Darkness pressed around him — thick, endless, suffocating.
And from within that void… came the screams.
They weren't echoes.
They were memories.
Aelior stood again upon the burning fields of Erythros, the divine lands torn open like a dying heart. The skies bled gold and black. Rivers of living crimson burned into tar. The scent of smoke and death choked the air.
And there they were — Seth and Fernir — gods of ruin, towering above a collapsing world.
Seth's chains slithered across the earth, hissing with molten decay. Fernir's antlers scraped the heavens, his shadow splitting light itself. Together they moved through the divine realm like plague given form, tearing reality apart.
And beneath their gaze — his parents stood.
Selanyth's veins pulsed crimson through the air, birthing rivers that sang in sorrow. Kaerion's storm roared across the horizon, lightning splitting mountains in defiance. They stood shoulder to shoulder, gods of blood and sky — protectors of all creation.
And then — they fell.
Seth's withered hand brushed Selanyth's throat, and her rivers turned black, veins imploding inward. Kaerion's storms cried out as time itself aged them into dust.
They died trying to protect what was already gone.
Aelior screamed.
"STOP! PLEASE, STOP!"
But his body didn't move.
His legs locked, his arms limp. He tried to run, to fight, to reach them—
Nothing.
He was frozen, watching as his mother's crimson light flickered out, his father's storms died into silence.
His throat burned. His voice cracked.
"I can't— move— please— someone—"
The world only laughed back.
Seth turned slowly, his rusted grin stretching wide, eyes burning like dying stars. "You pathetic fool. You couldn't even move your own body — how were you ever going to protect them? You were born powerless… and you'll die powerless."
Fernir's laughter slithered through the void, sharp and cold. "Even your tears are useless, boy."
Aelior's cries fell silent.
His tears hit the ash.
And then, his trembling stopped.
He bowed his head — voice breaking, but colder now, deeper.
"You'll pay for this…"
A pause. His fists clenched.
"I swear it. I'll burn your names from the sky if I have to. You'll wish you had killed me sooner."
The air rippled. Even the gods paused — the powerless boy's words carried weight they couldn't name.
Seth's smile faltered. Rage coiled across his face. "Insolent wretch."
He raised his chained hand — each link screamed with decay, aiming straight for the boy's heart.
Aelior's eyes widened. "No… not again—!"
He threw his arms up on instinct, screaming,
"GO AWAY!"
Light exploded.
Reality tore.
The sound died.
Everything — went — still.
He opened his eyes to silence.
No sky. No gods. No blood.
Only darkness. Infinite, cold, alive.
"Where… am I?" His voice trembled, echoing in the void. "Why is it so dark? I can't see—"
Footsteps.
Dozens. No—hundreds.
Pounding through the black.
"Who's there!?" Aelior shouted, his voice cracking.
The steps drew closer — a growing tide of rhythm and dread. Then came a hiss, low and venomous. Torches burst to life one by one, revealing stone walls slick with damp and blood. Runes pulsed on the floor like open wounds, glowing red with something ancient.
He wasn't in the battlefield anymore.
He was in a dungeon.
Shadows slithered along the walls. Dozens of eyes blinked from the dark — red, yellow, hollow. Figures crawled from the corners, twisted bodies stitched from shadow and bone.
Aelior's heart pounded. "No… this can't be real."
One of the creatures lurched forward — its jaw unhinging in a scream that wasn't sound but memory.
Aelior stepped back, shaking. "S-St-Stay back!" he stammered.
The creature hissed louder and lunged — claws raised.
Aelior screamed — voice breaking through terror —
"DISAPPEAR!"
And the world obeyed.
The creature vanished mid-lunge, bursting into a cloud of black ash. Silence followed — thick, smothering, wrong. Aelior panted, wide-eyed. "It… it worked…" Relief flickered across his face.
Then came the others.
Dozens — hundreds — surging from the dark, their shrieks tearing through the chamber like knives.
"No… this can't be happening! Why me!? Why now!?"
He stumbled back, cornered by the swarm of horrors. Their claws glinted. Their shadows twisted into chains. And in that frozen heartbeat, he stopped resisting. His arms fell to his sides, his breath shallow.
Maybe this was fate.
Maybe he was meant to die here — powerless, forgotten.
He closed his eyes.
The air trembled.
And somewhere, deep within that darkness, something ancient stirred — golden, burning, waiting.