《The Doom of Zakarius English Version》


 The Fallen Angel鈥檚 Awakening

    The light of Eternal''s celestial world had always been bright, illuminating its vast golden fields and white mountains. The three great pillars of the celestial races¡ªthe Angels, Seraphim, and Cherubim¡ªcoexisted in delicate harmony, maintaining balance as the dark miasma of invading necromantic forces threatened their existence for nearly a millennium.


    The air in Eternal carried a sweet fragrance, as if it were always spring, and the light bathing the fields seemed to breathe life into everything it touched. Yet, far off in the distance, the horizon was tinged with a somber twilight, a warning that the dark forces were creeping ever deeper into the celestial lands. The skies seemed to crack under their presence, hinting at a shadow no one dared to speak of.


    Zakarius, a high-ranking angel, marched at the head of his troops. His armor gleamed with the glory of countless battles, and his sword echoed with the victories of the past. For over a century, he had fought against the forces that sought to corrupt his world. To his people, he was a symbol of courage, discipline, and sacrifice. Yet, deep in his heart, a seed of envy began to take root, a feeling that slowly gnawed at him.


    Every time he returned to the Sacred Church, he saw the Cherubim. Small, eternally youthful, carefree, playing in the gardens under the watchful gaze of the Seraphim. These beings, despite their childlike and capricious nature, were essential in the war against the malevolent miasma. With their purity, they could dissolve the darkness that threatened to destroy everything. And yet, they lived without worry, protected, while Angels like Zakarius shed blood and tears on the battlefield.


    Zakarius felt a rift growing within him, as if each battle eroded not only his body but his soul. Every time he crossed the gardens where the Cherubim laughed without care, he felt the gap between his sacrifice and his desire for peace grow, piercing him like a thorn. Although he admired those he protected, his longing for eternal life and tranquility transformed into a need that threatened to suffocate him.


    Zakarius never spoke of it, but his heart was filled with resentment. Each victory brought him less satisfaction, each scar left a deeper ache. Why could he, who had given everything for Eternal, not enjoy the same life as those little beings? Why was his fate to fight and die young while they lived carefree for centuries?


    As the years passed, Zakarius¡¯s resentment grew. He began seeking answers in places he should not. Under the shadows of the forbidden vaults of the Academy, he discovered decrepit scrolls that whispered ancient secrets. The necromantic texts seemed alive, their words slithering across the pages like veins of liquid darkness, wrapping him in an energy both addictive and repulsive. Though he felt he was betraying all he had defended, his hands continued to turn each page, captivated by a promise of longevity and omnipotent power known as a lord of death, a lich.


    In those solitary moments, he began studying the dark arts, hiding his growing knowledge from his companions. He did so in secret, deep within the Sacred Military Academy, where new angels were trained for war. Zakarius used his rank to avoid suspicion, but his obsession slowly consumed him.


    One night, under the light of a red moon, Zakarius made a final decision. On a starless night, while the wind whispered secrets only he could hear, Zakarius took an ancient stone inscribed with inverted celestial symbols. Under the dim glow of the red moon, he muttered the forbidden words, feeling a part of his essence torn away, like a piece of his soul screaming as it was imprisoned. It was a sacrifice, and though his hands trembled, his resolve was unbreakable. Thus, he managed to transfer a part of his consciousness into a phylactery, a forbidden object that contained his essence, his soul. He hid this relic deep within the academy, sealing it with magical barriers to prevent it from being discovered.


    He knew what he had done was a betrayal of everything he stood for. But for Zakarius, this was an opportunity. If he ever fell in battle, his phylactery would bring him back to life.


    The skies of Eternal darkened with the advance of a new wave of necromancers. The celestial armies prepared for a decisive battle, and Zakarius, as always, was at the forefront. Despite his studies in the dark arts, he had maintained his role as one of the army¡¯s leaders, and his combat skills were legendary.


    The battle was fierce, and the miasma seemed to consume everything. The Cherubim, purifying the air, stayed safe, while the Seraphim fired arrows of light from above. But the Angels were on the front line, directly facing the dark hordes.


    In the midst of the chaos, Zakarius was gravely injured. As he fell to the ground, his life began to fade. But in his mind, a single hope shone: his phylactery. He knew that even if he died on that battlefield, his consciousness would live on, waiting for the right moment to return.


