High above the mortal realm, in a place where reality bent like light through a prism, Seraphis observed. Once a god of storms, his form now shimmered between visibility and shadow, exiled from the celestial council for reasons only he remembered. Below him, the city pulsed with human life, unaware of the threads of fate moving around them.
Seraphis' eyes—a storm of violet and silver—fell upon Kael. The mortal prodigy's pulse carried an unusual signature, one that resonated with the energies of the Celestial Realm. Seraphis had not seen anything like it in centuries: raw potential, untamed and dangerous. A mortal, yes—but one with the spark of the divine.
The fallen god moved through the veils, watching as Kael wrestled with the strange anomaly on his holo-screen. The code shimmered in his apartment as though responding to Kael's thoughts, and the boy's heartbeat echoed faintly across the vast emptiness of the Celestial Realm.
Interesting, Seraphis murmured, his voice like rolling thunder. Very interesting.
The winds of the celestial currents shifted around him, carrying whispers from the other gods. They were aware of the disturbance, aware of the mortal who could bridge the gap between realms. Some feared him, some wanted to manipulate him. Seraphis alone remained undecided.
He knew the threads of fate were fragile. One wrong move, and Kael could become a puppet of forces far beyond his understanding. One right move, and he could reshape the balance of power entirely.
Seraphis' hand hovered over the veil, tracing the boy's movements. The thrill of anticipation surged within him. The game was beginning—and Kael, unwittingly, had just entered the board.