Before the Gods Raise Their Hands
The Endless Ebiees planet was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence found in forests or beneath star-filled skies—but the kind that existed only where nothing fragile had ever survived long enough to make a sound.
A vast, obsidian plain stretched endlessly, its surface etched with ancient sigils that pulsed faintly beneath the cosmic auroras hanging overhead. The sky itself looked unreal—ribbons of violet, gold, and deep blue slowly drifting like thoughts that had not yet decided to become memories.
At the center of it all stood the arena.
Massive. Colossal. Impossible.
It hadn't been built so much as declared into existence. Stone fused with energy. Space reinforced with will. Every wall, every arch, every rune existed for one reason alone—to contain power that could crack worlds.
Sam stood at the highest platform overlooking it.
Hands resting behind his back. Expression calm. Eyes unreadable.
Behind him, Meera and Ruhi appeared slowly, adjusting to the gravity of the place.
Ruhi's jaw dropped.
"…Papa," she whispered, "this place feels like it's watching me."
"It is," Sam replied evenly.
Meera swallowed. "And it's judging."
Sam said nothing.
Below them, the generals gathered.
Not fighting.
Not posturing.
Waiting.
For beings who commanded armies and erased gods, the stillness was unnerving.
Furnoss stared across the arena, flames subdued but restless. Beast King paced in slow circles, claws scraping lightly against the stone. Hydron stood near the edge, eyes closed, listening to the planet's heartbeat. Dragon King folded his wings carefully, pride tempered by something unfamiliar—anticipation.
Zingari sat cross-legged, softly tuning her instrument, notes echoing gently across the arena. Yaksh stood at attention, disciplined as ever.
Season Seperant watched everything at once.
And Sage—
Sage stood perfectly still.
Meera noticed him before she realized she was watching.
He wasn't nervous.
He wasn't excited.
He was… focused.
She leaned closer to Sam. "They've fought gods without blinking," she murmured. "Why does this feel heavier?"
Sam's gaze never left the arena.
"Because this isn't about power," he said quietly. "It's about meaning."
Time passed strangely on Endless Ebiees.
Minutes felt long. Seconds felt heavy.
Ruhi sat on the steps near Sam, legs swinging, unusually quiet.
"Papa," she asked suddenly, "are they really going to hurt each other?"
Sam looked down at her.
"No," he answered after a pause. "But they're going to reveal things they hide."
That didn't reassure her.
Below, tensions simmered.
Furnoss finally broke the silence.
"This is stupid," he muttered, fire flickering irritably. "We already know who's strongest."
Beast King snorted. "Strength alone doesn't decide closeness."
Hydron opened his eyes. "Neither does noise."
Horny Valkyrie smirked. "You're all pretending this doesn't matter. It does."
Dragon King folded his arms. "We are not fighting for status."
Season Seperant tilted his head. "Lies are inefficient."
Sage spoke at last.
"This tournament," he said calmly, "is unnecessary."
The others turned toward him instantly.
"Of course you'd say that," Beast King growled.
"You already stand beside him," Furnoss snapped. "You don't need to prove anything."
Sage's gaze didn't waver.
"Standing beside Master is not a reward," he replied. "It is a responsibility."
The words landed harder than any insult.
Above them, Sam closed his eyes briefly.
Meera noticed.
That alone unsettled her.
Later, as preparations continued, Meera found herself alone with Sage near one of the outer terraces.
She hadn't planned it.
It just… happened.
"You're always near him," she said carefully. "Not possessive. Not loud. Just… present."
Sage inclined his head. "Observation is part of my duty."
"That's not what I meant."
He looked at her fully then.
Meera met his gaze without flinching. "You don't compete for his attention."
"I don't need to," Sage replied.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Meera asked, "Do you ever wish you were… more?"
Sage considered the question longer than expected.
"I am exactly what Master needs," he said at last. "No more. No less."
Meera exhaled slowly.
For the first time, she understood why the others were jealous.
Night fell—or what passed for it on Endless Ebiees.
The auroras dimmed slightly. The sigils glowed brighter.
The generals retreated to different sections of the arena, each lost in their own thoughts.
Beast King stared at his hands, remembering battles where strength had been everything.
Furnoss remembered worlds he'd burned because Sam had commanded it—and worlds he'd saved because Sam had asked.
Dragon King stared at the sky, wondering when pride had started to feel so… hollow.
Zingari watched Ruhi laugh softly with Yaksh, her music gentle and almost sad.
Season Seperant observed Sam.
Always Sam.
Sage stood apart, unmoving.
Sam finally descended from the platform.
The arena felt it.
Every general straightened instinctively.
"This tournament," Sam said, voice calm but carrying effortlessly, "is not about ranking."
They listened.
"It is not about proving loyalty."
Their breathing slowed.
"And it is not about closeness," he continued.
He looked at each of them in turn.
"It exists because you doubt yourselves."
Silence.
"You want my attention," Sam said evenly. "You already have it."
Something shifted.
Ruhi watched with wide eyes.
Meera felt her chest tighten.
Sam turned back toward the platform.
"Rest," he concluded. "Tomorrow, you face more than opponents."
As he walked away, none of the generals spoke.
Because for the first time—
They weren't thinking about winning.
They were thinking about what they might lose.
High above, the auroras flared brighter.
The arena waited.
And somewhere deep within Endless Ebiees, the planet itself seemed to hold its breath.
If you felt uneasy while reading this chapter, good.
This was intentional.
Chapter is the calm before impact—the moment where everyone realizes: this tournament isn't about winning.
It's about what each of them believes they are to Sam.
Now I want your instincts, not logic:
Who do you think is most afraid going into the tournament?
Who is pretending not to care?
And whose loss would actually hurt the most?
Don't predict fights yet.
Tell me what you feel.
Chapter 24 begins where hesitation ends.