Chapter 3: The Name That Defies Heaven
The chains of the gods recoiled, but they did not vanish. They coiled above the multiverse like venomous serpents, waiting to strike the moment he faltered.
Yet in their arrogance, the gods had overlooked one truth: hatred could shape as well as destroy. Their scorn had carved something within him, something sharper than any divine decree.
He remembered the countless cycles — the lives he had lived and lost, the loves he had failed to protect, the endless apocalypses where he watched creation burn. Each regression had stripped something away, but each had also forged him harder.
This time, he would not endure.
This time, he would rise.
But to rise, he needed more than defiance. He needed a name.
The gods had stolen it long ago, erasing it from the Threads of Infinity so no prayer, no history, no song would recall who he once was. To them, he was only "the Sinner," "the Regressor," "the Broken Immortal." But a nameless existence was still a chain.
So he forged one anew.
Standing beneath the fractured heavens, he whispered it first to himself, a sound heavier than thunder:
"Kaelith Varion."
The name spread like wildfire through the silence, vibrating against the divine chains, defying the erasure of the gods. For the first time in uncountable cycles, he was not only an immortal bound by punishment — he was someone.
Kaelith Varion.
The gods had stripped him of his past. He would carve his future with his own hand.
The skies above quivered. The threads tightened, as if the gods themselves flinched at his defiance. They hurled their will upon him again, trying to drag him backward into another regression. The familiar pull of collapsing worlds gripped his soul, a vortex of fate screaming to reset him once more.
But Kaelith did not resist this time.
He let the regression take him, but not as a victim. Not as a prisoner. As a thief.
If they sought to hurl him back into the beginning, he would use it. Every cycle was no longer their punishment — it was his arsenal. Every betrayal, every war, every ruin he had endured would become a weapon in his hand.
He would learn from each life. Steal every secret. Take every power.
Until he surpassed them all.
As the vortex swallowed him, his vow burned across the fabric of existence:
"I am Kaelith Varion. I will not serve the Threads. I will master them. I will not obey the gods. I will break them. I will not walk their cycle. I will create my own."
And the regression shattered.
Darkness consumed him, followed by the faintest glimmer of a new beginning — a mortal life, a fragile world, a place where destiny awaited. But Kaelith was no longer the lost immortal stumbling through punishments. He carried countless lifetimes of hatred, knowledge, and will.
The gods wanted him erased.
The multiverse wanted him chained.
But Kaelith Varion had chosen his path.
He would not simply survive the cycle.
He would conquer it.
And when the day came, he would stand over the thrones of the gods, no longer their sinner, no longer their regressor.
But their end.