The sky burned.
High above the northern horizon, streaks of holy fire danced like dragons made of flame. The Seraphim Knights had begun their march—cleansing every village, forest, and living thing in their path with divine wrath.
Their purpose was singular.
Their target clear.
The Abyss.
And at its heart—Oscar.
---
The Seraphim Advance
Leading the charge was Archon Seraphiel, clad in armor forged from celestial ore, his wings glowing with golden radiance. His sword—Lux Sanctus—left trails of fire across the sky with every swing.
Below him, an army of consecrated warriors marched in perfect formation—uncorrupted, unquestioning, unstoppable.
"Leave no corruption behind," Seraphiel commanded. "Purge the shadow from this world."
Holy fire rained from the heavens.
Entire forests turned to ash.
The earth bled light.
---
The Citadel Prepares
Within the heart of the Abyssal Citadel, Oscar stood atop a spire of dark crystal, watching the holy fire spread across the sky. The distant roars of the Seraphim Knights echoed like thunder.
Darius appeared at his side, his expression grim.
"They're not slowing down," Darius muttered. "They're razing everything."
Oscar didn't blink. "Let them come."
Selene joined them, her voice edged with concern. "Even we may not withstand their full might. You saw what Seraphiel did to the Southern Reaches. He vaporized cities."
Oscar turned slowly, his abyssal energy coiling around him like a living cloak.
"I won't fight fire with shadow," he said.
Selene raised a brow. "Then what?"
Oscar raised his hand.
And the sky cracked.
---
The Godlight Forge
Deep within the Citadel, Oscar had begun construction of a new weapon—not of steel or magic, but of divine origin twisted through the abyss: the Godlight Forge.
It was a chamber of impossible geometry, where light bent in unnatural ways, and where abyssal echoes collided with the last stolen remnants of holy relics.
Here, Oscar did not simply create.
He rewrote.
From within the forge, he had begun crafting something terrifying: a new race—half-divine, half-abyssal.
Born not from the gods…
But from rebellion.
---
The First of the Fallen
Vaelion stood before the forge, his silver hair flowing in the chaos of converging forces.
Oscar stepped forward, the abyss churning in his palm.
"I need a vessel," he said. "Someone who understands both divine duty and freedom."
Vaelion bowed slightly.
"I was a Seraph once," he said. "Let me show them what happens when angels fall."
Oscar placed his hand upon Vaelion's chest.
And began the transformation.
Light and dark merged.
Screams echoed through the forge.
Then silence.
Vaelion rose—reborn.
A being of both radiance and shadow. Wings made of glass and black flame.
The first of the Abyssborn Seraphim.
---
The War Approaches
Far to the south, in Radiantus, the High Priestess sensed the shift.
"Abyss… and Light?" she whispered, horrified. "Such a union should not be possible…"
King Alistair turned pale. "Is he creating gods?"
"No," the Priestess replied. "He's creating something worse."
---
Oscar's Gambit
Atop the Citadel, Oscar addressed his gathered forces—Selene, Darius, Vaelion, the corrupted priests, the abyssal beasts, and the first of the Godlight-forged warriors.
"The gods have declared us heretics," he said. "Monsters. Abominations."
He raised his hand, and the storm clouds swirled.
"But we are the future. We are the storm that will shatter their heavens."
Vaelion knelt before him. "What now, my king?"
Oscar's voice was thunder.
"Now… we burn the sky."
---
Wings of Fire, Wings of Shadow
The heavens trembled.
Lightning clashed against burning clouds as the first wave of Seraphim Knights descended from the divine firmament. Like meteors cloaked in holy flame, they fell upon the edges of the Abyss-corrupted territories with righteous fury.
But this time… the abyss did not retreat.
It rose to meet them.
---
The Battle of the Broken Skies
The sky above the Wailing Cliffs became a battlefield of unimaginable power.
On one side: the Seraphim Knights, radiant and unyielding, clad in gold and white, singing hymns of war and purity.
On the other: the Abyssborn, twisted yet beautiful, born of corruption and light, shadows dancing across wings that shimmered with fractured halos.
And leading them was Vaelion.
His wings were vast and dual-toned—one of black fire, the other of crystal light. Where he passed, the sky split in two—holy chants warped into whispers of rebellion.
From the heart of the divine storm came Archon Seraphiel, a sword of light in hand, his expression cold, judgmental.
"Vaelion," he said, voice echoing like a cathedral bell. "You defile your own creation. You walk among monsters now."
Vaelion didn't flinch.
"I walk among the truth."
Then they charged.
---
Seraphiel vs. Vaelion
Their blades met with a shockwave that shattered the very clouds.
Light and darkness clashed, not as opposites—but as equals. Their auras collided in waves, flattening the mountain peaks below. Seraphiel's divine flame seared the skies. Vaelion's abyssal edge consumed it, twisting it into something more.
"You were once my brother!" Seraphiel roared.
"I still am," Vaelion replied, dodging a beam of holy judgment. "But now, I am free."
Their battle stretched across the sky, beyond the speed of mortal eyes. Every strike of their weapons carved paths through the heavens.
And then—
Seraphiel pierced Vaelion's side.
Blood—silver and black—spilled.
But Vaelion smiled.
"You're too late," he whispered.
From behind Seraphiel, hundreds of new wings unfolded.
More Abyssborn.
The first generation of Oscar's godlight-forged army.
---
Oscar's Gambit Unleashed
Back at the Citadel, Oscar stood before the Obsidian Gate, a massive portal built into the heart of the abyss. Darius and Selene flanked him as the gate pulsed with unstable energy.
"The Seraphim are engaged," Darius reported. "Vaelion's holding them."
"Good," Oscar replied. He pressed his palm to the gate.
"It's time."
With a pulse of his abyssal core, the Obsidian Gate burst open.
And from it emerged monsters not of flesh or bone—but of forgotten divinity. Beasts sealed away by the gods. Creatures too powerful, too chaotic… too real.
"The old world used them," Selene whispered. "The gods feared them…"
Oscar's eyes glowed. "We make them ours."
He raised his voice to his army.
"The Seraphim thought they'd bring our end. Let us show them we are only just beginning."
---
The Turning Tide
Back at the Wailing Cliffs, Seraphiel felt the shift. He looked to the west and saw it: a storm of shadows riding monsters of divine origin. Winged horrors with halos forged in madness. Soldiers of the abyss, but touched by forgotten gods.
He stared at Vaelion, his expression finally shaken.
"What have you done…?"
Vaelion wiped blood from his mouth, raised his sword again.
"Remade the heavens," he said.
And the war began anew.