    However, before he could be rescued, something unexpected happened. The Seraphim, tasked with guarding the realm, had discovered his dark studies. When Zakarius fell, instead of being honored as a hero, he was judged as a traitor. The high-ranking angels who respected him were unable to defend him. The truth of his betrayal had come to light. Zakarius was executed by his own celestial brethren, and his name was erased from the Angels'' history, condemned to oblivion.


    But what they did not know was that the phylactery remained hidden, slowly feeding on the residual energy of the realm, until, hundreds of years later, Zakarius''s consciousness would begin to awaken once more¡­


    Darkness was the only thing Zakarius could perceive. He floated in the void, without form, without time, without a sense of self. His mind was fragmented, trapped in an endless cycle of forgetting. But something was beginning to change. A spark of consciousness broke through that darkness, bringing with it indescribable pain.


    He awoke, though the word "awoke" didn¡¯t quite fit. There was no body to cling to, nothing tangible. He was simply... there. A being of pure energy, trapped in a confined space, bound by invisible limits.


    "Who am I...?" The question echoed in his mind, but there was no answer. It was as if something important was buried deep within his being, unreachable.


    As time passed ¡ªif time existed in that place¡ª fragments of memory began to return, though they were broken, incomplete. He remembered battles, a war... had he been a warrior? Had he fallen in battle? He didn¡¯t know. His identity, his purpose, everything was covered by a thick fog.


    But amidst that confusion, a truth filtered through: he was trapped. Confined within something. And, somehow, he himself had caused this.


    Time passed, and Zakarius began to notice something else. Despite the prison in which he was confined, his consciousness could extend beyond those limits, though weakly and hesitantly. At first, it was only a glimpse: a dark room, the distant echo of voices he couldn¡¯t quite understand.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.With each attempt, his projections became clearer.


    Gradually, he managed to see the academy, the place where his phylactery had been hidden. The central military academy looked almost the same as in his hazy memories, though everything seemed more modern, more structured. New angels and seraphim trained there, but now, there was something else that caught his attention. An uncomfortable feeling of unfamiliarity surrounded him, as if something important was slipping away from him.


    Through the halls and chambers, Zakarius realized that he couldn¡¯t project his physical image, only his perception. Like a specter, he could observe without being seen, filling him with both relief and fear. He needed to stay hidden, even without fully understanding why. Instinctively, he knew he couldn¡¯t let anyone sense his presence.


    "Why am I here...?" he wondered again and again. The academy was so close, yet at the same time, the feeling of alienation grew. The voices of the new recruits echoed in his ears. He overheard fragments of conversations: the necromantic forces were still a threat, but something in the trainers'' tone made him think that the war wasn¡¯t as intense as before.


    Then, a detail slipped out from his vague memories: the phylactery. Something about that term made him shudder. He remembered having done something... something dangerous. But what and why were still beyond his reach.


    With each projection of his consciousness, Zakarius gained control over his surroundings. He realized that, although he couldn¡¯t interact physically, he was able to trace the energies flowing within the academy. The magic of Eternal, once so familiar, now felt strange to him, but he could perceive its presence, helping him stay hidden.


    However, each time he tried to explore beyond the academy, a force pulled him back. The phylactery anchored him, like an anchor, and although he didn¡¯t fully remember why he was there, he was beginning to realize that it was not something natural. He had done something that went against celestial laws. That filled him with deep unease.


    In one of his projections, he ventured into the ancient archives room. There, among texts and scrolls, he found something vaguely familiar. A tale about a traitor angel who had used forbidden arts to defy the natural cycle of life and death. Although no names were mentioned, the words echoed in his mind like a distant echo.


    "Traitor angel..." The words haunted him. Could he be that angel? Something within him told him yes, but there were still pieces missing in the puzzle of his memory.


    He decided that he needed answers. The central military academy was full of guards, both living and spiritual, and although they were unaware of his presence, the risk of being discovered loomed. Each projection weakened him, and each attempt to explore left him more vulnerable. But if he was going to understand his situation, if he was going to remember who he truly was, he needed to take the risk.


