The heavenly realm trembled with anticipation; all forms of creation gathered in the Citadel of judgment: angels of every rank, divine beasts, and mid-tier gods, none of whom would dare miss the punishment of Carnage, the Emon god of wrath.
"It's finally happening!" An enthusiastic archangel whispers to another. "How long has he been in questioning?"
"A decade." Their companion added, eyes unmoving from the steel doors set to let him in. "Today marks the tenth year since the day he was accused of a great untold sin."
"All those years spent tortured." Another injected coldly, causing the two archangels' heads to turn.
"Isn't he a follower of Carnage?" One leans in, muttering softly to the next.
The follower of Carnage ignores their whispers. "The question period of your sentence is another means of 'discipline,' a form taken as whippings and mind intrusions, paired with other cruel techniques to gain the truth. Do you think a god like himself deserves such treatment?"
"Of course, if he's sent into questioning, it only means he has sinned. " They mutter.
"I shouldn't have known, blind followers like yourself don't think outside what was told to you." He grumbles, jolting upright as the door screeches open, alerting everyone to his appearance.
The sound of chains fills the hushed space; everyone unintentionally holds their breath as he enters. Grasp travels through the citadel as his frame emerges from the embrace of the shadows.
"His wings!" And angel gasps.
"Heavens..." Another groan.
"That's!" Someone flies up, eyes widening. "The Godwake. blades."
Mumbles ensue as they all bear witness to his back, no longer sprouting six wings, only an open jagged wound riddled with miniature golden swords lodged into his raw flesh as if it's a pincushion.
"Godwake? Those small things?"
"Trust me, once conjoined, that blade can be as powerful as a celestial." Another states proudly. "Do you not know of those blades?"
"No"
"Forged by the hands of the first God, able to seal or restrict any being's power, Emon god or not, and if wielded correctly, it awakens anything that is dormant." They explain. "Right now, the blades are being used as a seal; the markings on his skin says it all."
Eyes traveled down his dissolved appearance, long golden hair shrouding his figure, patches of skin showing through with shifting darkened symbols moving amidst old scars.
"Those are the engravings of all sorts of heavenly restrictions and seal incantations caused by those tiny blades." The bystander concludes.
At one glance at his appearance, it leaves one question consuming their thoughts.
'What sin has this god committed?'
With each step towards the heart of the pearlescent judgment stand, the silence deepened. Eleven white pillars rise around him, each a different height, each bearing a god shrouded in veils of gray fog, formless, faceless, yet impossibly present; however, one seat remains empty…
His.
Carnage keeps his head down on the chains binding his hands, thoughts spiraling out of control until they are cut off by a voice.
"Carnage, god of wrath, sixth on the scale of Emon gods, you are here to be judged." A voice trumpets through the citadel. "Before we proceed, is there anything you'd like to say that might improve your situation?"
A silence falls, all waiting for him to answer.
"I didn't…" he begins weakly. "do anything…" He finishes softly, anger rising and falling as he tries to recall what got him here, but it all remains lost.
"Is he speaking the truth?"
"That can't be true; just look at him, this level of punishment for nothing?"
"Yeah! Gods never lie! It's a sin!"
'Gods never lie…' Carnage thinks to himself, a scoff escaping dried lips.
"Gods do lie! I've done nothing wrong!"He shouts, raising his head, eyes widening in both rage and desperation. "I'm being falsely accused!"
The crowd recoils, a collective breath hitching in their throats, yet the Emon gods don't react, merely observing in silence.
"Unfortunately, that won't affect the outcome." The voice answers calmly. "Shall we continue?"
With a snap, golden energy swam in the air above his head, forming a justice scale out of pure gold.
Panic settles, as though he already knew the outcome of his trial. "I didn't do it!" Carnage yells. "I'm a god, why would I sin!!!"
The voice overlooks his plea. "Carnage, sixth Emon god, you are being judged on a multitude of sins; however… one towers above them all."
'Don't tell me—'
"The First Blasphemy." The words echo through the hall like death itself.
"No…No…NO!" Carnage steps forward, but the chains hold him back. "I didn't! It's all lies!!"
"You dared to claim the heavens for yourself, seeking to stand as the sole god above all creation." The voice states.
"No way."
"This only happened once before."
"How could he!"
"He's a SINNER!"
'No, I loved the other gods… They are my family.' Carnage spirals. 'I would never want to destroy them… or would I?'
"Speak your truth and let the scale of justice weigh on your soul." It declares loudly, as the scale illuminates the space.
"I did do it!" Carnage shouts but halts.
'I didn't do it… What's happening to me?!'
"I wanted to vanquish the gods to take sole ownership of all in the multiverse." He continues, yet he doesn't want to, his mouth moving without his control.
'This isn't what I want to say! Stop!'
