Chapter 2: The Fall of Heaven
The void trembled.
Draven's power leaked into the fabric of existence, warping space, burning skies, and birthing storms of chaos. What once was silence now became a roar of life, flame, and creation itself bowing to its master.
"How long," he muttered, his crimson eyes scanning the emptiness, "has this universe forgotten my name?"
Lilithia stood beside him, her gaze soft, her charred wings slowly spreading wide. "A thousand ages, my king. In your absence, the gods remade the world in their image. They erased your history, sealed your power beneath divine laws, and cast your name into forbidden myth."
Draven's expression hardened. "Then it's time to remind them who forged the flames of the first sun."
His power surged black lightning burst from his body, forming a rift through the heavens.
"Where are we going?" Lilithia asked, though the answer already shimmered in the crimson glow.
"To Heaven."
The divine realm was beautiful too beautiful. Floating palaces of gold drifted among oceans of light, and angelic choirs sang hymns of purity. Yet beneath the perfection, Draven could smell the rot arrogance, deceit, and fear disguised as holiness.
As he stepped through the rift, the heavens themselves quaked. Angels halted mid-flight. The holy bells of the citadel shattered.
"An intruder…?" a voice cried. "Impossible! The Gates of Eternity cannot"
A beam of black flame vaporized the speaker before he could finish.
"The First Demonic Dragon returns," Lilithia murmured with a smirk. "And the heavens tremble."
From the highest spire, she appeared a tall woman clad in radiant silver armor, wings of light extending from her back. Her hair shimmered gold, her eyes sharp as blades.
Seraphine, the Blade Empress.
The goddess of war and judgment.
Her sword pulsed with divine radiance as she descended from the sky, landing before Draven in a burst of holy power.
"Demon," she declared, her voice like thunder wrapped in melody. "You stand in the sacred lands of the Divine. State your purpose, or I shall strike you down where you stand."
Draven's smile was slow, dangerous. "Strike me down? You sound confident for someone who's trembling."
Her eyes narrowed, fury and confusion flashing across her face. "Trembling?!"
He stepped closer, each stride shaking the clouds beneath them. His aura pressed against hers, his power suffocating. Divine light bent and flickered around him, unable to resist.
"You feel it, don't you?" he whispered, his voice deep as thunder. "The truth your gods buried. The pulse of creation itself calling you to kneel."
Seraphine gritted her teeth. "You speak poison."
"No," he said, his hand brushing her sword aside effortlessly. "I speak destiny."
Their powers clashed divine light versus abyssal flame.
Heaven split apart.
Mountains of cloud crumbled, divine towers burned, and angels screamed as their perfect realm collapsed under the weight of two gods in battle.
Seraphine's sword carved through the air, holy fire bursting with every strike but Draven caught the blade in his bare hand, his scales glimmering with crimson energy.
"Impossible!" she gasped. "No being can touch my divine weapon"
"No being," he interrupted with a smirk, "except the one who forged the power your gods stole."
He twisted the blade, sending a shockwave that hurled her back through a golden pillar. She rose, panting, defiance in her eyes but something else flickering beneath awe, maybe even desire.
"What… what are you?" she demanded.
Draven stepped through the flames, unscathed, majestic, terrifying.
"I am Draven," he said simply. "The First Demonic Dragon the one your gods feared so much they pretended I never existed."
She fell to her knees, her sword cracking in her grasp. Her light dimmed, her wings trembling as divine power bled from her body.
"You… your power… it's pure creation and destruction… the two forces that birthed the universe…"
Draven reached out, placing his hand beneath her chin. Her eyes widened as his touch sent warmth and chaos through her veins a mix of terror and ecstasy.
"Swear yourself to me," he said softly, "and I will free you from the false chains of Heaven. Stay loyal, and I will show you eternity."
Seraphine's lips parted, trembling.
"If I refuse?"
Draven leaned closer, his breath hot, his eyes glowing like the heart of a star.
"Then you'll beg later."
The sky cracked open. A torrent of divine energy poured down Heaven's army descending.
But it was too late.
Seraphine lowered her blade, pressing it into the ground before him. "I will serve," she whispered, wings folding in submission.
Lilithia watched from afar, a smile curling on her lips. "Another has fallen to you, my king."
Draven looked up, flames spiraling around his hand as Heaven itself began to burn.
"Let them come," he said. "For every god that falls, my empire will rise."
The first divine realm collapsed that day.
The angels called it The Crimson Dawn.
And in its ashes, Draven stood flanked by two women:
Lilithia, the Fallen Goddess
Seraphine, the Blade Empress
Both bound to him by power, fate, and desire.
The reign of the Crimson Sovereign had begun.