    Days, or what Zakarius perceived as days, passed slowly in his prison within the phylactery. With each projection of his consciousness, his control over the surroundings grew more precise. Though he didn¡¯t fully remember his purpose, he was beginning to understand that the outside world feared him and that he needed to keep his existence hidden.


    Each attempt to push beyond the academy¡¯s boundaries weakened him, as though something warned him he wasn¡¯t ready. But during one of his nighttime explorations, something unexpected happened. While his perception wandered through the dormitories of young recruits, his essence was involuntarily drawn toward one of them. He felt a pull, as if the mind of one of the angels in training had opened a door he could cross. Before he could resist, Zakarius found himself immersed in a torrent of chaotic images.


    He was inside a dream.


    The recruit, a young angel in his first phase of training, was dreaming of heroic battles. The images were vague, blurry, but what Zakarius sensed was unmistakable: fear, insecurity, and a desperate desire for approval. As he watched, something within him clicked. He could interact in this space.


    Zakarius extended his consciousness and, with just a thought, the dream images began to change. The battlefield dissolved, and in its place, a majestic figure emerged from the shadows: himself, though he had not yet fully remembered his identity. His projected form was powerful, imposing¡ªan idealized version of what he once was. The young recruit gazed at the figure in awe, while Zakarius remained silent, observing the power he now held.


    Upon waking, the young angel wouldn¡¯t remember the figure clearly, but the impact on his subconscious was already made. Zakarius had planted a seed.


    Zakarius soon realized that his ability to invade dreams was no accident. It was an extension of his necromantic power, an ability he had forgotten but was beginning to rediscover. Though he still couldn¡¯t physically interact with the world, the realm of dreams was his to shape.


    He decided to test his discovery. Night after night, he projected his essence into the dorms of the youngest recruits¡ªthe most inexperienced, those with minds more malleable. With each invasion, Zakarius not only observed but began to intervene in their dreams, leaving subtle marks: a figure in the distance, a whispering voice that promised power, safety, recognition.


    The recruits didn¡¯t realize the intruder¡¯s presence in their minds, but upon waking, their thoughts were slightly altered. Some began to feel an inexplicable attraction to the darkness, others a growing loyalty to a figure they couldn¡¯t fully identify. Unknowingly, they were becoming followers of Zakarius, driven by their own ambitions and desires, which he manipulated in their dreams.


    "I am more powerful than I remembered¡­" Zakarius thought as he watched the first fruits of his manipulation. These young angels would be his first pawns, and although he couldn¡¯t fully recall his original plan, he knew he needed to build a base of power if he wanted to achieve what he once sought.


    As he mastered this new ability, Zakarius began to work with more precision. He ensured he wasn¡¯t too obvious; the interventions had to be subtle. A slight hint here, a push toward doubt there. His victims began questioning the academy¡¯s teachings, distrusting the seraphim and other superiors.


    One recruit in particular, a young angel named Elian, caught Zakarius¡¯s attention. Elian was especially talented but also insecure, constantly seeking his superiors¡¯ approval. He was the perfect candidate. In his dreams, Zakarius showed him visions of greatness, of how he could surpass his peers if he only took the right steps, if he embraced a source of power he didn¡¯t yet understand.


    "They are lying to you," Zakarius whispered in Elian''s dreams. "True power doesn¡¯t lie in the light, but in what they deny you."


    Elian woke more and more convinced that he was destined for something greater, and over time, his actions in the academy began to reflect his growing loyalty to the dark figure that visited his dreams. Though he couldn¡¯t name it, Zakarius was already creating a network of future followers¡ªservants willing to give their lives for his resurgence.


    But Zakarius knew he couldn¡¯t rush. He needed to be patient. If any of his young recruits started acting too suspiciously, the academy might notice something. He had to keep his interventions in the shadows, ensuring that each step was imperceptible until he was ready to strike.


    The central military academy was accustomed to receiving notable visitors, but the arrival of a high-ranking Cherub from the Celestial Oligarchic Republics was an unusual event. This small neutral country, which had achieved independence centuries ago, had managed to survive and thrive despite its scarcity of resources. They hadn¡¯t directly participated in the wars against the necromancers, which allowed them to focus on scientific advancement and the development of a renowned mercantile economy.


