He dropped straight into the ocean of clouds.
At first, the clouds were soft and white, curling around his body like smoke. But the deeper he fell, the darker they became. The gentle mist thickened, turning grey… then black, like he was plunging into ink.
Then—
whoosh!
He burst out from the bottom of the clouds, and the world below finally revealed itself.
Rain.
Heavy rain.
It slammed into him like stones, cold and sharp, soaking him in seconds.
A sudden lightning bolt cracked in the distance, lighting up the sky for a split second—and in that flash, Azren's wide, terrified eyes caught the sight of what waited below.
A city.
A massive, endless city.
Stretching far, far beyond what his eyes could fully take in. It was like the land itself had been swallowed by buildings and stone. The wind screamed in his ears as he fell faster, but his eyes stayed locked on the world growing closer beneath him.
It wasn't a normal city.
It was like something pulled out of a nightmare.
Below him, the city spread like a dark wound across the earth — gothic, cold, and thick with a sense of dread. The sky above it was black with smoke and storm clouds.
The rooftops were uneven and sharp, like broken teeth. Most of them were pointed, crooked, covered in soot and moss, crammed tightly togetherg.
Twisting through the maze of rooftops were narrow alleys, so tight they looked barely wide enough for a child to walk through. Fog slithered through them, coiling in and out of doorways, wrapping around iron lamp posts that flickered with sickly yellow light.
From broken windows, faint glows leaked out, but they didn't offer comfort—only more shadows. The walls of the buildings were soot-stained, cracked.
Through the middle of this monstrous city ran a black river, slow and poisoned. The water looked thick, its surface glistening with oil and filth. Rotting boats floated half-sunken near docks crusted with green mold. The air stank—of coal smoke, wet stone, and something else. Something older.
And there—at the very heart of it all—stood a colossal tower.
It stretched so high, its top disappeared into the clouds Azren had just fallen from. It was dark, built from stones blackened by time, crowned with a giant iron globe that spun slowly in the storm.
Around the base of the tower rose dozens of spires, like sharp claws reaching toward the sky, desperate to break free. Above them, crows circled in the rain, their wings silent, their black forms vanishing into the dark.
The whole city felt alive—not in a way that was warm or welcoming, but like a dying beast, breathing slowly beneath the rain, watching him.
Azren's eyes widened, his breath caught somewhere in his throat.
He was still falling.
Still plummeting.
Fast.
The storm swallowed him, wind whipping his soaked hair, the sound of rain and thunder roaring in his ears.
A second lightning bolt flashed behind him.
And then—
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"
He screamed in pure fear, voice shaking as he hurtled toward the monstrous city below.
But then—just as Azren thought he was going to crash straight into the jagged city below—the sky cracked open.
From high above, within the thick, swirling mass of storm clouds, a hole suddenly appeared, round and glowing. Light—pure, warm sunlight—poured through it, piercing the blackness like a blade of light. The golden beam cut straight through the rain and struck Azren's falling body, wrapping him in its soft glow.
His eyes, wide and wild, snapped upward.
And what he saw next made his breath freeze.
From inside the glowing hole, a hand emerged.
Not a human hand.
It was massive, long, and shaped from pure light, glowing in faint hues of blue and silver, as if the sky itself had molded it. It shimmered like water, yet crackled like energy. The glowing fingers pushed through the storm with ease, parting the falling rain, sending droplets scattering as it reached for him.
FWOOOOOOSH—
The wind screamed as the glowing hand shot downward at incredible speed and—
Grabbed Azren.
It didn't hurt. In fact, it felt… warm, like a comforting touch. The hand wrapped gently around his waist, lifting him without crushing him, and then—
whoosh!
He was pulled upward, rising fast, so fast he couldn't even scream.
The city shrank beneath him. The clouds returned.
And then—he passed through the glowing hole.
Light swallowed him. Warmth poured across his body.
And then—he was above the clouds, under the bright, blue sky once again.
His mouth opened in shock as his eyes locked onto what was waiting for him.
It was the same flying Carriage. The one he had jumped from.
But behind it—floating in the sky—stood a being unlike anything Azren had ever seen.
A woman—but not a normal one.
She was huge, easily as tall as a three-story building. Her entire body was made of light blue translucent energy, glowing faintly like a living spirit. Her hair was long, flowing behind her like waves, made of glowing strands of silver-blue mist, and one of those strands had extended into the sky to become the very hand that grabbed him.
She had a graceful, divine figure—tall, elegant, and serene, clothed in flowing robes made of stars and wind, constantly shifting, shimmering like silk woven from moonlight. Her face was soft and beautiful, but distant. Her eyes were closed, yet Azren could feel she was watching him.
'A God!?'
That's the only thing his mind could compare her to.
"What is—" Azren gasped, heart racing with fear and awe.
But before he could finish, the hand hurled him forward, gently but firmly. His body shot straight into the Carriage again. The door slammed shut behind him with a thud.
The glowing woman vanished into mist.
Azren stumbled back onto his feet, panting, completely soaked, and completely lost.
The same two figures sat before him, exactly where he had left them.
The girl—now clearly annoyed—crossed her arms and leaned forward.
"Hey, you! I told you to stop, so why did you jump? Are you trying to kill yourself again?!, If he didn't have saved you just now then you would have fall to death" she snapped, her voice high and full of frustration.
Azren could only stare at her, chest heaving. His head was spinning, his body trembling. He didn't answer.
The man beside her raised a hand calmly.
"Meki. Stop it." he said in a low, firm voice.
The girl—Meki—puffed her cheeks and turned to him. "But Mister Rizz—!"
Azren, still catching his breath, looked between them. His thoughts swirled like a storm.
'What is going on…? Who are these people? They are not human, are they?!… And that thing outside… That woman made of light…Who was she..what was she..a god? They can summon gods?'
The man—Mister Rizz—leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking onto Azren like a hawk watching prey.
"Young man, can you sit and listen to us for a moment?"
Azren blinked.
He was cornered. He couldn't jump again.
There was no other choice.
'What should I do…? I can't run. Not anymore, maybe I should just… hear them out…'
Slowly, carefully, Azren sat back down on the seat, never taking his eyes off them.
Meki folded her arms again, her face softening just a little. She opened her mouth.
"So, tell—"
But Mister Rizz cut her off sharply, voice calm but cold.
"Tell me young boy…" he said, looking directly into Azren's soul.
"How much do you know about the Blood Infection of the Goddess—
The Mother of All?"
Azren's heart skipped a beat.
His eyes widened in confusion and dread.
"Blood… infection?" he replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Azren's brows furrowed, his voice unsteady.
"What are you talking about...."