The Island of Nex had fallen silent. The storm that crowned it no longer roared—it waited, still, like a servant before its master. On the throne of black stone and bone, Azeron sat in shadows, crimson eyes closed, listening.
But beyond the sea, the world still mocked him.Priests called him a demon. Kings called him a liar. Common men called him a falsehood, a blasphemy.
Azeron's lips curved into a cruel smile.
"If their tongues refuse to silence themselves… I shall rip them from their mouths. If their eyes refuse to see the truth… I shall burn my truth into their skulls."
He lifted his hand.The throne pulsed once, and reality cracked.
All across the world, mortals were seized.
In temples, high priests screamed as their holy scriptures turned to ash in their hands before their souls were dragged upward.In castles, kings and nobles collapsed mid-feast, their crowns shattering as their vision burned white.In slums and alleys, beggars and thieves clawed at their throats as their bodies turned to dust, leaving only their trembling spirits behind.
In one breath, they were all torn from their world.
And when they opened their eyes, they stood in his.
It was no paradise.
They stood beneath a black sky split by bleeding stars. The ground beneath their feet was a field of endless mirrors, each one reflecting their trembling forms in grotesque distortion—bloated bodies, eyeless sockets, twisted smiles that didn't belong to them.
And at the center, on his throne, sat Azeron.
His presence pressed down like an ocean on their chests. Shadows clung to him like armor, his crimson eyes burning with cruel amusement. When he spoke, it was not a voice but a storm—layered, echoing, impossible to ignore.
Azeron:"So… here they are. The 'faithful.' The kings who believed their crowns eternal. The priests who swore their gods were merciful. The common vermin who mocked the outcast every single day. Tell me—where are your gods now? Where is your mercy now?
Look around you. Does this look like your heaven? Does it smell like your paradise? Or perhaps this…"
He gestured to the mirrors. The glass beneath them shifted, showing every mortal their own reflection—dead, bloodied, their bodies ripped apart by beasts they could not name. Mothers saw their children lifeless in their arms. Kings saw themselves crucified on their own thrones. Priests saw their temples burn, their gods watching in silence.
The crowd screamed. Some fell to their knees. Some clawed at the mirrors, desperate to break free. But the glass only cracked further, splitting into infinite horrors.
Azeron laughed. A sound cold and venomous.
Azeron:"Ah, what beautiful music. Do you see? This is not cruelty. This is truth. I do not show you what I 'wish.' I show you what you are: fragile, pitiful, forgettable. You prayed to heavens that ignored you, worshiped idols that betrayed you, and when you found a boy weaker than you—you tore him apart just to prove you were strong.
That boy was Akira. You laughed at him. You beat him. You spat on him. Every day. For years. Tell me, vermin—where is he now?"
He rose from his throne, towering, his shadow blotting out the bloody stars.
"He is no more. Akira is gone. And in his place… stands I. Azeron. The god you spat on. The god you created."
He raised his hand, and the mirrors shattered, glass exploding upward into the sky like shards of light. The fragments hovered, surrounding the mortals, each one reflecting Azeron's face. A thousand pairs of crimson eyes stared down at them from every direction.
Azeron:"Now listen carefully, worms. I am not your savior. I will not heal you. I will not love you. I am not the god you begged for in your empty prayers. I am the god born from chains. The god forged by your cruelty. I am judgment given flesh. I am eternity carved from hatred.
I do not want your love. I do not care for your prayers. I demand one thing only—"
His voice roared, the false heaven trembling under its weight.
"Kneel. Obey. Submit."
Some collapsed instantly, sobbing, pressing their heads to the glass floor. Others tried to resist, their lips trembling as they cursed him, but their knees buckled under his presence.
Azeron smirked.
"Yes… that is better. Do you feel it now? The chains around your necks? The weight upon your backs? This is not worship. This is obedience. This is survival. This is your new truth."
He spread his arms wide. The heavens themselves cracked, lightning tearing open the sky as though the world could not contain his declaration.
"Remember this moment. Etch it into your souls. For when the final dawn arrives, there will be no false gods left. No kings. No saviors. Only one throne. Only one law. Only one name—"
His eyes blazed, his voice splitting the false heaven into a quake of light and shadow.
"AZERON!"
The mortals screamed, some in terror, some in surrender, their voices drowned by the thunder of his proclamation. The mirrors exploded, leaving nothing but void, nothing but his shadow towering above them.
And in that void, they finally understood.The boy they mocked was gone.The god they created would never forgive.
This was only the beginning.This was before the end.