---
The sky above the Demon Realm had changed.
It was no longer just blue or red or dark with stars—it was now streaked with golden cracks that glowed like lightning trapped in the heavens. The gods were watching. Preparing. Waiting for Chirag to make his move.
Inside the Demon Castle, the war room was filled with tension. The flames in the torches flickered, shadows danced across maps and scrolls, and every face around the table held a mix of fear and hope.
Siya sat beside Chirag, her eyes scanning a large map of the realms. Raegor stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed and his voice firm.
"We don't have the numbers to fight them head-on," Raegor said. "Even with your powers, Chirag, we're still outmatched. We need more. We need allies."
Kael nodded. "The humans won't join us. They fear both demons and rulers. And the rulers—well, they live in the sky and pretend the world below doesn't exist."
Siya looked at Chirag. "Then what do we do?"
Chirag didn't answer right away. He looked down at his hands. One hand shimmered faintly with memory magic, the other pulsed with storm and flame. Three godly gifts… but still not enough.
"I know a place," he said finally. "It's dangerous. Old. Hidden. Even the gods fear it."
Everyone in the room turned toward him.
"It's called the Whispering Council."
Kael's face paled. "That's a myth. A legend demons tell their children to scare them."
"No," Chirag said quietly. "It's real. A place deep beneath the world where ancient beings live—neither god, demon, nor human. They're older than the gods. Forgotten by time. If anyone has the knowledge or power to help us… it's them."
Raegor's voice rumbled low. "And why would they help you?"
Chirag's eyes burned with fire and memory. "Because I carry their mark now."
---
The journey to the Whispering Council was like no other.
There were no roads. No maps. Only the scroll from Mnairos, which had changed again after Chirag received his third blessing. New symbols glowed across its surface, pointing to a place beneath the ocean of tears—a cursed sea between realms, known for swallowing ships and souls alike.
Chirag, Siya, and Kael traveled by air, flying on dark-winged beasts summoned by ancient demon magic. The sea below them shimmered like black glass, and lightning danced along its surface without a sound.
When they reached the center of the sea, the air grew cold. Time felt slower. Reality twisted.
Then they saw it—a massive stone hand rising from the water, its fingers curved like a claw reaching for the sky.
"That's it," Chirag said. "The entrance is in the palm."
They landed carefully, walking across the hand until they reached a round opening in the center of the palm. The hole led downward into darkness.
Without hesitation, Chirag stepped inside.
---
The descent was long and silent.
The tunnel curved like a spiral, with walls made of smooth obsidian. Whispering voices echoed around them—not in any known language, but they stirred feelings inside their hearts. Regret. Fear. Desire. Memories long forgotten.
Siya clutched Chirag's arm. "These voices… they're inside my head."
"They're testing us," Chirag said. "Don't listen. Just walk."
After what felt like hours, they reached a massive gate—black as the void, with thousands of runes glowing faintly across its surface. As Chirag stepped forward, the runes lit up one by one until the gate slowly opened.
Inside was a chamber unlike anything they had seen.
A circular hall, lit by floating orbs of golden light. And seated around it—dozens of beings, cloaked in robes of stars, shadows, or flowing mist. They had no faces. No forms. They were essence itself.
This was the Whispering Council.
Chirag stepped into the center of the chamber, bowing slightly.
"I am Chirag, Flame-Born, chosen by memory, storm, and fire. I seek your wisdom—and your help."
One of the beings rose. Its voice echoed like wind through trees and bells in a storm.
"You walk with power not meant for mortals. Why should we help you, child of broken fate?"
Chirag took a deep breath. "Because the gods plan to destroy the world below. They've already begun. They fear me—not because of what I am, but because of what I might become."
Another being spoke, its voice a whisper made of thousands of voices at once. "You seek war. But we are not warriors."
"I don't ask for war," Chirag said. "I ask for balance. Truth. The gods rule by fear and lies. They erased your names. Buried your knowledge. Help me bring it back."
The chamber fell silent.
Finally, the first being spoke again.
"There is a price."
Chirag nodded. "Name it."
"To unlock the final gate of power… you must offer your future. Your destiny will no longer be your own. You will walk a path that ends in silence."
Chirag looked at Siya. She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes.
"You don't have to—"
"I do," he said softly. "For us. For everyone."
He turned back to the Council. "I accept."
The chamber exploded with light. A symbol burned into the floor, ancient and vast, and the air filled with memory, fire, and storm. The Council began to chant in languages lost to time, and a final spark of energy surged into Chirag's chest.
He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
And when he rose, something in him had changed again.
He was more than a human, more than a demon's child, more than even a god's enemy.
He was a symbol.
A storm that would shake the heavens.
---
As they left the Whispering Council behind, the ocean began to churn and crack. The sky above them burned gold.
The gods had felt the shift.
And they were no longer watching.
They were coming.
---