He looks around, trying to find the cause of it, until he finds it, his heart dropping. The faintest trails of puppetmancy magic coming from each of the Emon gods, all transferring into his body, through thin strings of magic.
'Magic! They're using it on…me? But why!' His head pivots to the crowd, but nobody sees it.
Inch by inch, the judgment scale tilts to the side of guilty.
"I want the gods to fall and the heavens to become my own." He finally finishes, and the faces of disgust, hatred, and fear all spread across the crowd.
"It's over…" He utters, crashing to his knees in utter helplessness. "I'm…over."
The golden light illuminating from the scale switches to blood red as it stops at its final verdict.
Guilty.
"How could they?" He weakly lifts his head to the gods, sitting upon their thrones; now it's as if he can see their judgmental gaze peering at him beyond the veil. "I thought we were…family."
"Guilty!" The voice announces. "Carnage, your sins have been proven. By decree of the three leading Emon gods, punishment shall now be exacted. Third-ranked deity, pronounce the first punishment."
"Carnage, god of wrath. I strip you of your power and title as an Emon god."
Carnage's eyes flare as the immediate pain surges through his body like a raging fire. He crumbles to his knees as the golden swords burrow into his flesh, right into the center of his soul. His screams of pure agony echo through the citadel, still, none look remorseful.
"Second-ranked deity, please declare your punishment."
'Spare me, please.'
"I, second god of the heavenly realm, erase his god's name from the tongue of man; his worship shall be forbidden, and memory of him will fade with each century."
"Oh my." A bystander mutters.
"What? Miss Clara?"
"After one is turned into a god, their power and soul are never the same. A god is to be worshiped, to be remembered; if not, gradually, their memory fades, and a soul without memory becomes null, a wandering spirit, without a purpose, and as the natural laws of the cosmos states, a soul without purpose is nothing; they are to be absorbed by the void and forgotten, however…"
Carnage slams his fist onto the stand, cracking it upon impact as a sliver of energy trickles through the seal. "All I've been is nice to everyone, doing my duty as a god, and this is how I'm being repaid!" He clenches his jaw, teeth grinding. "I can't… I won't accept this!"
"There was once a god who defied those laws, his tale becoming one to remember."
"The tale of a fallen god." Miss Clara's student answers. "The god that vanished."
"Correct." Miss Clara nods. "If one's desire is strong enough, even they can bend the laws of the universe and conquer heaven." She concludes.
.
.
"First-ranked god of the heavenly realm. May you please present your final decree upon the soul of Carnage?"
"Hell," They declare instantly. "I sentence the former god to the burning infernos of hell."
"What."
Everything, everyone, stills; the citadel lies in such silence that not even the beat of a heart dares to make itself known.
"Then it's done, Carnage, former god of the heavens, you are sentenced to hell." The floor beneath his feet ignites with a red divine casting circle, and blue hellfire rises, engulfing his body.
"Noo!!"
The blue flames lick his skin, agony surging through him, the pain beyond screaming, his voice cracking, broken by the weight of torment.
"AHH!"
The crowd only watches, a sense of relief lifting off their shoulders, as though justice itself had taken form in the fire. The gods sat in quiet; in the eyes of others, it's how they have always been, but to him, it's a mockery.
A mockery of his name, of the worth he once held in their eyes, yet worse than mockery, it was betrayal.
"How could you do this?! I was, no, I am your equal!" Carnage roars, his voice hoarse with pain, directed to the gods.
"And you!" He snaps his head to the crowd, flames coiling up his neck, claiming his scarred skin. "I am a god—YOUR GOD!" he bellowed, twisting against his restraints.
"It's revolting how he still thinks we worship him."
"Looks like the mask is crumbling."
"I always questioned why they call him the god of wrath. Now I know why."
"I'll get my revenge…" His pain contorts into laughter that bounces off the walls. "You think this is RAGE? THE WRATH I WAS CLAIMED TO RULE AND COMMAND? YOU'RE WRONG, DEAD WRONG!" His blood boils. "I've destroyed entire colonies, burned empires to the ground because they threatened the good of the universe, but now, I'll no longer follow your rules, I'll sin as much as I have to until I make it back to your heaven!"
Memories of the tranquil period as a beloved god flash in his mind.
'None of it was true… Can I call that tranquil, or mask that hid the truth?' He questions every aspect of time as a god. 'The smiles, the praise, the love… ALL LIES!'
"I'LL BRING UPON THE GREAT MASSACRE OF HEAVEN! AND SHOW ALL OF YOU WHY THE PREVIOUS GOD OF WRATH CHOSE ME AS THEIR SUCCESSOR!!" he snarled, eyes wild, spittle flying from his lips. "I'll be you end!…" he screamed, throat torn, voice booming through the citadel like a curse.
Until… it doesn't… his warnings become mere whispers of the past, foretold in the tale of fallen gods.