I'm gonna keep this chapter short. I'm gonna try get the other chapters word count to be no more than 3000 and no less than 2500.
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In the heart of a forest, a large crater lay nestled among the trees, its jagged edges silhouetted against the twilight sky.
At the center, a figure stirred, slowly rising from the depths of his disorientation.
Aurelius von Sovereign, once a king revered and feared, now found himself sprawled on the cold, uneven ground, the remnants of his former glory lingering like a ghost.
Aurelius blinked against the fading light, his mind racing to comprehend his surroundings. How could this be?
The last thing he remembered was the clash of swords, the roars of battle echoing in his ears, and the betrayal of those he had once called loyal.
He had fought for twelve long years, a relentless struggle against rebellion and treachery, only to fall at the hands of those he had sought to rule. But here he was, alive, in a crater that felt like a prison.
"Is this the fabled afterlife?" he wondered, a flicker of disbelief sparking within him.
He shifted, pushing himself onto his elbows and surveying the crater's rim. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a reminder of the life that surrounded him. But it felt foreign, like a world he no longer recognized.
His thoughts turned inward as he recalled the final moments of his life. The betrayal had been swift, a calculated strike from those he thought he could trust.
'Fools,' he thought bitterly. "They believed they could rise against me, their king?"
The memory of their shouts, their accusations of tyranny echoed in his mind. "Tyrant! Monster!"
The words twisted in his chest, igniting a familiar anger. He had ruled with strength, demanding respect and loyalty, and yet, they had turned on him.
'I was a king, a sovereign! They should have feared me!' His pride swelled, momentarily drowning out the weight of his situation.
But as he focused on his surroundings, reality began to sink in.
Aurelius concentrated, attempting to summon the power that had once coursed through his soul—a power that had made him a legend among mortals and gods alike. Yet, as he reached for it, a cold realization washed over him.
"What is this?"
He felt that more than half soul was gone, reduced to mere one-fifth of the total he had spent a few centuries cultivating.
Panic surged through him as he grasped the extent of his diminished strength. "This is impossible!"
He struggled to stand, his body feeling heavy and unresponsive, as if shackled by invisible chains.
"Only twenty percent," he muttered, his voice hoarse and filled with disbelief.
"Twenty percent of what I was…" His heart raced, a mix of anger and despair. 'How could this happen?'
The thought of being reduced to a fraction of his former self ignited a fire in his chest.
He staggered to his feet, the ground beneath him uneven and treacherous. The crater seemed to mock him, a stark reminder of his fall from grace. Once, he had commanded armies, led nations to glory, and instilled fear in the hearts of those who dared to oppose him.
Now, he stood in a pit, stripped of his power and dignity. The thought caused a growl of frustration to escape his lips.
As he steadied himself, Aurelius began to examine the world around him. The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls, yet it felt eerily quiet, as if holding its breath in reverence for his presence. 'This world… it's different,' he thought, a sense of unease creeping into his mind.
He took a step toward the crater's edge, peering down at the trees that towered above him. The vibrant greens and browns felt foreign, the serenity of the forest contrasting starkly with the chaos that had defined his reign.
'What have I become?' he thought, a flicker of doubt gnawing at his pride. 'Am I still a king? Or merely a shadow of my former self?'
His thoughts turned to his subjects, the people who had once revered him and then condemned him. 'They thought I was a tyrant,' he reflected.
'But I was a ruler who demanded loyalty and respect! They were weak, unworthy of the throne I had built for them.' The bitterness of betrayal still stung, and he felt anger surge within him once more.
Aurelius focused on the landscape, He spread his consciousness outward searching for a sign of civilization, a hint of the power he once wielded.
Due to his power now being a fraction of what it once was, it spread across 2 kilometers in radius where he sensed a large cluster of souls and a few small sediments in between.
'If I am to reclaim my throne…No! I will not follow that path and rule weaklings anymore.'
'My ultimate goal from now on is to reclaim my strength and live the way I want'
He steeled himself, determination replacing despair. He would not be defeated; he would rise again, even if it meant starting from nothing.
With a newfound resolve, he scaled the steep walls of the crater, he did a short distance teleport which took a bit of effort as space element was not his forte. Each cast was a reminder of his weakened state, but he pressed on, driven by the fire of his ambition.
