The sky split open.

Thunder didn’t roll—it roared, howled, like a beast wounded by fate. The heavens bled crimson as celestial lightning arced through the skies, searing the firmament. Rain poured down, not water, but something heavier—mixed with ash and divine residue. Olympus itself trembled.

High upon the *Altar of Judgement*, chained by glowing celestial runes, knelt a boy.

*Kyrillos*.

Barefoot, beaten, and broken—not by combat, but by betrayal. His once radiant robes were in tatters, his body scorched with marks of restraint, divine bindings pulsing against his skin.

He was seventeen.

The boy once praised as the Prodigy of the Silver Flame, the Heir of the Celestial Phoenix Sect… now a heretic, condemned by those who once toasted his victories.

Around him stood the *Twelve Grand Houses*, their banners flapping wildly in the divine storm. Faces half-shadowed under golden helms and jeweled crowns, yet none dared look him in the eye. Only one figure, hidden in the rear, wept silently behind a silver veil—*Aphrodite*.

*Chapter 26: Into the Shadows of Alethea*  


The journey to Alethea was unlike any Kyrillos had ever undertaken. The air grew heavier with each step beyond the familiar borders of Thalorion. The landscape twisted into a realm of eerie beauty — jagged cliffs covered with shimmering, violet flora and rivers that glowed faintly under the moonlight.


As the party approached the ancient gates of Alethea, an overwhelming magical barrier shimmered before them, blocking their path.


Leonidas stepped forward and uttered a forgotten incantation, causing the barrier to ripple. From the shadows emerged towering stone sentinels—guardians of the city.


The air crackled with tension as the guardians moved, but instead of attacking, they bowed and allowed the group passage.


Inside, Alethea was a sprawling city frozen in time. Vines crept over ornate pillars, and statues of gods and heroes loomed in silence.


Sophia whispered, "This place... it feels alive."


Kyrillos nodded, feeling the pulse of ancient magic weaving through the stones.


Eirena led the group to the city's central archive — a cavernous library filled with scrolls and tomes untouched for centuries.


As they studied the texts, the shocking revelation emerged: The Primordial Order had been manipulating realms for millennia, using dark rituals to control fate itself.


Calliope, watching from the shadows, murmured, "And now they seek to complete the final ritual — a ritual that could enslave all souls."


Dimitri growled, "We must stop them at all costs."


Suddenly, a hidden chamber opened, revealing a glowing artifact — the Heart of Alethea.


Kyrillos reached for it, and as his fingers brushed the surface, visions flooded his mind: battles, sacrifices, and the fragile balance of light and darkness.


Sophia placed a hand on Kyrillos' shoulder. "This is more than a battle. It's our destiny."


Kyrillos stared into the glowing Heart, knowing the path ahead would test everything he believed in.
