Sloth blinked rapidly as the twin sigils of Sloth and Wrath ignited across his body, glowing with divine intensity.
Before I could unleash my true form still incomplete I invoked the Divinity of Preservation, sealing off the area where the golden-haired girl and the others we had rescued were sheltered. It was a temporary sanctuary, a fragile bubble of stillness amidst the storm to come.
The divinity we gods wield is born from belief our power drawn from the faith of our followers. The deeper their devotion, the greater our strength. Yet, under certain rare and extraordinary circumstances, even this sacred source can falter.
Ancient texts tell us that when the Creator forged the first gods and goddesses, they in turn shaped humans and other sentient beings. The Creator, born of nothingness, requires no worship to sustain power. But we, the descendants of those primordial deities, are bound to the belief of mortals. Their faith fuels our divinity and anchors our sense of purpose to uphold balance across the realms.
A god without believers can still draw upon the divine blood that flows through their veins, but they are shadows of what they could be. And worse if such a god attempts to merge with their true divine essence without the stabilizing force of belief, madness follows. Catastrophe is inevitable. Even the demonic gods, twisted as they are, maintain their cults of worship to avoid such a fate.
My father once told me: when a god seeks to ascend to become a true god they must be tethered by the faith of others. Without it, their mind fractures under the weight of divinity.
The Seven Realms have never faced this peril. Their people are devout, their gods revered. But the Demonic Realm has endured countless upheavals since the Chaotic Era. Faith there is fickle, fractured, and often weaponized.
Sloth is a god of the previous generation, though not an ancient one. His predecessor was overthrown by his own followers, manipulated by Wrath and Pride. They launched a sudden assault, destroyed him, and scattered his divine essence. That essence vanished until it resurfaced a century ago.
The new Sloth is far more capable than the last. Some say he is the embodiment of patience and fury in perfect balance. But in truth, no one can verify what really happened. The records are lost, the witnesses silenced.
All we know is this: the current Demonic God, the Seventh Sin, bears the name Argus.
Suddenly, the entire area was engulfed in dream mist, a sinister creation of Sloth.
Sloth opened his mouth, his voice dripping with malice.
"Don't worry, God of Ice. We didn't come for you we came to kill your brother."
"It's far more beneficial for us to let an unstable, tyrannical god ascend than a stable and resolute one."
"Today is the 'Crimson Eclipse'. Our mother moon shall shine her gentleness and blanket the world in a false calm."
"We, the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Demonic Supremes, used our combined divinity to craft this false realm just to drive you mad. And now, we will steal the most precious treasure you possess "
Sloth laughed maniacally, baring his jagged, icy teeth. His voice deepened.
"Your brother. The Angel of Frost Raka Frozenlight."
"Even as I speak your brother is dying. Hahahaha!"
My remaining humanity trembled like a fragile leaf in a storm.
Though my outer expression remained calm, my inner sea churned violently.
Without hesitation, I unleashed all of my remaining power and activated my divine authority 'Preservation' to seal Sloth in place.
At the same time, I stretched out my hand and invoked 'Ice Age'.
The air around me turned frigid as ice rapidly formed spreading, growing from large to enormous until it towered like a frozen sky.
Then, narrowing my hand, I compressed that massive power into a marble-sized orb and hurled it at Sloth.
A sharp crack echoed through the realm.
Everything froze the mist, the air itself and the world began to crumble.
Sloth became nothing more than a disfigured, broken carcass.
I hadn't spoken a single word. My mind was too fractured.
Above, the Crimson Moon sang its eerie lullaby, lulling my consciousness toward sleep.
But something Sloth said haunted me "we." He wasn't alone.
Someone else on his level was here.
I dispelled the dream mist using the 'Ring of Nature'. But what I saw next tore me apart.
My heart ignited like wildfire.
"RAKA—!"
I screamed, emptying my lungs.
Tears spilled freely as I gazed at my brother's lifeless body, hanging upside down his head severed.
I tried to run to him, but shadows blocked my path.
Slowly, the shadows took form… Sloth again.
He held up something gleaming and horrible.
"Here, here your dear brother's head. Don't you want it?"
He laughed, a cruel echo in the void.
Then I heard it 'that voice'. The one that only whispers to me in the dead of night.
"Leave it to me… hahahaha… Let me take over. I'll make them all pay. Just sleep, North. Let me have your body. Let me avenge our brother."
"Let me have it."
I was slipping… drifting into slumber.
But then a new voice. Distant, yet achingly familiar.
"Wake up, North! It's just a dream!"
"Don't let the Crimson Moon and Sloth toy with your mind!"
"Don't lose yourself 'He' is watching."
"Time is watching."