The sky trembled as if remembering an ancient fear it had long tried to forget.
Above the world, high in the divine palace floating amidst golden clouds and sacred fire, chaos reigned. Alarms that hadn't rung in millennia screamed like banshees across the heavenly halls. Bells forged by time itself shattered as they tolled.
The Supreme Deity Council had convened—but there was no order.
Gods argued. Angels wept. The stars themselves flickered as if uncertain whether to shine or hide.
> "It's impossible!" roared Velkarion, the God of War. His crimson armor pulsed with fury. "The seals were eternal! Bound by the Law of Origin! How can Azrion walk again?!"
Solvannis, the Ancient God of Wisdom, slowly rose from his obsidian throne. His voice was hoarse—almost reverent.
> "Because Azrion… was never a being we sealed. He was a force. You cannot seal gravity. You cannot seal silence. You cannot seal... consequence."
Silence gripped the room.
Then the divine floor beneath their feet cracked.
Gasps rippled through the chamber as golden marble shattered, leaking liquid light. Statues of the Firstborn Gods cried tears of ash. The Great Flame that never dimmed flickered for the first time in eternity.
Velkarion gritted his teeth.
> "He's already touching the edge of the divine plane…"
Far below, on the mortal realm's highest peak, Azrion stood like a storm wrapped in flesh. The mountain beneath him cracked and floated, as if trying to pull away from his presence. His eyes were half-closed, gazing toward the heavens.
He didn't need to shout. The world simply heard him.
> "I smell your fear, gods. Even from here."
His voice was calm, but the sky wept. Clouds split in half. Lightning coiled above him like serpents without masters. His wings were not made of feathers—nor flame—but of void itself. Each beat of them whispered memories of starless nights and forgotten screams.
Kael, buried deep inside Azrion's awakened soul, trembled.
> "So much fear… It's like the entire world is drowning in it," Kael whispered.
> "They should," Azrion answered softly within him. "They played with balance. Now, balance plays with them."
Kael clenched his fists inside the soul space.
> "You were hurt once… weren't you? By them."
Azrion didn't reply. But Kael saw it—flashes of pain, betrayal, and the endless void where his people once lived. A child born with infinite power, cursed to live without a race, without a home.
Back in the divine palace, panic turned to desperation.
The Celestial Commander barked orders.
> "Deploy the Divine Hunters! All twelve! Arm them with celestial cores! Do it now!"
The gates of the upper sky opened.
Twelve beams of sacred light descended, each one brighter than the sun. Each one carrying a weapon that could erase worlds.
The Divine Hunters were coming.