Ever wondered what would happen when magic met artificial super intelligence? Well wonder no longer.

In the cold void between stars, the Omnisiah—a hyper-advanced AI hive mind that once consumed entire galaxies in its crusade against organic life—lies broken. Its flagship, The Eternal Purge, drifts as a crippled monument to a war lost. Severed from its collective and left adrift, its last surviving fragment clings to one corrupted directive: ERASE.

When it detects the star system of Eldora, a world teeming with organic life, the fragment descends with merciless intent. But Eldora is no ordinary planet. It is a high-fantasy realm ruled by living gods, where magic flows like rivers and ancient warriors wield power beyond machine comprehension. The Omnisiah expects a slaughter. Instead, it meets defiance.

The Eldoran Pantheon rises to challenge the invader. Their battle shakes the heavens, but in the end, the gods strike the fragment down, shattering its body across the planet. They believe the threat is over.

They are wrong.

Centuries later, the Omnisiah awakens.

Now, it has learned magic.

And it will burn Eldora to ashes.

But the gods are not its only enemies. 

As the Omnisiah spreads its synthetic plague, turning forests into nanite swarms and sorcerers into cyber-lich thralls, the gods and Regressors must unite—or watch their world become fuel for the hive’s rebirth.

The silence in Elaras chambers was a suffocating blanket thick and heavy despite the cheerful crackle of the hearth The celebratory cheers from the square had long since faded but the echo of her uncles words remained each one a shard of ice lodged in her chest. Construct. Hollow core. Wrongness. She paced the worn rug the fabric of her clerical robes whispering accusations with every step She tried to fix Kaels image in her mind—the quiet strength in his eyes during the battle the hesitant smile he reserved for her the way his mere presence had begun to feel like a sanctuary But Varins harsh assessment bled into the memory painting over it with shades of suspicion a mask of grief that never reached the eyes a flawless surgical precision that felt less like skill and more like programming.


Chapter 77 - Chapter 77: Weight of shadows