The Empire trembled.
Across its vast provinces—from the snowy peaks of Aetherreach to the molten valleys of Valmora—an ancient dread rippled through the air. Mothers clutched their children tighter. Candles flickered out without warning. Birds ceased their songs, and beasts of the wild howled as if mourning a fate not yet written.
And then the heavens cracked open.
It began with silence—so absolute, so unnatural, it crushed thought. The wind held its breath. The stars seemed to dim.
Then came the storm.
Lightning tore jagged scars across the sky, illuminating the clouds with divine fury. Thunder followed, not in bursts but in an unending, rolling scream—like the death cry of a dying god. Rain fell in torrents, hot and blinding, scalding the skin like divine punishment.
From the heart of the storm, six lights descended, each burning brighter than the sun. As they neared the ground, their forms solidified—tall, radiant figures wreathed in divine fire. Their feet touched mortal soil, and the earth beneath them blackened, scorched beyond recognition.
The Divine Sentinels had arrived.
Forged in celestial flame, clad in silver so pure it hurt to look at, they bore no faces—only smooth helms with twin golden eyes that glowed with eternal judgment. In their hands, they held weapons older than nations—swords that hummed with divine resonance, spears etched with runes that rewrote the laws of reality, chains that danced with unseen wrath.
They did not speak.
They did not need to.
Their presence screamed one truth into the world: They had come for Kael.
Far above, deep within the Imperial Palace, Emperor Castiel stood at his window.
He had waited for this moment. He had prayed for it. The Church had promised salvation. Finality.
And yet… he felt no triumph. No relief.
Only fear.
Even at this distance, the Sentinels' arrival sent ice into his marrow. His skin crawled. His breath came shallow. His mind whispered that these beings—these things—should not exist on mortal ground.
"This... this was the right decision," he whispered to himself, voice barely audible above the storm.
Lightning flashed, and the grand mirror behind him reflected his tense frame.
But the reflection… smiled.
Castiel froze. His blood turned to ice.
That wasn't his face.
It was Kael's.
Eyes gold and ancient, smile knowing and cruel. The smirk of inevitability.
And then—
CRACK!
The mirror exploded outward, shards embedding themselves into the wall. Castiel stumbled back, shaking, sweat pouring from his brow.
A vision.
A warning.
Kael was coming.
In the grand plaza of Solmar, the Sentinels walked with divine purpose.
With each step, the cobblestones hissed and cracked beneath them. Trees wilted. The sky above churned in unnatural spirals, forming symbols that no scholar or scribe could read.
They were not walking—they were unraveling reality itself.
At the edge of the plaza stood Cardinal Veymar, head of the Holy Church, flanked by a dozen robed priests. His hands were raised toward the sky, voice lost in fervent chant, as his eyes stared into the divine brilliance.
The priests chanted in unison, blood dripping from their eyes and noses as the power overwhelmed them. One collapsed mid-verse. Another vomited bile but kept chanting, their voices weaving into a final sacred rite.
Then, silence.
Veymar lowered his arms.
The lead Sentinel gave a single nod.
The hunt had begun.
On the highest balcony of his estate, Kael stood, golden eyes locked on the burning figures approaching.
Beside him, Selene crossed her arms, lips pressed thin. Even she, once a weapon of the Church herself, looked unnerved.
"This is different," she murmured. "Their power… it's unnatural. It doesn't belong here."
Kael didn't answer at first. He simply watched, calculating.
"They are unnatural," he finally said. "Twisted fragments of divine intent forced into obedience. Puppets on leashes made of doctrine and delusion."
Selene turned to him, frustration flickering in her eyes. "And what's the plan, genius?"
Kael's fingers tapped rhythmically against the obsidian railing.
"They expect panic. Chaos. A desperate counterattack. They want to pull me into a holy battlefield."
A slow smirk curled his lips.
"But a king does not dance to another's tune."
The Sentinels marched, and the city broke around them.
Buildings cracked from the pressure of their steps. Walls bled a strange silver ichor. Civilians fled in blind terror—some clawing their own eyes out to avoid the Sentinels' gaze.
Birds fell from the sky, twitching and broken. Time fractured in certain streets—windows showing sunsets in one direction and moonlight in the next.
Reality itself bent.
Then, without warning—
Boom.
A distant tower erupted, engulfed in white fire. The shockwave shattered windows across the district. Screams echoed as chaos spread. The Empire's capital, once the jewel of civilization, was now a playground for gods.
And they had not even reached Kael.
Beneath his estate, deep in its forbidden catacombs, Kael stood before a massive obsidian gate, untouched by light.
Selene and his commanders stood behind him, hesitant, uncertain.
"This isn't about me anymore," Kael said quietly, one hand pressed against the gate's cold surface. "They've torn a hole in the world. They've let in something that cannot be controlled. Not even by them."
Selene's brow furrowed. "So what are we doing?"
Kael's golden eyes glowed with ancient certainty.
"Balancing the scales."
He pressed both palms to the gate. Power surged outward—dark, commanding, absolute.
The runes across the gate lit one by one, burning crimson. The air chilled. The very walls wept shadows.
A low growl echoed—not from this world, but something deeper.
Selene stepped back. "Kael… what did you just do?"
His voice was calm. Cold.
"I called an old friend."
The gate groaned, shook—
Shattered.
From the smoke and debris, a shape emerged.
A titan.
Ten feet tall, skin like molten obsidian etched with veins of living fire. Its wings unfurled, each feather a blade of void, slicing the air with every movement. Its eyes—two burning suns of hate and hunger—locked onto Kael.
Its mouth opened—
And from it spilled the cries of the damned.
A chorus of pain. A symphony of agony. The wailing of a thousand souls devoured in eternity.
Selene drew her weapon, trembling. "What… is that?"
Kael turned toward her, calm as ever.
"The Empire wants to play with gods."
His voice was a whisper.
"Let's see how they handle a demon."
To be continued...