The Keeper's blade descended like judgment itself.
The sky screamed, shattering into waves of gold and silver light. Cled raised his dagger, and the world erupted. The collision tore through the crater, hurling storms of energy in all directions. Mountains quaked, rivers of molten frost spilled down the ridges, and the air became fire and ice all at once.
The Keeper did not move, wings spread wide, face serene as a statue. Each swing of its blade carved lines of light through reality, sealing the air around Cled like a cage.
"Your fracture defies the natural order," the being's voice rang, neither male nor female — more like a choir bound to a single tone. "Return it to silence."
Cled's golden-green aura flared, splitting the frozen air. "If silence means submission—" he leapt, slashing forward, "—then I'll make noise loud enough for the gods to hear!"
Their weapons met again, light on light. Sparks of color scattered like shattered stars. For an instant, Cled's body blurred — not from speed, but from instability. The powers within him were clashing again, trying to tear each other apart.
He gritted his teeth, forcing them into balance. "You think you can cage what even the Abyss couldn't contain?"
The Keeper's mask turned slightly. "Containment is mercy."
Its hand flicked. Chains of silver energy shot out, wrapping around Cled's arms, chest, and throat. They burned like molten frost, pulling him to his knees. He gasped, his aura flickering.
The Keeper stepped closer, raising its sword once more. "The Sky Throne will have your essence. The fracture must not live."
"Sky Throne…" Cled spat blood and laughed weakly. "You talk about gods who cracked the sky themselves. And you think they deserve to judge me?"
The green light in his veins pulsed violently. The chains trembled. "Let's see how your order handles chaos."
He roared — and the world changed color.
The golden aura twisted, merging with the green into a spiraling vortex that ripped the chains apart. Cled's form blurred again, wings of light and shadow flaring behind him. The ground beneath him shattered as he launched upward, his dagger turning into a spear of blinding radiance.
The Keeper swung, but too late — the spear struck its chest.
The sound that followed wasn't a scream. It was a hymn.
The Keeper staggered backward, a column of light bursting from the wound. Fractured halos spiraled out of its body, each one singing like a broken choir.
Then, for the first time, Cled saw its face.
Behind the cracked mask was not flesh, but a faint human shape — pale, weary, and covered in lines of ancient script. Its eyes were pure white, but they flickered with something almost… sad.
> "We once believed as you do," it whispered. "That freedom was divine. But freedom destroys order. Order builds eternity."
Cled's chest heaved. "Then maybe eternity was never worth keeping."
The Keeper's light dimmed — and then, suddenly, another voice echoed above.
> "Enough."
The clouds split.
Out of the golden storm descended three more Keepers, their armor glimmering like molten suns. Each carried a different weapon — a staff, a blade, and a chain forged of light and smoke.
The first Keeper, the wounded one, knelt and bowed its head. "He bears the fracture, Seraphis. He cannot be allowed to ascend."
Seraphis — the leader — lowered its staff, eyes burning with twin suns. "Then we bind him between Sky and Abyss. Let no world claim him."
Cled's aura flared brighter. "You'll have to kill me first."
The three Keepers raised their weapons in unison, forming a triangle of pure light. Symbols of divine script circled the air, each one pulsing like a heartbeat.
Cled's instincts screamed. He felt it — the same energy that shattered the world once before. "They're calling on the Throne," he muttered.
The ground vanished.
Light devoured everything.
When vision returned, he stood on a platform made of clouds — endless, glowing white stretching into eternity. Around him, countless runes hovered like fireflies. Below, there was no earth — only the reflection of the world, distant and fading.
Cled's body felt weightless, but his mind burned. The fracture inside him pulsed harder than ever, threatening to tear him apart.
He looked up. The Keepers hovered above him in a perfect circle.
"This is the Skyfold," Seraphis intoned. "Where mortal will dissolves. Surrender, and you will be purified."
"Purified?" Cled clenched his fists. "That's what you call erasing everything that doesn't fit your perfect little script?"
The staff-wielding Keeper's eyes narrowed. "You are tainted with the Abyss. You cannot understand purity."
Cled smirked. "You'd be surprised what I understand."
He thrust his hand outward — and the fracture sang.
Golden and green energy exploded from him in a spiral. The cloud beneath his feet cracked. The entire Skyfold trembled, runes shattering like glass.
The Keepers staggered, their halos flickering.
Cled rose higher, light roaring from his body. His wings spread fully now — half radiant gold, half seething green. Each feather burned with its own rhythm.
"Your purity," he said, voice deep and resonant, "comes from fear. You fear what doesn't obey. You fear what can choose."
Seraphis leveled its staff, light gathering at the tip. "And you fear what you truly are."
Before Cled could respond, the staff struck the platform. The runes reformed, spinning faster and faster until they became a vortex of blinding white. Chains shot out again — but this time they weren't meant to bind. They were meant to divide.
Cled screamed as the chains pierced through his chest, splitting his energy apart. Gold from green. Sky from Abyss. His wings tore, his aura fractured into two swirling storms.
"Stop!" he roared, struggling against the light. "You'll—"
> "We will restore balance!" Seraphis thundered.
The world began to collapse. The Skyfold trembled, reality itself shaking. The light grew unbearable.
Then — something answered.
From far below, beneath all creation, a pulse echoed upward. Slow. Heavy. Ancient.
The abyss was calling.
Cled's green eye flared open. The chains that pierced him started to corrode, turning from silver to black. The Keepers recoiled, shouting as the corruption spread.
> "He's drawing from the depths!"
Cled's voice was not entirely his own. "You wanted to separate me?" he growled, his tone layered with something older. "Then face both sides."
The Skyfold ruptured.
Golden fire and emerald shadow erupted together, merging into a spiral of divine chaos. The light consumed the Keepers, hurling them outward into the void. Seraphis barely raised a barrier before being thrown back, his staff cracking in two.
When the light faded, Cled hovered at the center — battered, bleeding, but alive. His wings were smaller now, unstable, fading at the edges. The runes around him flickered weakly, unable to reform.
He looked at the heavens above — cracked now, leaking streams of dark-green starlight.
"Echoes of divinity," he whispered. "Even gods break when they listen too long."
Seraphis, kneeling, raised his head weakly. "You… you've doomed us all. The Skyfold cannot contain what you've unleashed."
Cled's aura dimmed, but his eyes still burned. "Then maybe it's time your gods learned what freedom sounds like."
He turned — and fell.
The platform shattered behind him as he plunged through the clouds, back toward the mortal world. Lightning followed his descent — gold and green intertwining.
Far below, in the mountain's hollow core, the abyss pulsed in rhythm. A voice whispered, gentle and triumphant.
> "Fall, fractured one. Fall, and become what you were meant to be."
Cled closed his eyes as the wind roared past. His final thought before the ground rushed up to meet him was not of fear — but of choice.
> Maybe the only way to save the sky… is to break it again.
He struck the earth — and the world screamed.