The air tore open above the palace like a parchment being shredded from the heavens themselves. Laughter dripped into their world from the other side. All heads turned upward. The realm beyond that rift was unmistakable.
Mopheria, The dimension of gods.
Inside the rift were golden-tinted skies, glassy obsidian landscapes and some temple in front of them. It looked almost like a realm pulled from a celestial dream until they saw the thrones of bone, the burning halos and the twisted divinity that throbbed like a tumor under its surface.
Floating in the center of it all was a Second Generation Deity, radiant and resplendent in golden armor laced with frost. His cape was a storm of ice shards that danced behind him like snowflakes. His beauty was carved from the chill of glaciers yet everything about him screamed death. He clapped slowly, each echo of his hand reverberating through the realms like the toll of a frozen bell.
"Asenane, oh, Monarchess Asenane. You actually got it right."
Everyone's blood ran cold. Asenane herself stumbled a step back, her expression freezing in real-time.
'I... I was bluffing. I made that up...'
The golden god tilted his head and smiled.
"You don't believe that I made your husband like that? Well then, allow me to confirm it for everyone here."
He spread his arms wide and the skies of Mopheria pulsed behind him with an aurora of divine frost.
"Your Vastarael Richinaria, your precious little Third Enlightenment husband, was practicing an ancient technique. One crafted by his mother, that old Hydroborn tactician. Admirable, even. And he succeeded. He recreated the technique but it left his soul and body exposed and vulnerable to... specific elements."
His fingers glimmered and with a flick, a snowflake emerged and hovered midair.
"Mine."
He blew on the flake gently, and the entire continent in Amaniya dropped in temperature.
"I am Aivion Glacien, the God of Winter. And I used my Divinity to freeze his life functions, soul and all metaphysical anchors. So yes, that coma? That stillness?"
He snapped his fingers.
"That's me."
The air almost shattered from the silence that followed.
"Three days ago, you say? That's when winter re-entered your world. That was not just coincidence not just seasonal change. That's my frost. And it's still growing, even now."
Adelasta's fists clenched. "You bastard."
Aivion ignored her. He turned his eyes toward Anamorsia next.
"The Monarch's sister bought you time, you know."
The God's eyes gleamed.
"Sweet, beautiful Anamorsia Richinaria. Years ago, she brought nine of our Third Generation Divines to defeat and forced them to swear. She made them bow under Spheraphase's own name. As long as those nine Divines still live, we will not move. We would not make war on Spheraphase no matter what until seven years were over."
He began laughing softly. The smile dropped.
"Oh, how noble. But what if they were dead?"
And then it hit. The fear swept through the room like an avalanche. If those nine Divines died, the vow would break.
"They're going to kill the Last Phalanx..." Elyonari whispered.
Aivion's eyes narrowed. "Took you long enough."
"Would you kill their own kind just for this?" Natalis asked in anger.
"Yes."
That's when the scene changed. Behind him, the landscape of Mopheria shifted.
A long black platform extended across the skies, and upon it knelt nine Divine figures, bound in chains. They were bloodied, bruised, but still alive for now. Each of them was held down by massive iron spears impaling the ground beside them. Eight gods were standing behind them, ready to watch their children about to die. Aivion stepped aside, revealing a divine executioner. It was a faceless god. He lifted a massive scythe. It was a weapon that could kill souls as well as bodies.
"Shall we begin the ceremony?"
"NO!" Adelasta shouted. "Why would you kill your own children?!"
"Does it matter? You're going to watch this live, my friends. Watch the price of your unity. Watch what happens when you finally begin to understand the rules we made centuries ago."
Asenane's legs trembled. Denisia clutched Natalis' hand. Farrynelle's lightning sparked at her fingertips uncontrollably. Eldrigan snarled, shaking.
Peroncerea whispered, "They're really going to kill them..."
Elyonari just stared in shock. Her brother Veylonar looked like he'd swallowed poison. The entire court were trapped in a silence more terrible than screams. Because they all knew if the nine Divines were killed, the world would burn in the Mopherian storm. They could not go inside the rift because it was suicide.
