The rain always came before something ugly happened in Aetherion.
That night, the clouds were a smear of gray against the cracked skyline. The air smelled like rust and burnt mana the kind that clings to the skin, whispering of battles and sins buried under city lights.
I was sitting on the rooftop of an abandoned library, legs crossed, half empty can of synthetic coffee by my side, watching the streetlights flicker below like dying stars.
Aetherion.
My creation.
My mistake.
It had been one million, seven hundred and forty two thousand years since I last heard anyone whisper my name. A god erased not by war, but by time itself.
And honestly… I preferred it that way.
Humans built cities out of mana and steel, created their own gods, cursed their own monsters. They didn't need me anymore or so they thought.
But lately, something was… off.
Too many disappearances.
Too many hollow eyed mothers praying to gods that no longer listened.
And tonight, the city whispered a name I hadn't heard in centuries Dravenn.
They were an ancient race, older than most pantheons, born in the shadows between dimensions. The Dravenn thrived on fear, silence, and the currency of flesh especially the kind that held traces of divine essence.
And Aetherion's children… every one of them carried a spark of the old creation, whether they knew it or not.
That was why the kidnappings were more than crime they were harvest.
I dropped the empty can off the roof and listened to it clatter against the cobblestone below.
Time to move.
With a thought, the world slowed.
The rain stopped mid air droplets frozen like glass beads around me.
The lights halted in mid flicker.
Even the wind forgot how to breathe.
"Still works," I murmured, stepping down into a world caught in silence.
Time Stop my favorite trick. Not because it was powerful, but because it was quiet.
In this silence, I could think, remember, regret.
I followed the faint mana trails faint to others, but bright as stars to me all leading toward the old undercity beneath Velcrest District.
The humans above called it "The Forgotten Tunnels."
I called it "Home," once.
The tunnels still smelled of sulfur and wet stone. The walls were carved with sigils I'd written a thousand lifetimes ago runes to keep mortals safe from what lived beneath.
Now, the sigils were cracked, leaking faint light like bleeding scars.
And at the end of the tunnel, I heard it a faint whimper.
Time resumed.
The rain returned with a roar. The world inhaled again, and the moment I stepped forward, I saw them five Dravenn, tall and sharp like living shadows, surrounding a cage of light.
Inside it, a child.
Human. Barefoot. Silver-haired.
Her eyes glowed faintly, faint enough that only I could tell she was no ordinary mortal.
"Aether-touched," I whispered.
A child born with fragments of the creation code itself.
My code.
The Dravenn didn't notice me until I spoke.
"Funny," I said, voice calm, hands in my pockets. "I thought your kind were extinct."
They turned. Their bodies rippled like oil in water no faces, just empty masks with glowing red eyes.
"Who dares"
I didn't let him finish.
Time stopped.
The world froze again. Their words hung in the air like broken glass.
I stepped closer, studying the cage. It was built from soulglass, an ancient crystal forged by gods who feared their own creations. Only divine power could shatter it.
Convenient.
I pressed a finger to it. The air shimmered. The entire structure unraveled into motes of light, dissolving like mist.
The child stared up at me, trembling. "M....mister? Are you… an angel?"
I almost laughed. "No. Something worse."
I picked her up gently and rested a hand over her eyes. "Sleep."
Her body went limp, and I laid her over my shoulder. Then I turned to face the frozen Dravenn, still caught in mid movement, blades raised.
I sighed. "You picked the wrong world to crawl back into."
With a flick of my hand, time moved again for them, just long enough to scream before dissolving into dust.
I carried the girl through the storm, heading back to the surface.
For the first time in centuries, I felt something strange in my chest not pity, not anger.
Curiosity.
The humans of Aetherion had forgotten me, erased me, replaced me. Yet somehow, this child bore my essence.
That meant only one thing.
Someone was rewriting creation.
I left her in a clinic run by an half elf woman named Lirien, one of the last mortals who'd once prayed to me without knowing it.
"Found her in the tunnels," I said.
Lirien's eyes widened. "You? Who are you, do you have any idea what's been happening?
"I know," I cut in. " I don't care, Keep her safe."
Her expression changed. "than why help her."
"I don't know "
Later that night, I sat again on the same rooftop, watching the rain fade into mist.
The city below pulsed with mana and life unaware that monsters walked among them, and their forgotten god still watched from above.
Aetherion.
A world that forgot its maker.
But for the first time in a million years… I felt like it might remember soon.
Because somewhere, in the cracks of creation, someone was tampering with my design.
And that I could not ignore.
The next morning came like a lie golden sunlight on wet streets, people laughing, merchants shouting, the smell of baked bread drifting through the air.
No one would believe that the night before, a child almost became a god's currency.
I walked through the crowd, blending in easily. My mortal guise was simple brown hair, with my school uniform
Nobody ever looked twice.
That's what I liked about being forgotten.
But then a small voice behind me:
"Hey, mister!"
I turned.
The same girl, bandaged, holding a pastry, smiling shyly.
"You dropped this," she said, holding out my old pocket watch a relic older than her entire civilization.
I blinked. "How did you know"
"It was glowing when I woke up," she said. "It… said my name."
The gears in my head turned. The watch was part of my divine seal it shouldn't respond to mortals. Unless
"What's your name?" I asked.
She smiled. "Elira."
The name struck me like a bell.
Elira.
In the old tongue of creation, it meant Echo of Light.
I crouched, meeting her eyes. "Elira, do you remember anything from last night?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I saw the shadows. They said they needed me to… open something. Something below the world."
"Below the world…" I whispered.
The Abyssal Gate.
The one door even I had locked myself.
"Thank you, Elira," I said softly, standing up. "Stay with Lirien. And don't follow me again."
She frowned. "Are you going to stop the bad guys?"
I looked at her for a long moment. "No. I'm going to school."
That night, I returned to the tunnels.
This time, deeper.
The runes on the walls had changed. My old language, but rewritten distorted. Someone was trying to reverse engineer divinity.
Aetherion's humans weren't supposed to even remember that script.
But it wasn't human work.
No, the writing pulsed with something older.
Something divine.
I placed my palm on the stone. "Who are you?" I whispered.
The wall pulsed. A voice echoed, ancient and mocking:
"Ah… the Nameless One still walks among his broken toys."
My body went still.
That voice.
It couldn't be
" what are you doing here," I muttered. "You are not suppose to be here."
The voice laughed. "why should I not be here? old friend. You forgot me just as they forgot you."
The stone cracked, and a faint crimson light spilled out, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Welcome home, Lazherin."
For the first time in an age, I felt it real angry.
The fuck is he doing in my world.
I'm gonna kill him.
So his the one that made them forget me…
[End of Chapter 2 "The Child Among Mortals"]