The sun was bleeding orange and violet across the sky as Eleanor and Meredith walked toward the Zenith Guard Headquarters. Their robes, once perfectly clean, now bore the honorable stains of combat, a mix of forest dirt and the lingering, sharp smell of darkness that had been destroyed. Eleanor's shoulder still ached where the Phantom Warden had slammed into her, a bruise blooming under the fabric, but a different kind of vibrating feeling filled her veins. She hadn't just survived; she had won. And now, still buzzing from the fight, she was about to meet the Ascendants, the living legends of the Angel Realm. No pressure, right? Just meet the most powerful beings you know, looking like you wrestled a badger and lost a little.
The headquarters loomed before them, a huge sign of power, carved directly into the very heart of a mountain that seemed to touch the sky's fading light. Marble steps, smooth and worn by countless footsteps, twisted upward in a dizzying climb toward a colossal arched entrance. On either side, massive statues showed angels locked in eternal combat with monstrous, shadowy beasts; their halos cracked, their stone wings etched with ancient fire.
Eleanor stared up, her own wings folding tight behind her. "Can we fly up the stairs?" she asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes. It was a lot of stairs. A lot.
"No," Meredith said plainly, not even breaking stride. Her voice held the unwavering certainty of a stone tablet. "We walk. It's tradition."
Eleanor groaned, a low, dramatic sound that would have earned her a disapproving look from anyone less serious than Meredith. Of course, it is. Because nothing says 'elite fighting force' like cardio on ancient marble. But she followed without further complaint. Her Guardian uniform, black with gold edges and the iconic "Z" on the sleeve, felt heavier today. It carried the real weight of her first true victory, and her first painful encounter with the growing darkness.
They reached the top just as the last rays of sun painted the sky in streaks of bright gold and rose. Long, shifting shadows stretched across the ancient stone, making the imposing statues look even more threatening.
"Wait here," Meredith commanded, her face already hardening into the formal mask she wore for superiors. "I'll inform the Commander of our arrival."
Eleanor paced back and forth, a nervous energy crackling through her in the dimming twilight. Her hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of her axe. A few tense moments later, the massive doors silently glided open, and Commander Aldric himself stepped out.
He was as imposing as ever. His dark skin seemed to absorb the torchlight, and his bald head gleamed like polished bronze. A formidable black beard, streaked with silver like a gathering storm cloud, rested on his chest. He was dressed in golden armor, each intricate piece shining with a battle-hardened glow, telling tales of countless conflicts without a single word. He looked like he'd been carved from the mountain itself, then polished to a terrifying shine.
"Guardian Eleanor," he boomed, his voice a deep rumble that resonated with power and respect. "You had quite an exciting morning, I hear."
Eleanor snapped to attention, bowing respectfully, feeling a strange mix of pride and exhaustion. "I did, sir. I fought and defeated a high-level Black Angel. The villagers identified him as the Phantom Warden."
A collective, hushed gasp rippled from somewhere within the depths of the hall. Oh, so he's actually famous-famous. Good to know.
Aldric's silver eyes narrowed slightly, his expression growing more serious than a tax auditor. "Come. The others will want to hear this from you."
He led her into a vast, circular chamber. The high ceilings vanished into shadows, lost to the torchlight. Ancient tapestries showing epic battles hung from the walls, their threads almost glowing with history. Clusters of bright crystals cast a soft, glowing light across the room. Here, arranged in a wide semicircle, waited the eight Ascendants, the undisputed top leaders of the Zenith Guard, the strongest warriors in the realm.
Eleanor felt the full, crushing weight of their combined gaze. Some studied her with calculating eyes, others with open curiosity, and a few, chillingly, with an almost icy detachment. But this time, she wasn't just a nervous recruit from training. She was a Guardian who had single-handedly overcome a formidable enemy.
Peter Somniel, the Dream Ascendant, was the first to break the silence. He lounged back easily in his sleek black suit, an amused smirk playing on his lips, his purple eyes glinting with a new, dangerous interest. "So, the new blood already has war stories," he said casually, adjusting his cuffs. "A Black Angel defeated in a solo fight? My curiosity is sparked."