The blade fell.
Each head of the Last Phalanx dropped to the floor with a hollow, final thud. Their divine chains clinked softly, drowned beneath the slow echo of the faceless god's footsteps. And yet, the nine Divines smiled. Some had tears of peace. Others had defiance but all smiled. Even as their bodies slumped forward in eternal silence, their heads landed upright, facing forward, as if proud of their end.
Blood pooled in halos. It wasn't red. It shimmered in gold that sang low and mournful as it soaked into the stone beneath them.
A bond shattered. Everyone in the room felt it. It was like a great string tied to every heart was suddenly cut. Anamorsia's eyes widened. She coughed violently as golden blood spilled down her lips as she collapsed to her knees. Her hands trembled against the floor as cracks of light shimmered beneath her skin. Adelasta and Asenane rushed forward, holding her up, but even touching her burned.
Adelasta hissed, barely holding her as the backlash surged. Asenane looked up.
"No..."
Above them, Aivion, the God of Winter, laughed.
"You fools thought you could play board games with gods? The Last Phalanx is gone. The vow that kept Mopheria at bay has died with them. And now..."
He raised his hand. The rift expanded like a monstrous bloom.
Hundreds of thousands of faceless beings of the Divine Rank. Chariots were pulled by giant serpents. And leading them were eight titanic beings, the parents of the fallen Phalanx. They were old gods with golden tears in their eyes. Beneath them were the first wave of destroyers.
But then, laughter destroyed the fear and chaos.
Anamorsia was laughing.
Her blood still fell from her mouth but her eyes had gone golden. Six massive angel wings erupted from her back, tearing through fabric and air alike. They were grand. The force of her Divine Presence knocked several people back.
She smiled like death itself.
"You really thought I didn't know? You think I would make a vow with a loophole I hadn't plan for?"
Aivion's laughter wavered.
"Oh, I knew the clause. I carved it into existence myself. Kill the Last Phalanx and the vow collapses. That was expected. But what makes you think I wanted peace? I didn't need seven years of peace. That was the decoy."
She raised her hand.
"You played your hand too early, Winter God. And I'm glad the rift is open for others to witness this."
The floor shook violently. In the distance, hundreds of bells began to ring but they weren't bells from the hall. She looked straight at Aivion.
"You think they were my trump card? They were my signal."
Suddenly, nine colossal pillars of golden fire erupted from the corpses. Each blaze took the shape of the Divine's soul, roaring skyward through the breach. The faces of the Last Phalanx twisted with agony.
"No soul from the Third Generation can die while tethered to my plan because I never meant for them to live. They were the bomb that would be unleashed upon their deaths once they came to your realm. And you just brought me collateral damage."
The screams began.
From Mopheria's side, several chariots exploded as the golden pillars struck through the rift. Divine beings combusted in mid-air. One of the gods screamed as his golden armor began to melt. Others fled, turning their divine mounts, but the air had begun to seal behind them.
Aivion took a step back.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
Anamorsia tilted her head. Her hair now floated unnaturally.
"I infected them. I let the Last Phalanx live for one purpose only. They were to die and carry my plague."
The heads on the floor suddenly opened their eyes and smiled again. Their mouths moved in unison.
"Long live Spheraphase."
Every Divine near the breach was swallowed in a singularity of divine decay. Thousands of Mopherian armies began to scream, fall or vanish entirely. Aivion tried to close the rift. He couldn't. The curse of the First Generation still held him back. He could only watch helplessly as his army collapsed one after another, falling like roaches sprayed with holy beams.
Anamorsia stepped forward. Her wings tore the throne room's walls apart just by being unfurled. Her smile turned into something that wasn't quite normal anymore.
"You thought the Second Generation that came to Spheraphase was cursed? They chose exile because we were building something that needed blood to bloom."
She looked at Aivion like how a mother pities a child.
"I didn't want peace. I wanted a trap and you stepped right into it. If there's one good thing about you gods, it's your ego. And I relish every second of it when you underestimate Spheraphasians."
She raised her hands again and every being in the throne room heard it. A realm was being attacked.
Mopheria was burning.