of night and creation itself, the Celestial Council convened.
Twelve thrones of impossible grandeur circled a vast expanse of light. Each throne pulsed with its master's essence—storm, flame, crystal, shadow, void, and star. At the center floated the Seat of Equilibrium, empty since the beginning of time.
The gods spoke without mouths, their thoughts thundering through the sacred realm.
"The mortal has bound the Abyss," boomed Aureon, god of light. His form blazed like a living sun. "This cannot be ignored. He wields what even we once feared."
Mireth, goddess of knowledge, her eyes whirling galaxies, countered softly, "He passed the Trial of Divinity. To deny him now would break our own laws. Perhaps… he was fated."
"Fate?" another scoffed—a form of black smoke swirling with scarlet eyes. Drexar, god of chaos. "Fate did not raise him. Defiance did. He's a blight wearing celestial skin."
The hall trembled as more voices rose, each arguing, each afraid.
Then the stillness returned.
From the void at the center of the council, a quiet voice spoke. One that silenced gods themselves.
"Enough."
The light around the Seat of Equilibrium flickered—then formed the outline of a man. His eyes were neither mortal nor divine, his presence older than the stars.
It was Elyndor, the First God—the one who had not spoken in millennia.
"The mortal, Kael of Chains," he said slowly, his voice resonating through existence, "has done what none of us dared. He has taken the Abyss and made it kneel. Whether through courage or madness, that balance cannot be dismissed."
The gods murmured, uneasy.
Aureon bowed his head slightly. "Then you mean to accept him?"
Elyndor's gaze sharpened, his eyes like dying suns. "No. I mean to test him again. For no being—mortal or divine—can wield both light and shadow without consequence."
---
Back in the mortal realm, Kael collapsed to one knee. Pain shot through his chest—a deep, burning mark etching itself across his skin. Chains of pure energy flared around him, glowing with divine fire.
Lyra knelt beside him, alarmed. "Kael! What's happening?"
He gritted his teeth, clutching his chest as the mark burned brighter, forming a perfect circle of light and darkness intertwined. "They've summoned me," he hissed. "The gods want their proof… again."
Lyra's eyes widened. "You just fought their emissary—how much more do they want?"
Kael lifted his gaze, and in his eyes, twin storms raged—one of night, one of celestial fire. "They don't want proof," he said, voice trembling with power and fury. "They want obedience."
The sky split above him.
A vast gate of golden flame and void opened in the heavens, spilling its light across the battlefield. The world around them bent, torn between mortal and divine.
Lyra's voice broke as the wind howled. "Kael—don't go!"
He turned toward her, his form already dissolving into streaks of radiant mist. "I must," he said softly. "If I run now… this world will never be free."
And with that, Kael was gone—drawn into the heavens.
---
Above the mortal world, the gods waited. The Seat of Judgment glowed with an ancient, merciless light.
Kael's figure formed in its center, his chains clinking softly against the silence of the divine realm. The gods watched from their thrones, their combined power pressing upon him like the weight of creation itself.
Elyndor's voice echoed. "Kael of the Chains. You seek godhood. Then stand before the ones who forged it—and prove you are worthy to bear it."
Kael raised his head, his aura burning brighter, unyielding even beneath the crush of the divine.
"I don't seek godhood," he said. "I seek freedom."
And somewhere, deep within the void, the Abyss stirred—laughing softly, hungrily.