The world awoke to screams carried on wind and static.
Every cathedral, every council hall, every street square shimmered with light as the Orbs of Communion used for holy broadcasts flared to life. The image of the Grand Priest appeared first: bloodied, broken, her final prayer unfinished. Then the feed shifted, showing the smoking crater of the Sixth Continent.
And standing at its heart… was Rion.
His violet Manifesto blazed like a dying sun. Celestine's body lay motionless beside him.
When the Grand Priest's voice faded into silence, Rion looked up straight into the orb that carried his image to the entire world. His eyes were hollow, his voice calm.
> "You called me Savior," he began, "because I bore no nation's blood. You worshiped what you did not understand."
His tone sharpened; the air trembled.
> "I have seen your peace. I have lived in your radiance. And I have seen the rot beneath it."
He lifted his hand. The orb's glow quivered as his Manifesto pulsed.
> "The true evil I needed to erase…"
The wind howled.
> "Are you people!"
The broadcast cut to chaos.
---
That night, the first wave came.
The mansion Rion once called home his secret refuge for the outcast demons split open like an egg of black light. From within poured thousands of creatures, their bodies reshaped by his magic. No longer hollow mimics they had voices, screams, hunger.
They flooded Elaria's streets like an endless tide.
Knights charged, blades drawn, chanting the names of old heroes. Their steel met flesh that refused to die. The demons had evolved beyond pain, beyond fear, beyond the limits that once chained them.
One knight fell. Then a squad. Then a legion.
The air filled with purple fire. The capital's spires, once blue with holy light, turned crimson with blood.
---
On the edge of the volcano, Rion raised his Manifesto, its surface swirling with the face of the ancient Demon King.
> "Your power was meant to rule through fear," he said. "Mine will rule through truth."
The shadow within the Manifesto stirred.
> "And the truth is?"
> "That humans can only value peace after they've lost it."
With that, Rion pressed the Manifesto to his chest. The mountain roared. A storm of violet energy shot skyward, consuming the heavens.
The last remnants of the Demon King's essence flowed into him, carving its shape across his veins. Horns of black light formed around his head; his eyes burned a deep, royal purple.
> "Rise," he commanded.
Across Elaria, the demons howled as one.
Every sealed cavern, every forgotten ruin, every shadow that once cowered now opened its eyes.
The weak became strong. The strong became unrecognizable.
And within hours, the capital of Elaria city of peace, cradle of the Radiant Era was gone.
---
The news spread like wildfire. The other nations gathered their forces.
Sirin's warriors prepared their holy citadels.
Tekyonix forged mechanical golems armed with forbidden runes.
Corollo awakened its forest guardians.
Santomaine prayed until their voices broke.
For the first time in a thousand years, the world prepared for war.
But not all saw it as a tragedy.
In the brass-lit halls of Tekyonix, engineers gathered before a projection of Rion's broadcast. One spoke hesitantly:
> "If Rion was the Savior… then doesn't that mean we're the evil he sought to erase?"
Silence. Then, from the back of the hall, a voice answered, quiet, steady.
> "No."
They turned.
A man stepped forward, young, unremarkable, with plain eyes and travel-worn clothes. Yet his presence bent the light around him.
> "He was not the Savior," the stranger said. "He was the evil that was meant to be erased."
"Who are you?" one engineer asked.
The man looked up, and for a heartbeat, the Orbs of Communion flickered with blue light the Manifesto of Elaria.
> "My name is Hevan," he said softly.
> "And I'm the true Savior."
The room fell silent.
Outside, the world burned violet.
And for the first time since the Era of Radiance began, humanity remembered what fear felt like.
- THE END