Eleanor's gold eyes blazed with a confidence born from adrenaline and a genuine sense of accomplishment. "He controlled space. Twisted reality around us, deliberately separating me from Meredith. He tried to manipulate my mind, tried to use my grief against me."
Peter's smirk faltered, replaced by something far more sharp and predatory in his purple gaze. "And you overcame that? How?"
"I burned him to ash with Sunfire."
The room plunged into an immediate, deafening silence. You could have heard a feather drop, if anyone had dared to breathe.
Kylie and Kay Astralis, the twin Blood Ascendants, exchanged a glance of genuine surprise, a flicker of grudging respect crossing even Kay's usually casual expression.
"Sunfire power?" asked Lucy Noctis, the Moon Ascendant. Her silver eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Eleanor with newfound intensity, her long black kimono seemingly rippling in the soft light. She looked like a moonlit shadow given form.
"Yes," Eleanor answered simply, meeting Lucy's piercing stare without flinching.
Lucy offered no immediate reply, but her judging gaze lingered, as if seeing Eleanor truly for the first time. It was a little unsettling, like being appraised by a very fashionable, very ancient, very powerful owl.
Commander Aldric raised one armored hand, and the room snapped into absolute silence. His presence alone demanded respect.
"If the Phantom Warden was truly operating in our area, that confirms our worst fears," he stated, his voice now heavy, like the distant rumble of an approaching storm. "The enemy is planning carefully. They're observing us, assessing our capabilities. Testing our newest Guardian."
Eleanor's jaw tightened at the implication. Her gold eyes flashed with challenging fire. "I'm not anyone's test subject." Especially not after I just single-handedly turned their 'test' into a pile of dust.
Lisa Azeroth, the Destruction Ascendant, let out a loud, approving laugh, a wild, unrestrained sound that echoed through the chamber. Her scarred lips curved into a savage grin. "Now that's the attitude we need!"
"But what about Mariam herself?" Gail Valtheris asked, her pretty face etched with worry as she adjusted her royal blue coat. "The Grand Goddess wouldn't just send a Warden for reconnaissance. There's a larger plan at play."
Meredith stepped forward, her face as grim as winter. "She won't make the mistake of underestimating Eleanor again. After witnessing her power today, Mariam knows exactly who she's dealing with."
Orion Tenebris, who had stood silently by his pillar, an almost imperceptible shadow within the shadows, finally spoke with cold, absolute certainty. "Which means the true attacks begin now."
Commander Aldric's silver gaze swept over each Ascendant. His voice, now laced with the crushing weight of impending fate, cut through the air. "Prepare yourselves. Mariam will strike again. Next time, it won't be merely a scout. She'll send a full assault."
As Eleanor stood before the Ascendants, she noticed a soft shimmer near the back of the room. Six glowing orbs floated quietly in the air like captured stars, pulsing softly, green flames flickering on their surface without heat. They looked like oversized, very polite fireflies.
Between them stood a tall, robed woman who had made almost no sound since Eleanor entered. Her long, black hair seemed to move even when the air was perfectly still. Her robes, a blend of soft green and silver, were adorned with symbols Eleanor couldn't begin to understand. She hadn't spoken during the earlier exchanges, hadn't even shifted her weight. She was a statue, until she wasn't.
Now, she stepped forward.
"Ah, Lyra Noctvale," Commander Aldric said with a respectful nod, his tone softening almost imperceptibly. "The Spirit Ascendant."
Eleanor met her gaze. Lyra's silver-green eyes were deep, still pools; eyes that seemed to see far more than just light.
"You carry echoes," Lyra said softly, her voice like distant bells chiming through a thick fog. "The Warden's shadow still clings to your wings. His death was a warning."
Eleanor frowned. "A warning of what?"
"Of what's watching from above."
Lyra's six glowing orbs flickered in unison, then gracefully floated back behind her as she rejoined the circle of Ascendants.
Lisa let out a whistle, a loud, clear sound that completely shattered the ethereal mood Lyra had created. "Well, that's a new record for unclear talk. You feeling okay today, Lyra? That was almost like a poem. Are we getting poetry slams now in strategic meetings?"
