Silence.
Thick.
Cloying.
It wasn't an absence of sound, but the quiet after a scream has been cut short.
On his throne, Arakin sat. Eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping. He was savoring.
A murderous intent hung in the air. You could taste it. It promised disassembly, down to the smallest part.
The room showed that promise kept.
The floor was a mess. Severed wings lay around like trash. They were once holy. Now they were just wet, bloody feathers. Limbs and other parts were scattered. It looked almost casual.
But the wall. The wall was the main event.
A pile of bodies reached the ceiling.Angels, warriors, beings of light—all thrown together in a heap. Their shiny armor looked stupid now. Useless. Like toys in a landfill.
A hole in the roof let in the light. This world's sun was always in eclipse. Blood-red light washed over everything. It made the scene look like a bad painting. The air smelled wrong. Metallic and burnt. A normal person would've lost their mind just standing here.
Arakin's lip twitched.
Not a smile.Something emptier.
He'd asked himself a question before: Who am I?
This room was one answer.It wasn't a good one.
---
Far from that nightmare, in the realm of the gods, things were supposed to be perfect. Eternal. Peaceful.
They weren't.
News had come. A slaughter. Angels wiped out. Not just foot soldiers—generals. A quiet panic had infected heaven. The light seemed dimmer. The hymns sounded like funeral dirges.
In the highest council chamber, the big shots were meeting. The place was beautiful. It hurt your eyes to look at it for too long.
King Anubish sat at the head of the table.He looked calm. But he was gripping his wine cup so hard his knuckles were white.
Nobody spoke. The silence was heavy.
Archmage Solarius finally broke it. "Arakin is a cancer," he said. His voice was sharp. "He's not just fighting us. He's eating our laws and getting stronger. Every second we talk, he digs in deeper."
Kratos, the War Minister, grunted. "And the demons are massing. Samon has united all the hells. They're at the borders, ready to spill through."
Another voice, shaky, added: "The Asura World has gone completely dark. No contact. Nothing."
Anubish let out a slow breath. "Arakin is the immediate problem. The demon is a brute, but he follows old rules. Arakin just… unmakes things. He comes first."
Then the palace shook.
It wasn't a tremor. It was a jolt. Like a giant had kicked the foundations. A sound followed—a horrible, shrieking horn blast that had no place here.
Chaos. Real, messy chaos, in the streets of heaven.
Angelic guards moved. Fast. They formed lines. A golden dome of light—the Aegis—snapped over the city. Just in time.
The sky tore. Not with light. With darkness. Demons poured out. The air turned bitter. Samon led them. He looked pleased with himself.
He pointed.
Hell's artillery fired.
Black projectiles slammed into the golden dome. It held. But it shuddered. Cracks webbed across it for a second, then healed. Each hit took a toll.
Anubish appeared in the sky, a beacon of calm fury. "Samon!" he roared. "You break the covenants!"
Samon floated forward, smirking. "I remember my father dying. I remember you watching." His voice was a gravelly whisper everyone heard. "This is a blood debt. Nothing more."
"You're a child with a sword," Anubish said, pity in his eyes. "You'll burn."
"Let's burn together," Samon hissed.
Anubish didn't move. A sword of pure law appeared in his hand. Then his Divine Domain unfolded. Reality straightened out around him. Demons at the edge of it just… dissolved.
Samon roared. His Demonic Domain erupted—a nightmare of screaming ghosts and molten rock. The two domains crashed together. The sound broke windows miles away. A storm of gold and purple lightning raged between them.
Then they were blurs, clashing in the sky.
War exploded below. A clean, brutal chaos.
And right then—at the peak of the clash—both domains shattered.
It wasn't from the fight. It felt like someone stepped on two bubbles. Pop. The laws of reality gave a sickening crunch. Anubish and Samon were thrown back, stunned.
Then came the laughter.
It was soft. It slithered into your head, not your ears. It was the coldest sound anyone had ever heard.
Every single being on the battlefield froze. The noise of war died.
They looked up.
A man was walking towards them. From the darkest rift in the sky. He just walked on the air, casual, like he was out for a stroll. It was Arakin.
The bloody sun lit him from behind. He cast a long, wrong shadow. A dark-red light bled from him, staining the air.
He stopped. Looked at the frozen armies. Looked at the two stunned kings. He put his hands behind his back. Like a tourist.
A slow smile spread across his face. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Well," he said. His voice was perfectly clear in the silence. "This is convenient."
He chuckled. A dry, hollow sound.
"Gods and demons. Both in one place." His red eyes gleamed. "Saves me the trip."
He looked right at Anubish and Samon.
"Don't let me interrupt," he said, too politely. "Please. Continue. I'll wait."
He didn't move. He just watched. Smiling.
The war was over. The war for heaven was no longer a two-sided affair. The third party had arrived, and he was the only one smiling. Something worse had just begun.