    Their currency, the Solaris, was widely accepted in nearly every region, a symbol of their growing influence in the celestial plane. The oligarchs who ruled the republics were powerful figures, and their children, though young and seemingly harmless, were seen as heirs to that influence and wealth.


    The Cherub visiting the academy was the son of one of the three most powerful oligarchs of the republics. Despite his youthful appearance, his presence had generated great anticipation. Elior, as he was called, was known not only for his lineage but also for his intelligence. Although barely a child by cherubic standards, he was treated with respect by the academy¡¯s high command due to his position and his family¡¯s power.

 The Rebellion in Dreams

    Zakarius, watching from the shadows, had heard the rumors of Elior¡¯s arrival. The presence of such a prestigious cherub in the academy intrigued him. He knew that cherubs possessed a pure power, almost incomprehensible to the rest of the celestials. But beyond that, he sensed something more: an opportunity.


    Through his projections, Zakarius began to silently follow Elior, observing how the young cherub interacted with the academy¡¯s leaders and recruits. Despite his youth, Elior spoke with a rare confidence among cherubs, a sign of his upbringing among the elite. However, there was something within him¡ªa hint of unease, perhaps the weight of expectation that rested upon him as the son of an oligarch.


    Zakarius knew he had to proceed with caution. Invading the dreams of such an important cherub could be extremely risky, but it could also provide him with a pawn of incalculable value. If he managed to manipulate Elior, he would gain access to the Celestial Oligarch Republics, their influence, and, most importantly, their vast scientific knowledge.


    One night, Zakarius decided to take the risk. He waited until Elior was deeply asleep in the special quarters assigned to him within the academy. Through his projection, Zakarius entered the cherub¡¯s dreams.


    Elior''s dream was different from those of the other recruits. Instead of the usual images of battles and training, Elior dreamed of the future: vast cities covered in glass and metal, a sky illuminated not by divine light but by ingenious structures crafted by human hands. In his dream, Elior walked among scientists and oligarchs, discussing great technological advances that could change the destiny of the Republics and Eternal.


    Zakarius watched in silence. Although Elior was young, he already had a brilliant mind, filled with ambitions. His dreams revealed a vision of progress and control, but they also showed his doubts. The young cherub feared he might not live up to the expectations of his father and the Republics. That fear was something Zakarius could exploit.


    With a subtle intervention, Zakarius appeared in the dream¡ªnot as an imposing or authoritative figure, but as a presence in the shadows. He whispered soft words into Elior¡¯s ear as the cherub walked among his visions of the future.


    "Do not fear failure... true power is not found only in scientific advancement but in what others cannot see. In what is hidden... in what you can control from the shadows."


    Elior did not respond in the dream, but Zakarius could feel the words filtering into his subconscious. He knew not to rush, but he had already planted the seed of doubt. If he could influence Elior, this cherub could become one of his most valuable allies.


    As days passed, Zakarius continued to watch Elior. The young cherub seemed not to fully recall the whispered words from his dreams, but Zakarius could notice subtle changes in his behavior. There was something in Elior¡¯s gaze¡ªa subtle restlessness, a spark of curiosity that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    Zakarius knew he couldn¡¯t act too quickly. Elior was more complex than the young recruits he had manipulated before. His mind was sharp, and any intervention too obvious might make him suspicious. But the opportunity he represented was too tempting to ignore.


    Zakarius decided that, for now, he needed to be patient. Elior was only the first step toward something much greater. If he could lure him to his cause, he could gain access to the scientific advances of the Celestial Oligarch Republics¡ªa significant advantage that could aid him in his plan to resurface and reclaim the power he once held. The war against the necromancers was not over yet, but if he played his cards right, Zakarius could tip the scales in his favor from the shadows.


    Trapped in the darkness of the phylactery, Zakarius felt the shadow of his old ambition beginning to take shape once more. Although his darker side constantly whispered that he should destroy the celestials from within, something else kept him restless: his old yearnings.


    Throughout his long life as an angel, he had always envied the life of the cherubs. Eternal youth, carefree living, the freedom to exist without the weight of duty. And now, Elior, the young cherub, embodied everything Zakarius had desired but never possessed.


