In a world with two red moons as natural sources of light.
A single enormous palace was the only thing to be seen. The palace was made with obsidian material, making it look darker than black, and it gained the name "Abyss," that was what most beings know it as.
Daimon Khaos—The owner of the Abyss, a powerful male whose name instills fear in those who hear it.
Daimon could be seen sitting leg-crossed on a mat eyes closed. An ominous violet aura surrounded his entire body, emanating from him.
After a few seconds of meditation, his body sucked in the violet energy—absorbing it. Then his eyes opened. In his vicious obsidian eyes, one could see that he was disappointed about something.
He thought to himself. The world trembled from the rage of his thoughts, an earthquake because of a single thought.
He stood to his feet, imposing a commanding 2.7 meters in height. Daimon's appearance was the embodiment of what a demon looked like.
With two obsidian horns that protruded from his forehead, black hair, obsidian eyes, crimson red skin, and a linear athletic build.
****
After an hour.
An army of mighty beings could be seen levitating over the Abyss Palace, a heavenly malevolent aura emitted from the army, as though to let their presence be known.
Daimon felt the presence of the army, and could even identify every single one of them. How could he not know the very beings that seemed to have been created solely to annoy him? They were a hindrance Daimon won't be able to eliminate due to his current halved power.
The Heavenly Alliance
An association of Deities created solely to eliminate beings that could potentially disrupt the natural order.
The Heavenly Alliance is an association that has lasted for millions of years. It is known for its accuracy in dealing with beings that disturbed the natural order, whether righteous or evil. This association did not choose between its targets.
Thus, most beings, whether deity or mortal, made sure to never get on the bad side of this association—but there were a few hundred beings who still disrupted the natural order, and the most well-known and top wanted disrupter was none other than Daimon Khaos.
Daimon was known by countless divine titles—The God of Demons, The Crimson Monarch, The Cradle of Chaos...and only a few in existence know he's actual divine title was—The Original Sin.
Even among the Heavenly Alliance, only the Leader knew of the origin behind this title.
****
Daimon teleported to the front of the Heavenly Alliance, looking at the leader of the Heavenly Alliance directly in her eyes.
"Well, if it isn't Destinia, or should I say The Original Virtue?"
Daimon said with a smug.
Destinia was none other than the Goddess of Destiny and Fate, though her true divine title was—The Original Virtue. She's also the only person who could be considered Daimon's equal or some might say—rival.
Destinia's face was no different from Daimon's expression whenever he thought of the Heavenly Alliance—an expression of complete annoyance and frustration.
"Come on, the least you could do is to be happy to see me...even if your intentions are to kill me."
—Wheeze
She breathed in...
—Huff
She breathed out..
"Daimon, you are hereby charged with the crime of disrupting the..."
Daimon interrupted.
"Are you going to say that every time we meet? I already know my crimes, and I know my punishment is death, now, why don't we just skip that part and get to the fighting part?"
"How dare you interrupt the miss whilst she's speaking!!"
One of the Deities next to Destinia shouted, his voice was filled with rage, causing the world to quake—the quake was not as powerful as the former that was created by Daimon, but was nonetheless powerful.
The Deity that shouted was none other than Luminareth—God of Light, the Righteous God. Destinia's right-hand man.
Daimon's eyes shifted from Destinia, his expression changed from the pretentious friendliness to a terrifying ferocious face. Not only that, but his obsidian eyes were filled with uncontrollable rage aimed at Luminareth, the wraighful aura surrounding Daimon was so pure that it sent shivers down everyone besides himself and Destinia.
Luminareth's entire being trembled, his instincts screamed at him to kneel down and beg for forgiveness—no, they pressured him to kneel and beg.
As he was doing so, Destinia's voice surfaced.
"Daimon, stop you, stop that, would you?"
Her tone was neither commanding nor angry, one might even mistake it for suggestions, like she was negotiating with Daimon.
That's part of the reason why most beings consider Destinia the kindest being in existence, and they weren't wrong with that—the only person she was not kind towards was Daimon.
Daimon's gaze shifted from Luminareth, but his attention was still there—his prideful nature allowed no disrespect, and that lowly being had disrespected him. How could he let it slide?
"Destinia, are you suggesting I let this fellow disrespect me?"
Destinia knew exactly what Daimon meant by this question; she knew Daimon and knew what letting someone disrespect him meant, but she wasn't about to let someone die in front of her.
Destinia ignored Daimon's question and repeated.
"Stop that."
This further increased the wrath in Daimon's being, at its uncontrollability, his body moved instinctively.
—Whoosh!
Daimon's body vanished. Only to be stopped by a defensive barrier that he hadn't noticed.
Upon noticing it, Daimon couldn't help but chuckle.
"Ha ha it ha, it's typical of you to be cautious. You had already cast the Aegis of Mercy before I even approached you."
Daimon may have appeared calm about the situation, but Destinia knew he inwardly despised it, and this would cause him to unleash his wrath in the form of The Crimson Ruin.
Destinia's calculations would have been accurate if it weren't for one oversight— a crucial element she had overlooked.
"I suppose it would have been foolish to underestimate a supreme being like myself."
