In the timeless realm of Avalon, where mountains kissed the sky and oceans whispered secrets to the shore, a kingdom stood as old as the land itself. This was a place where myth and reality bled together, a world woven from legend and memory. For in the heart of Avalon lived the echoes of ancient demigods,beings of immeasurable power, revered and feared in equal measure.
They were not born,they arrived.
Their footsteps scarred the earth. A single strike from their hands could tear mountains from their roots, reshaping the horizon forever. When they roared, forests shuddered and split, ancient trees bowing as if before a living storm. Beasts fled. Armies shattered. The land itself recoiled, recognizing powers never meant to be challenged.
Each demigod carried a force that defined them.
Together, they were worshiped as gods and feared as disasters.
As centuries passed, the three demigods learned a truth carved deeper than death: their bodies would fail, but their power could not be destroyed. To let it vanish would unbalance the world, tearing Avalon apart. And so, bound by oath and necessity, they cursed themselves.
When death came, their souls would not rest.
Instead, every few centuries, they would be reborn into human bodies,fragile, unaware, and doomed. Their memories would sleep. Their power would lie buried beneath mortal flesh, waiting for suffering, rage, or loss to awaken it. Each rebirth was different. Some were kings. Some were beggars. Some died before ever knowing what they were.
And when they awakened, the world bled.
The people learned to fear children with impossible strength, voices that stirred the trees, eyes that burned with storm or fire. Prophecies were whispered. Hunts were organized. Worship turned quickly into execution once the truth revealed itself.
The three demigods returned again and again never whole, never free.
But they were not the greatest threat the world had known.
Beyond the three existed another older, silent, and absolute.
He was known as Aegis, the Destroyer.
Aegis was not blade, flame, or storm. He was a shield,unyielding, merciless, final. A living force forged from the world's instinct to end what it could no longer endure. Where the three shattered mountains, Aegis stood unmoved. Where their roars split forests, his presence crushed sound itself into silence.
He did not create.
He erased.
And in time, even the demigods came to fear him.
For Aegis did not see balance in their endless rebirth. He saw decay. Each cycle stripped away restraint, mercy, and memory, leaving only raw power wearing human skin. What began as guardianship became catastrophe. What was meant to preserve the world was slowly unmaking it.
When Aegis finally turned against them, Avalon broke.
Storms clashed with silence. Fire died against an unyielding shield. Mountains shattered upon an immovable will. Entire regions vanished beneath the weight of their battle, erased from history as if they had never existed.
The world itself could not endure it.
And so, in the final age of their power, the three demigods made a choice no god had ever made before.
They chose to end themselves.
Binding their souls together, they unleashed everything they were stone, flame, and storm,in a single act of annihilation. It was not a victory. It was an execution born of desperation. Aegis was torn apart, his body shattered, his shield broken, his existence unmade by the very forces he sought to erase.
The blast scarred the land forever.
The three demigods died with him.
Their sacrifice saved Avalon,but at a cost.
For while Aegis's form was destroyed, his soul did not fade.
Unlike the others, his essence could not be pulled into the cycle of rebirth. It lingered,silent, patient, and intact beyond the veil of time. The world waited for his return. Priests watched the stars. Scholars searched the signs. Mothers listened for the cry of a child that felt wrong.
But no such child was born.
Centuries passed. Kingdoms rose and collapsed into dust. The three demigods returned again and again, bound still to their curse, their awakenings shaking the land and their deaths feeding the cycle that refused to end.
Yet Aegis did not return.
Without him, the balance faltered. Storms raged longer. Mountains cracked where once they stood firm. The sea crept farther inland each century, as if fleeing something unseen. The world endured,but only barely.
The oldest records speak of the final moment before his destruction.
Aegis stood upon the highest cliff, shield planted against the earth, watching the three demigods prepare to burn their own souls away. He did not fight them then. He did not stop them. For the first time, the Destroyer allowed himself to be destroyed.
Some say the world rejected him. Others believe it could not kill what it still needed.
There are darker truths still.
They say Aegis waits.
Not dead. Not reborn.
Waiting for a world finally broken enough to call him back.