    ¡°Why destroy when I can replace?¡± he asked himself. Living again in the body of a young, powerful cherub would allow him to escape the prison of his phylactery. He would no longer be a specter trapped in limbo but a living being once more, with the potential to shape destiny at his will.


    That was when his plan began to take shape.


    Zakarius knew that replacing Elior¡¯s consciousness would not be easy. The cherub was protected by his lineage and his pure nature, but Zakarius had one thing in his favor: the connection already established in Elior¡¯s dreams. Through this connection, he could delve deeper into the cherub¡¯s mind and, over time, attempt to replace his consciousness with his own.


    Every night, Zakarius pushed further into Elior¡¯s dreams, testing the limits of his influence. At first, he only planted small doubts, but as he gained more control, he began to insert fragments of himself. He introduced false memories, making Elior believe he had always had a second voice in his mind¡ªa voice that whispered advice and warnings. That voice, of course, was Zakarius, infiltrating deeper into the cherub¡¯s thoughts.


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    ¡°Your life can be so much more than what you¡¯ve been told,¡± Zakarius whispered in Elior¡¯s dreams. ¡°You can be more than a mere heir... you can be eternal.¡±


    While Zakarius worked on Elior''s mind, he did not forget the army of followers he had started forming among the younger recruits at the academy. He knew that if his plan failed or if anyone began to suspect, he would need to act quickly. He couldn¡¯t afford to be discovered in his current state, still weak and trapped in the phylactery.


    So, at night, besides invading Elior¡¯s dreams, he also visited his followers. He enveloped them in dreams of glory and power, feeding their darkest desires. He whispered to them that the academy was deceiving them, that the seraphim and higher angels were not worthy of their loyalty. Little by little, he prepared them for the moment when he would need to unleash chaos within the academy.


    Zakarius knew he couldn''t act too soon. He needed full control over Elior before taking the next step. But if the situation required it, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to use his followers to start a rebellion within the academy, weakening the celestial forces from within.


    With each passing day, Zakarius grew closer to his goal. Elior, though still unaware, was being invaded little by little. Zakarius''s voice had become something familiar to him, a constant presence in his thoughts. The cherub had begun to question the authority of his teachers and the path that had been set for him.


    Zakarius knew he couldn¡¯t rush. If he tried to take control too quickly, Elior might resist. But he also knew time was not on his side. The academy was a place full of secrets, and he couldn¡¯t afford to be discovered before completing his plan.


    "Soon¡­" he told himself as he watched Elior sleep in the darkness of the night. "Soon I¡¯ll be free."


    And if he couldn¡¯t achieve this, he would not hesitate to provoke a revolt, unleash chaos among his followers, and take what rightfully belonged to him. But his primary desire, one that had awakened from deep within, was not to destroy. It was to live again, to feel, to experience the freedom of a new life, even if it was stolen.


    Zakarius knew the moment had come. Every night, he had delved deeper into Elior¡¯s mind, establishing his presence, weakening the cherub¡¯s resistance. But tonight would be different. Tonight, he would take full control.


    In the silence of the early morning, as Elior slept in his room, Zakarius entered his mind one last time. This time, he didn¡¯t intend to be just a whispering shadow; this time, he planned to fully seize the young cherub¡¯s consciousness.


    Upon entering Elior¡¯s dreams, Zakarius felt a wave of pure, fierce resistance¡ªa presence that was more than just a mental barrier. It was Elior¡¯s essence, who, though unconscious, sensed the intrusion and responded with all the strength of his spirit.


    Elior: "Who are you¡­? Why do I feel this darkness in my mind?"


    Zakarius: "Do not fear, young cherub. I am only a voice¡­ a guide that will lead you to a destiny greater than what your mentors have taught you."


    Elior attempted to expel that shadow with a burst of inner light, but Zakarius, a pseudo-lich, overwhelmed him and advanced, projecting images of grandeur, dominion, and power into his mind.


    Zakarius: "You have potential, Elior. Your place is not in the shadows of the Oligarchic Republics or the Holy Church. You can transcend. You can be immortal."


    Elior: "No! My place is beside my father, Auron¡­ with those who bring light and innovation to the world. You are not part of that purpose!"