As he reached the rim, Aurelius paused, taking a moment to catch his breath. The forest spread out before him, a beautiful expanse of life, yet it felt hostile, as if the very trees were watching him with judgmental eyes.
He could sense the energy of the world around him, a vibrant force that pulsed beneath the surface. I must study this energy, he thought, a plan beginning to form in his mind.
As he was familiarizing himself with the world, he thought to survey his state of being.
'My robe is intact, all my wounds are healed so my only problem should be my power. Since I don't know this world or the strength of its inhabitants, I should be careful.'
As he rose to his feet, Aurelius took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh, earthy air. He felt the energy of the forest pulsating around him, a symphony of life that resonated with his own essence.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the rhythm of the world, the heartbeat of the earth beneath him.
'If I am to regain my power, I must adapt,' he thought. 'This world is not my world anymore. I will learn its ways, its magic, and its secrets.'
The determination surged within him, a burning flame that dispelled the shadows of doubt that had crept into his mind.
As he opened his eyes, Aurelius scanned the surroundings, spotting a narrow path that wound through the trees. 'Adventure awaits,' he thought, a thrill coursing through him.
'I may have stripped me of my power, but it cannot take my will. the will of I, Aurelius von Sovereign.'
With a firm resolve, he began to walk down the path, each step a declaration of his intent. The forest enveloped him, the shadows whispering tales of ancient warriors and lost kings, but Aurelius was undeterred. He would carve his own legend, one that would echo through the ages.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden rays through the trees, illuminating his path. Aurelius felt a surge of energy, a flicker of hope igniting within him. He was still alive, still breathing, and still capable of greatness.
He readied himself, enveloping his body in his soul energy and with a *BOOM*, He took off at Mach 1.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, his arrival has sparked an interest with the gods of the world who sensed an unusual divinity.
Freya's Observatory—
Freya leaned against her balcony, silver hair cascading like moonlight. Her divine senses prickled-a soul, fractured yet radiant, pulsed at the city's edge.
She closed her eyes, savoring the taste of his aura: pride, rage, and the bitter tang of fallen glory.
"Oh, my dear..." she purred, her voice a velvet blade. "What "have"you lost?" Her divine mirror glowed, reflecting Aurelius's majestic figure.
She traced his silhouette, already plotting how to claim him. A wounded soul? It would bleed beautifully.
Loki Familia's Tavern—
Loki slouched at a tavern table, ale sloshing in her grip. A sudden ripple in the divine ether made her ears twitch. She grinned, sharp and wolfish.
"Oi, Finn," she called, elbowing her prum captain. "Somethin' tasty's heading towards town. Smells like a dumpster fire wrapped in gold."
Finn's brow furrowed. "A new god?"
"Nah," Loki drawled. "This one's... "spicier." Betcha Freya's already droolin'" She snickered, already scheming how to stir the pot.
Hephaestus' Forge—
Hephaestus paused, her hammer hovering over molten steel. The air thrummed—a foreign energy, raw and jagged, scraped against her senses. She frowned, adjusting her eyepatch.
"Not a god... but not mortal either," she muttered. Her apprentice, Tsubaki, glanced up.
"Trouble, Lady Hephaestus?"
"Potential," she corrected, resuming her work. "Or a disaster." Either way, she'd need stronger steel.
Hermes' Caravan—
Hermes lounged atop a merchant wagon, hat tipped low. His grin widened as a familiar tremor danced up his spine-chaos, ripe for exploitation.
"Asfi," he sang, nudging his captain. "Be a dear and scout the east gate. We've got a VIP incoming."
Asti adjusted her glasses, unamused.
"Another "project"?"
"Oh, this one's special. Smells like royalty." He winked. "And royalty "always" needs friends."
Hestia's Church—
Hestia froze mid-bite, her potato snack forgotten. A cold shiver raced down her spine-a presence, arrogant and unyielding, pressed against the city's wards.
"Bell..." she whispered, glancing at her sleeping adventurer. 'Please, let this not be another Freya.'
The Pantheon's Whisper—
Gods drifted toward Babel Tower, drawn by the anomaly. Ganesha's boisterous laugh echoed through the halls.
"A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES!" he bellowed, striking a pose. "GANESHA'S DRAMA SENSE TINGLES!"
Dionysus swirled his wine, eyes glinting.
Ouranos, shrouded in shadows, said nothing. But his gaze lingered eastward, where Aurelius's soul shone majestically with a tinge of shadow.