Chief God Arkenas' throne room was silent except for the grinding of his teeth.
His fingers dug into the golden armrests, cracking the divine metal as he poured his will into the radiant lattice before him.
The system of succession shimmered and shifted, its runes burning bright with divine authority, yet refusing to bend.
He pushed harder, threads of his essence weaving into its circuits, commanding it to yield.
But it resisted.
Every time his control spread across its endless expanse, it slipped through his grip like water.
The last piece—the core of the structure—remained hidden, cloaked in an obscurity that even he, the Chief God, could not pierce.
His rage swelled. He had designed this system, created it to maintain his supremacy and ensure that gods rose and fell according to his will.
And yet now, the thing was not just ignoring him—it was actively undermining him.