    Zakarius felt Elior''s words repelling him, but his desire for control was stronger. As he advanced, Zakarius''s shadow began to envelop Elior''s consciousness, trying to smother that essence of light. But the cherub was strong, much stronger than Zakarius had anticipated.


    Zakarius: "Your life, young Elior, will only be complete if you let someone experienced guide you. Let me be your guide¡­ or simply be you."


    Elior: "Never! I am Elior, son of Auron, oligarch of the Celestial Republics. I will not yield to a dark entity like you!"


    That final flash of resistance was enough to give Elior a momentary respite, allowing him to use a last resort: a mental spell that would scatter his memories while hiding his essence in the deepest part of himself, waiting and gathering strength to reclaim his life if possible. He sent one last thought, filled with sorrow, knowing he might never see his beloved father, his role model, again. He should never have come to a place like this; the academy was not safe.


    Zakarius, alarmed, tried to stop him, but it was too late. Elior''s mind faded into a whirl of confusion, and Zakarius felt it extinguish, erasing every trace of his memories.


    Zakarius opened his eyes. The morning light filtered through the windows of Elior¡¯s room. Everything seemed normal, but something was terribly wrong. He rose from the bed, feeling the light, youthful body of the cherub. It was the body he had always desired, full of vitality and purity. However, when he tried to remember why he was there, or what had happened, his mind was blank.


    "Who am I?" Zakarius wondered, but he couldn¡¯t find an answer. He couldn¡¯t remember his past as a fallen angel, his downfall, or his plans. All he knew was that there was something different about him, something that didn¡¯t fit. The body was that of a cherub, but his mind¡­ his mind was that of someone entirely different.


    He tried to act like Elior, but everything seemed forced. He didn¡¯t know how to move with the carefree grace of a cherub or how to interact with others of his kind. His mind was filled with the experience and judgment of a fallen angel, but his appearance remained that of a young cherub, which drew curious looks from those around him.


    As Zakarius moved through the academy in Elior¡¯s body, it didn¡¯t take long for others to notice that something was wrong. Elior had always been a prominent figure, not only because of his lineage but also due to his charismatic and lively personality. Now, however, there was something in his behavior that seemed strange.


    The other cherubs observed him with curiosity. Although they tended to be whimsical and extravagant by nature, Elior had always been eloquent and self-assured. But now, there was an awkwardness in his movements, a coldness in his gaze that didn¡¯t align with the carefree nature of a cherub.


    "He must be going through a phase," some said, shrugging. Cherubs were known for their unpredictability, and no one in the academy, not even the high-ranking angels, suspected what had truly happened. Elior¡¯s importance as the son of one of the three oligarchs of the Oligarchic Celestial Republics meant that his unusual behavior was attributed to his status, and no one dared question it openly.

 The Awakening of Shadows

    Although Zakarius had managed to take control of the body, his mind was in chaos. He knew he''d had a plan, but he couldn''t remember the details. He knew he had been someone important, but he didn''t know exactly who. He tried to keep up appearances, but he often caught himself acting with the poise and discipline of a high-ranking angel, which contrasted with the playful and carefree nature of cherubim.


    The academy instructors began to notice certain changes in Elior. Though they didn''t suspect the truth, they started to worry about his mental health. The young cherub, once bright and full of energy, now seemed distant, reflective, almost somber. Some began to wonder if the pressure of being the son of an oligarch was affecting his behavior.


    Zakarius, for his part, was trying to adapt to his new body, but he felt trapped. Although he had achieved his goal of living again, the price he''d paid¡ªthe loss of all his memories¡ªwas too high. Now, he not only had to face a world he didn''t understand but also an identity that didn''t fit at all with the body he inhabited.


    As the days passed, Zakarius realized that his situation was unsustainable. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn''t remember what. Although he had gained the body of a cherub, he felt more like an angel trapped in a body that wasn''t his. The amnesia that Elior had caused at the last moment had left him vulnerable, without a clear identity or a defined purpose.


    And yet, something inside him told him that this wasn''t the end. Although he didn''t remember who he was or what he had been, he knew he had a goal. He could feel it deep within his being: he had to regain what he had lost. But for now, he had to keep up appearances, learn to behave like a cherub, and avoid raising suspicion.


