The scent of smoke and divine blood hung in the air like incense from a dying god's altar.
Screams echoed in the distance — not from the prisoners, but from their captors. Etheris, the floating jewel of the Upper Realm, had become a battlefield. Broken chains lay in the dust, and so did bodies — guards, nobles, enforcers — all fallen under the hand of a single boy.
A boy who wore the face of a dead soldier, the name of a coward, and the soul of a forgotten king.
Luv stood before the shattered gates of the soul-furnace, eyes glowing faintly like dying embers. Behind him, thousands of prisoners were fleeing through the cracked tunnels he had opened with blood and bone. The sky above was darkening, storm clouds pulling together unnaturally — as if the multiverse itself was holding its breath.
"Stop them!" a voice bellowed.
The High Judge of Etheris had arrived.
He was a massive creature clad in golden obsidian armor, with four arms and a voice like molten rock. In his hand, he held a staff forged from the spine of a condemned demigod.
"You—child—stand aside," the Judge thundered. "You are not Kael. Kael never had such eyes."
Luv tilted his head, not moving. "Kael is dead. I'm the shadow he left behind."
The Judge snarled. "Then I will end you like I ended him."
He raised the staff — and the sky cracked open.
The Judge surged forward with unnatural speed, his staff carving through the air. Luv dodged low, sliding across the ground and twisting up with a strike to the Judge's ribs — but the armor was too dense. Sparks flew.
The Judge's second pair of arms caught Luv mid-motion, slamming him into the wall with the force of a comet. Cracks exploded through the stone.
But Luv didn't scream.
He only muttered, "That all you got?"
In the shadows, the freed prisoners watched in horror. Some tried to rush back to help, but Luv's voice rang out:
"Run! That's an order!"
They obeyed — because in that moment, he didn't sound like a boy.
He sounded like a war god.
Luv stood, blood trickling from his temple. He was still holding back — still refusing to unseal the full extent of his power. If he did, the gods would know. The seals would shatter. The curse might wake. The multiverse would burn.
But without power, he was only a boy with skill and fury.
And fury wasn't enough.
The Judge's strikes became faster, harder, divine energy lacing every blow. Luv's body began to slow. His ribs cracked. His left arm went numb.
"I see you now," the Judge grinned. "You're one of them… a sealed one. But it doesn't matter. You'll die like a mortal."
Luv laughed weakly, spitting blood.
"Maybe I will. But mortals… die standing."
He charged one final time — not to win, but to stall. Every second he fought was another soul escaping through the furnace tunnels.
Suddenly, a whisper of violet light cut through the battlefield.
A blast of starlight struck the Judge's shoulder, staggering him back for the first time.
Luv turned.
Aira.
She stood atop the high wall in her ceremonial robe, hair tied back, eyes cold and unreadable. The crowd of nobles behind her gasped in disbelief. Was she betraying the city?
No.
Not yet.
"Leave him," Aira said coolly. "You're not authorized to execute the condemned without trial."
The Judge growled, "He's not condemned — he's the one condemning us."
"I know," she said. "That's why I'm giving him the stage. Let's see what your empire does when its victims fight back."
She threw a crystal to Luv — a soul-core, glowing with raw energy. It would heal him for a few minutes… nothing more.
He caught it, stunned.
"Why?" he asked.
Aira smirked faintly. "I hate this city. Always have. But that doesn't mean I like you."
Then she turned her back — and vanished into the smoke.
The soul-core burned through Luv's veins, restoring just enough strength for him to stand tall.
But he knew something now — something terrible.
Aira's arrival… her message… it wasn't mercy. It was a test. She wanted to see what he would do next. Would he run? Or would he finally unleash what he was?
The furnace behind him roared — a pillar of flame and screaming souls rising into the sky. The city ran on this machine. Every day, thousands of lower-realm lives were burned here to empower the ruling class.
And it would keep running… unless someone stopped it.
Luv looked at the inferno, then at his trembling hand.
He knew what he had to do.
He reached into his soul — into the sealed vault of his power — and grasped one of the seven core authorities that had once belonged to EL.
His hand closed around it.
A quiet voice whispered:
"If you give this up… it's gone forever."
He nodded.
"Let it burn."
The ability he gave up was Soul Weaving — the power to manipulate and forge souls, both weapon and wisdom. It had made him a creator in a previous life. A god of memory and spirit.
He surrendered it.
The seal broke. The ability vanished.
And in its place, raw divine energy exploded from Luv's chest — not with creation, but destruction.
He hurled it into the furnace.
The entire mountain quaked.
The soul-furnace cracked — and then shattered — unleashing centuries of stolen spirits in a cataclysmic storm.
The sky bled silver.
The High Judge screamed as thousands of vengeful souls tore through the air, searing the divine chains that bound the city's foundation.
Etheris was no longer stable.
It was falling.