Long ago, in a time of turmoil, the world was ravaged by the Demon God Zarkhael. His power was unmatched, and for years, he ruled over the Demon Realm of Noctyros, bringing chaos and destruction to the mortal world. Kingdoms fell, villages were erased, and the people could only watch in despair as Zarkhael's forces overwhelmed everything in their path.
But the combined strength of the Seven Elemental Warriors—wielders of the ancient powers of Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, Shadow, and Spirit—brought hope. Together, they sealed Zarkhael away, casting him into the desolate void of Noctyros, where he would remain trapped for centuries. Peace returned to the world, and the realms rebuilt their walls, their cities, and their lives. But Zarkhael's dark influence never fully disappeared.
Generations passed, and the world moved on. But in the shadows, a prophecy had been whispered.
A red moon would rise, and a child of royal blood would be born. A child who could either bring about the end of the world or become the one to destroy Zarkhael once and for all. This child was said to carry the power to either become Zarkhael's vessel, allowing him to return to the mortal world, or to be the key to his final destruction, forever breaking the demon's reign.
As the prophecy spread, the Ruling Council of the Five Empires was thrown into disarray. Mages, Lords, and advisors from every corner of the world gathered in secret councils. Debates were fierce, and the once-celebrated prophecy was now viewed with fear. The birth of the child was not a cause for celebration—it was a cause for dread.
But to the common people, all they knew was that their beloved Emperor of Jinjin Empire had announced the arrival of an heir to the throne. The news of the royal birth was met with joy and excitement, as the citizens celebrated the continuation of their royal bloodline. To them, the child was a symbol of hope and prosperity—a future ruler who would lead their land into a new era of peace and growth.
Meanwhile, the Emperor of Jinjin Empire, the most powerful ruler among the Five Empires, stood in the eye of the storm, his thoughts clouded by the impending arrival of the child. The Empress, pregnant with their first-born child, carried the weight of the prophecy on her shoulders.
The Emperor, torn between duty and fatherhood, knew that if the prophecy were true, his child could either bring salvation or become the world's undoing. He understood the realm's fears, and the growing unrest. Many had already called for the death of the child before it was even born, to prevent the prophecy from being realized.
In a private chamber, the Empress stood before the Emperor, her eyes filled with determination. She was firm in her belief that their child should not be condemned before even taking a breath. She could not allow their royal bloodline to be stained by such a decision.
The Emperor, a man of wisdom and strength, spoke first, his voice heavy with uncertainty.
Emperor: "If this prophecy is true… if this child carries the power of Zarkhael, we may not have a choice. The realm is already on edge. There are whispers of death, assassination attempts. I cannot risk the fate of our people on such uncertainty."
Empress: Softly, but firmly: "It is our child. Our flesh and blood. You cannot simply erase him because of a prophecy. You are the Emperor, and you carry the weight of the realm, but you are also a father. A father who should protect his own."
Emperor: "But what if the prophecy is true? What if we allow him to live and he becomes the end of us all? The realm, our people… the world."
Empress: Her voice shaking, but resolute: "We cannot make that decision for him. What if he is the one who ends Zarkhael's reign, not bring it? What if this child… is the one who saves the world instead? We must raise him, guide him. Give him the chance to change the fate that has been cast upon him."
The Emperor's gaze softened as he looked into his wife's eyes. This was their child. This was a future uncertain and full of peril, but he could not bring himself to make a decision that would seal his child's fate before even knowing what the child could become.
Emperor: In a low voice: "And if it turns out that we are wrong… and this child brings only ruin?"
Empress: "Then we will face it together. But we cannot condemn him before he has even taken his first breath. We have to believe that, despite the prophecy, the world can still be shaped by those who guide it. And we, as his parents, have the power to shape his future."
There was a long silence as the Emperor weighed the words of his wife. His heart was torn—he knew the fears of his people, the dangers that lay ahead if the prophecy were true. But the Empress was right. He could not destroy his own child without giving him a chance.
Finally, the Emperor nodded, his decision made.
Emperor: "We will raise the child, as a royal heir, as our blood. And we will protect him, no matter the cost. But we will keep him hidden, for now. Until the time comes to face the truth of the prophecy."
With a final nod, the Emperor turned to the emissaries in the court, those who had been pushing for the child's death.
Emperor: "The child will live. But know this—the future is uncertain, and we will not allow fear to guide our decisions. We shall face whatever comes, together."
Meanwhile, in Noctyros:
In the dark, endless expanse of the Demon Realm, a figure stirred.
Zarkhael, the Demon God, was aware. His eyes, glowing with dark energy, opened as he felt the birth of the child. His lips curled into a sinister smile as he whispered to the darkness around him.
"The time has come. The prophecy is set into motion. I shall be reborn, or perhaps… I will take a more fitting form. One that will destroy this world from the inside out."
With a smirk spreading across his demonic face, he whispered one final, chilling sentence to himself:
"Let the Emperor's decision be the beginning of the end."