    Meanwhile, the celestials at the academy continued with their lives, unaware that young Elior, the brilliant heir of one of the most powerful oligarchs, no longer existed. In his place, an ancient fallen angel tried to navigate a world he no longer understood, desperately seeking to recover his identity and power.


    Zakarius, still trapped in Elior''s body, continued to struggle with the sense of strangeness that surrounded him. Each day, uncertainty overwhelmed him as he tried to adapt to his new life as a cherub. But at night, when Elior''s body sank into sleep, something peculiar began to happen.


    The first time it happened, it was accidental. While Elior slept deeply, Zakarius felt a pull in his mind, as if an invisible force was pushing him out of the body. And suddenly, he understood. He could project his consciousness again, as he had once done from the phylactery. But this time, he was within a physical body, allowing him far greater control.


    His initial reaction was surprise, but then, the familiarity of the ability brought an echo of something lost. Though he didn''t remember how he knew, he understood what he was doing. His essence would temporarily leave Elior''s body, and he could move around the academy as a specter, invisible to everyone but fully aware.


    "This... I''ve done this before," Zakarius thought as he floated through the dark halls of the academy. Each projection made him feel more comfortable, more certain that this ability wasn''t new to him. On the contrary, it seemed an essential part of his being, even if he couldn''t remember why.


    Each time he projected his consciousness, the feeling of power and familiarity grew. At first, he only observed the recruits, ensuring they didn''t discover him. But soon, he began to feel a connection to certain students, especially those he had begun to corrupt before invading Elior''s body.


    One night, while exploring the academy in his projected form, he felt a strong pull toward one of the dormitories. Following the trace, he arrived at a young angel who was sleeping deeply, but something about him seemed strangely familiar. As he watched, Zakarius''s mind began to unearth fragments of memory.


    "This young one... is one of those I corrupted," he thought. His projection began to interact with the angel''s mind, and then he saw it: memories of past nights when he had planted seeds of doubt and ambition in the young one''s mind. The angel had begun to question celestial authority, and now was one of Zakarius''s most loyal followers, though he didn''t yet know it.


    Zakarius felt a heartbeat of recognition. It had been he who had started all this. He wasn''t simply Elior, an innocent cherub. He was Zakarius, the fallen angel who had corrupted the minds of the young for his own benefit. And now, those same followers could help him fully remember who he was.


    Night after night, Zakarius visited the young ones he had corrupted, those who slept uneasily, their minds full of dark thoughts and desires they didn''t fully understand. With each visit, he remembered more details of his original plan: how he had attempted to overthrow the celestials, how he had been discovered and exterminated, and how he had managed to resurface thanks to the phylactery he had created.


    One of the recruits closest to him in his projected form, a seraph named Kaleth, helped him connect the missing pieces. In his dreams, Kaleth called him "master," and repeated phrases that Zakarius had whispered to him months before, when his power over them was still at its peak.


    "You taught me that celestials are weak," Kaleth said in his dreams. "You showed me that true power lies in darkness."


    Every word he heard ignited more memories in Zakarius''s mind. He wasn''t just a fallen angel; he was the architect of a plan much larger than simply corrupting a few recruits. He had been building a rebellion, a force capable of challenging the celestial order and conquering Eternal. And though he had been defeated before, his resurgence meant he still had a chance.


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    One night, while projecting his consciousness, Zakarius decided to speak directly to Kaleth. He manifested in his dreams not just as an observer, but as a tangible presence, a mentor guiding his thoughts.


    "Kaleth," Zakarius whispered, "tell me who I am."


    Kaleth, in his dream state, responded immediately, as if he recognized the voice in the depths of his being.


    "You are my master, Zakarius. The fallen angel who showed us true power. The one who will lead us into a new era."


    Hearing his own name, something within Zakarius fully activated. It was as if a barrier had broken, releasing an avalanche of memories that flooded his mind. He remembered everything: his life as an angel, his betrayal, his hatred toward the cherubim, his plan to replace Elior''s consciousness, and how he had been discovered and destroyed, only to resurface centuries later.


    Back in Elior''s body, Zakarius awoke with renewed clarity. He knew who he was, and although he had lost part of his power in the process, he now had control over a young body full of potential. Elior had managed to erase his memories in a desperate attempt to avoid his own destruction, but Zakarius had recovered enough to continue his plan.