"But it's equally naive to think that something as insignificant as this—" he said, tapping the defensive field with his finger, "would stop me."
His tone carried the weight of condescension, dripping with disdain.
> They caught me at a bad time... My power's halved, and even my Crimson Ruin form might not be enough to tip the scale.
> Am I really left with no choice...?
> How utterly disappointing... Destinia—what a shame. I won't even get the chance to fuck you.
That final thought echoed like a dark whisper in his own mind, laced with both regret and hunger.
At Daimon's unspoken command, the skies shuddered.
Clouds spiraled into unnatural formations, casting an ominous gloom upon the battlefield. The atmosphere thickened—viscous and suffocating—pressing against the skin like invisible chains.
A subtle but undeniable transformation began.
Daimon's aura, once tempestuous and wild, now coalesced—refined into a living shroud of malevolent desire. It wrapped around him like a second skin, breathing and pulsing with sentient hunger.
Though his physical appearance remained the same, something about him was off. His presence now radiated an unnatural weight, suffused with layered sensations—lust, wrath, supremacy. Every breath he took contaminated the very laws of divinity around him.
"Destinia, You brought this upon yourself—you'll regret ever crossing paths with me."
His voice was a cocktail of emotions—Lustful, Wraithful, Arrogant.
The gods who could hear his voice—felt their minds distort, intruded by suicidal thoughts.
Those kind of thoughts filled the minds of the Deities who had felt even a single sound wave from Daimon's voice.
The effect was instant, as the gods of the heavenly alliance turned rampant. Some turned to kill their comrades, whilst others killed themselves.
"Die!"
"Repent for your sins!!"
"Curse the Heavenly Alliance!!"
The soldiers of gods ran rampant, killing their comrades like mindless beasts, what be fell the skys was nothing short of horrific.
The blood of gods painted the earth.
Amused by the scene, Daimon turned to look at Destinia—he craved the look of despair that would be on Destinia's face.
Destinia watched as her comrades killed each other, the scene was nothing short of tragic—but the look on Destinia's face said otherwise.
She looked calm, one might even say too calm. She was not alarmed by this, she simply watched the tragedy unfold. Not even bothering to prevent this from going further.
Daimon was surprised by what he saw, the type of calmness she was displaying was clearly not normal.
Destinia as the Original Virtue was not supposed to behave like this, there's no one who is good willed that her, so why is she acting like this.
Daimon thought to himself.
"You did not expect my reaction, did you?"
Destinia asked, her voice with a hint of amusement.
Luminareth who was beside her, was also shocked by this but tried not show it.
Daimon on the other hand, was annoyed by her calmness. Why is she not falling into despair?
Then it was at that moment, the aura surrounding Destinia changed—similarly to Daimon's but with one key difference.
The aura she exuded was soothing and kind, unlike Daimon's ominous and venomous aura.
Her body became wrapped into a living starlight and layered timelines.
In her hands manifested a magical staff, one she had named—Lumenlance.
"Sisters."
With her call, multiple figures manifested. Future versions of herself, versions that had comparable power to powerful gods—though not as powerful as herself or Daimon.
And with their arrival came a divine balm across the battlefield.
A sacred calm spread like mist.
It was soft… but overwhelming. Gentle… yet absolute.
The maddened cries of the corrupted gods faltered. Their weapons dropped from trembling hands. Their murderous eyes blinked as clarity returned. The chaos began to recede, as if soothed by the very fabric of existence bending to Destinia's will.
But even as order returned, the battlefield remained painted in tragedy. Divine corpses littered the celestial plains. Halos cracked. Wings shattered. The cost of Daimon's voice had already been paid in blood.
Daimon sneered.
"You're trying to fix it, but it's too late. Their souls are already gone."
Destinia tilted her head gently, almost with pity.
"No, Daimon," she replied.
And then her voice lowered—not loud, but commanding.
"My comrades… never went rampant."
The moment the words left her lips, reality shattered like glass.
The blood disappeared.
The broken gods stirred.
Time reversed—but not as a simple rewind.
It unfolded.
A deeper truth reasserted itself as the corrupted events peeled away, revealing a hidden reality woven beneath Daimon's false influence. His corruption hadn't changed reality—it had only obscured it.
And Destinia, Goddess of Virtue, had never lost control.
The fallen gods stood again. Their eyes wide, their minds restored, as though waking from a long nightmare. Their bodies—healed. Their spirits—intact. Their loyalty—to Destinia, absolute.
A chorus of divine harmony echoed across the heavens as those once corrupted dropped to one knee in reverence, tears of shame and gratitude in their eyes.
Daimon's face twisted.
"You mean… you let me do all that?"
He clenched his jaw. "That calm… that stupid serenity of yours—was all because you had this ridiculous power in your back pocket?"
Destinia stepped forward, light rippling off her form like waves of stardust.
"Not a power," she said softly. "A responsibility."
Then her eyes met his, no longer gentle.
They burned.
"You call yourself a supreme being, Daimon, yet all you wield is fear, desire, and death."
"I am the Original Virtue. And even if all futures fall to ruin—I will always be the counterweight to your chaos."
Daimon's expression darkened further.
The game had changed.
And he hated it.