Chapter 128: The Veil Between Gods
The realm of Aetherion trembled—not from war or calamity, but from something far deeper, far older. A whisper surged through the veins of creation, a breath exhaled from beyond the known cosmology. The Supreme Thrones stirred in their slumber, and in the Eternal Citadel, Kael sat motionless upon his floating throne of radiant dusk, his eyes fixed on the shimmering anomaly that had formed in the sky above the capital of Virethaal.
It was not a crack.
Not a portal.
Not a spell.
It was… a Veil—one that had never before been touched by mortals or immortals. It pulsed with the breath of something far beyond comprehension.
The Authority of Existence, which Kael had already begun to master, trembled in his soul as if a superior force was now observing him.
He rose.
Without speaking, Elenai appeared at his side, her aura drenched in divine luminescence, her wings unfolding like endless rivers of starlight. Behind her, the newly-awakened Supreme Being, Valtherion—the Forgotten Warden of the Axis Void—approached with silence, his presence bending even the light in reverence.
"You feel it too," Kael murmured.
Elenai nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "It is not from this plane. Not even from the mirror realms. It... observes."
"And waits," Valtherion added, his ancient voice like rumbling thunder restrained within a cathedral of silence.
The Veil shimmered again.
From its depths, a hum—then a voice. No words, no language—yet every soul across every world in the realm of Threads heard it in their own tongue.
"Do you dare remember?"
A surge of pressure struck Kael's heart, pulling fragments from his forgotten past—memories buried beneath countless cycles of reincarnation, layered by the laws of cosmic silence. His hands trembled.
A flash—Kael standing in a throne of flame, surrounded by thousands of kneeling Primordial Beings.
Another flash—Kael wielding a spear that pierced timelines, striking down a Celestial Tyrant whose death caused a nebula to collapse into eternal silence.
Then blackness.
Somewhere Else: The Temple of Hedin
Far from Aetherion, in the isolated outer ring of the Forgotten Stars, floated the Temple of Hedin—a paradox of existence built in a place where even light hesitated to pass.
Within it, bound in golden chains forged by Divine Paradox, was a figure—tall, radiating with power, yet imprisoned.
Hedin the Chrono-God, one of the original Keepers of the Flow, whose betrayal shattered the timeline known as the "Era of Memory," stirred awake.
His one visible eye flared open, bleeding time.
"The Heir has approached the Veil," he whispered. "And the Veil remembers."
From the walls of the temple, symbols long lost to mortal cognition shimmered alive. Chains cracked. A pulse of inverted time shattered the seals.
Hedin was free.
Back in Aetherion
Kael stood at the epicenter of a rising maelstrom. The Veil began to open—not fully, but like an eyelid halfway awakened. From the rift, not creatures, but concepts emerged.
Authority Fractures—living fragments of reality—descended like falling stars. These shards, when absorbed, granted Authority beyond Rank, beyond comprehension. But each came at a price: memory, mortality, or soul.
Kael caught one mid-air. It didn't burn. Instead, it merged with him.
[Evolution Detected: Authority Rank Ascended]
New Domain Acquired: The Unwritten Fate
His eyes flared with black-blue light as cosmic strings danced around his form. He saw not the present, but every potential present. Every death, every victory, every betrayal, every path he might walk.
Then…
A voice echoed—not from the Veil, but behind it.
"You were once one of us, Kael."
He turned.
A figure stepped forth.
Cloaked in robes woven from anti-light, with eyes reflecting a dead cosmos, the being introduced himself not with a name, but with a title.
"I am the Archivist of Forgotten Gods. And your Ascension has awakened the Judgment of the Old Covenant."
Kael's soul recoiled. The Old Covenant was myth, even among gods. A law written before time, enforced by beings who could erase existence from the multiverse like brushing dust from a book.
"I will not submit," Kael replied.
"You already did," the Archivist said. "You merely forgot."
Elsewhere: Hedin's March
Hedin crossed the Empty Vale, walking upon steps that formed beneath him. With every stride, time unraveled, birds flew backward, stars pulsed in reverse, and death became birth.
At his side was a blade not forged, but unwritten—made from timelines that were deleted before they could exist.
"The boy will need a reminder," Hedin whispered. "Of what he is… and what he left behind."
He gazed up at the stars. "The Council of Origin will not sit idle. Let the gods prepare, for the forgotten is returning."
Final Scene: The Throne Room
Kael returned to the Eternal Citadel. His throne no longer hovered—it floated above cause and effect, untouched by time or logic.
Behind him, Elenai and Valtherion exchanged glances. Neither could read his heart now. He was... changing.
A portal formed in front of Kael, shaped like an hourglass.
From it stepped Hedin.
Kael stood.
The air grew silent.
The first meeting between the Reborn God-King and the Exiled Chrono-Deity was not of words, but of gazes that shattered worlds.
And in that moment, the Cosmic Balance was tipped.
To be continued in Chapter 129: The Echo of the Forgotten War