The sky tore open. Fire and lightning streaked across the horizon as summoners raised their hands, calling forth gods that shook the heavens. Colossal beings of stone, flame, and shadow materialized, their roars echoing like earthquakes. The ground quaked under their weight. Cities trembled. Even the wind seemed to bow before the display of raw divine power.
The crowd gasped and cheered. Gold and silver coins rained from balconies as bets were placed, fortunes won and lost in an instant. Spectators screamed names of favored summoners, shouting encouragement, fear, or outrage, depending on which god moved first.
And then, all eyes landed on one boy.
Alone. Unremarkable. With no god to call. Arin stood quietly at the edge of the arena, his dark eyes scanning the chaos without a flicker of fear. Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. "He's a null… worthless… he'll be crushed in a heartbeat."
He ignored them. His hands rested lightly on the ancient staff carved with intricate runes that shimmered faintly, as if waiting for the right moment. The crowd laughed. The summoners sneered. Every god in the arena looked down at him with curiosity, amusement, or mild annoyance.
Arin tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips. "Summon your gods," he said, voice calm, almost bored. "I'll summon worlds."
The arena fell silent. Then the earth itself answered. Dust and rocks rose, spinning into massive shapes that became mountains, rivers, and plains where none had existed before. From the ground, soldiers clad in shining armor appeared, banners snapping in the wind, forming legions larger than any army in memory. Cities sprouted like seedlings, walls rising from stone and timber, towers scraping the sky. Fleets filled the seas that had only moments ago been dry.
Shock rippled through the crowd. Gasps, screams, murmurs of disbelief. Gods, massive and mighty, halted mid-step, their eyes narrowing. No summoner had ever done this. No summoner had ever created civilizations.
Arin's power did not flow from worship or devotion. It flowed from creation itself. Every soldier, every city, every fleet became a node of strength in his dominion. Every victory, every brick raised, every banner planted increased his power exponentially.
Where others wielded gods, Arin wielded civilizations. Where others burned with ambition for divine favor, he burned with ambition for everything. And as he raised his hand, calling forth another legion, he knew one truth:
This was not the end. It was only the beginning.