Lyra tilted her head slightly, her expression utterly calm, but said nothing else. Still waters don't explain themselves, apparently.
Peter chuckled from his corner, a sound that made his expensive suit wrinkle just a bit. "Don't mind her, Eleanor. If Lyra ever speaks in full sentences, we'll know the world's ending. Or that she's secretly been replaced by a very articulate ghost."
Aldric raised a hand for silence, his patience clearly wearing thin. His voice cut through the air like a sword pulled from its sheath. "Enough. We will meet again to discuss tactics. For now, you are dismissed."
As Meredith led Eleanor out of the vast chamber, the feeling of many eyes remained on her back. Some curious. Some dismissing her. A few, studying her with an intensity that promised future complications. But none were more memorable than Lyra's, the Spirit Ascendant, who saw shadows where others saw victory.
Far above the clouds, in a place untouched by the warmth of sunlight...
The Grand Goddess Mariam sat in thought upon her black throne, a colossal seat of darkness that seemed to swallow all light, warping it into deeper shadows. The throne room stretched endlessly in every direction, filled with swirling, dangerous shadows that moved with a malicious life of their own.
"The Phantom Warden," she whispered, her voice like silk over steel as her elegant fingers curled beneath her chin. "Destroyed. By her."
She rose with smooth, unhurried grace. Shadows twisted around her god-like form like living robes of night and starlight. Her purple eyes blazed with a cold, terrifying fury that could have melted mountains and frozen oceans in the same instant.
"She grows too powerful, too quickly."
A trembling servant, barely more than a silhouette, appeared from the deepest shadows, dropping immediately to one knee, practically melting into the floor in respect. "My goddess... The Heralds await your commands."
Mariam's lips curved into a smile that promised utter destruction. "Send them in."
The throne room seemed to grow darker as four imposing figures entered with slow, deliberate steps. These were Mariam's chosen, her instruments of annihilation: the Heralds.
Lyn, the Lightning Herald: A woman with striking blonde hair and eyes like polished gold, she crackled with barely contained electrical energy; her presence sharp and undeniably potent.
Ziza, the Beast Herald: Her brown hair and fiery red eyes framed a face that hinted at a primal, untamed strength. She moved with the fluid grace of a lioness, radiating brutal power.
Hector, the Nature Herald: With shorter black hair and eyes the color of old gold, his very presence made the air thick with the earthy scent of ancient forests, a silent testament to his dominion.
Carna, the Flesh Herald: Long black hair framed a face of ethereal beauty, but her blue eyes held a chilling emptiness, and her very form seemed to ripple with unthinkable horrors beneath the surface.
All four knelt in unison, their heads bowed low in a display of absolute respect and barely concealed fear.
"She is still only one angel, my goddess," Lyn said carefully, a subtle crackle of electricity dancing between her fingers, betraying her underlying tension. "Strong, yes, but she can die. What are your orders?"
Mariam's voice was low, yet it resonated through the colossal room like distant thunder, shaking the very foundations of the dark realm.
"Kill her."
A moment of heavy silence passed, thick with the unspoken weight of the command, before Ziza dared to speak. "And if we fail in this task?"
Mariam's purple eyes flared with a furious, consuming anger. The shadows twisted more wildly around her, responding to her wrath. "You won't fail," she said, her voice carrying the absolute certainty of a god's decree. "But if you do, don't you dare come back to me. I will not accept failure."
Without another word, she snapped her fingers, a casual gesture that unleashed catastrophic power. A portal of pure darkness and starlight ripped open in the air before them, its edges crackling with evil energy. The swirling black void swallowed all four Heralds whole, flinging them through different dimensions toward the unsuspecting skies above the Angel Realm.
Alone once more in her dark kingdom, Mariam settled back onto her throne. Her face was thoughtful, yet etched with cold, unwavering determination.
Her whisper carried through the immense hall like a prophecy written in shadow and flame, a chilling decree meant to ripple across realms.
"She's the last Sun Angel. That's a light I intend to extinguish."