    "No one suspects yet," he thought as he walked through the academy. "To everyone, I am Elior, but inside, I am Zakarius." This advantage gave him time to perfect his strategy. The young celestials he had corrupted remained loyal, even if they didn''t know the full truth. He could use them as key pieces in his next move.


    Now that he remembered who he was, Zakarius wouldn''t just seek a new life. He would seek revenge on those who had destroyed him and would carry out his vengeance from within, using his followers and his new identity to complete his work.


    But for now, he had to keep up appearances. He had to continue being the eccentric and capricious cherub Elior, while weaving in the shadows the plan that would lead him to his final victory.


    Zakarius moved carefully, weaving his web of influence in the shadows. Although he had already managed to corrupt several young celestial beings, he needed something more. He needed power, and to achieve that, he had to infiltrate the minds of those in higher positions. He could not afford to be discovered, so his method was subtle: tiny seeds of doubt and ambition that slowly blossomed in the minds of his victims, until they could no longer resist the call of rebellion.


    Every night, his consciousness projected further, reaching higher-ranking angels and seraphim. He whispered promises of power, of breaking free from the rigid structures of heaven. While not everyone fell under his influence immediately, Zakarius was patient. He knew that the most effective corruption was slow-burning, taking its time to consolidate before becoming evident.


    As his network grew, days at the academy passed without incident. Zakarius, in Elior''s body, continued to act as the extravagant young cherub everyone knew. Although some noticed certain changes in his behavior, most attributed them to the unstable nature of cherubs. However, those whom Zakarius had corrupted knew the truth, albeit not entirely: they saw Elior as the leader who would guide them toward a new era.


    One day, while Zakarius pondered the progress of his rebellion, he was summoned to the office of one of the academy''s directors, the angel Altior, who was in charge of diplomatic relations. Upon arriving, he found Altior waiting with a solemn expression on his face.


    "Elior, it''s good to see you," Altior said, observing him carefully. "The Celestial Oligarchic Republics have offered their support in the war. They are willing to share their technology and resources with us, but they need to know more about our situation and what we need."


    Upon hearing this, Zakarius tensed. He knew the Republics were a powerhouse in technology and scientific advancements, and their intervention could tip the scales of war. However, he also knew that now, as Elior, he would have to deal with these diplomatic matters¡ªa dangerous ground for someone who barely remembered how to behave like a cherub.


    "I understand," Zakarius replied calmly, trying to appear unconcerned. "What role should I play in all of this?"


    Altior looked at him intently. "Your father, one of the oligarchs, is the one who pushed for this alliance. Your role is crucial, Elior. You must act as an intermediary between us and the Republics. No one is better positioned to ensure that resources and technology flow efficiently to our armies. But in addition to that, your family wants to make sure that the interests of the Republics are well represented."


    Zakarius nodded, maintaining an outward calm. He knew that any mistake in this mission could reveal his true identity, but he also understood that playing this role provided him with a strategic advantage.


    "I will do my best," he said with a slight smile, though inside, his mind was calculating how to use this situation to his advantage.


    The next day, Zakarius received another unexpected visit. Two cherubs, former tutors of Elior and subordinate emissaries of his father, had come to see him. They wanted to know how he was doing and discuss the details of his diplomatic mission. Zakarius knew he had to be cautious, as these cherubs knew him well¡ªperhaps too well.


    The emissaries, a pair of elder cherubs named Adriel and Thesan, were respected figures in the Republics. When they arrived, both greeted him with a bow, something unusual among cherubs, but appropriate given Elior''s status.


    "Elior, dear," Adriel said with a paternal smile, "we''ve come to see you on behalf of your father. He is worried about you, about how you are adapting to life in the academy and, of course, about your mission. How are you?"


    Zakarius, still trying to familiarize himself with the body and customs of the cherubs, decided that it was best to keep his answers vague, avoiding any detail that could betray him.


    "I feel¡­ fine, I suppose," he replied, searching for a tone that seemed casual. "It''s been a time of many changes, but I''m adjusting."


    Adriel and Thesan exchanged a glance. They knew Elior had always been more expressive, but they did not press the issue. Instead, Adriel continued, "Your mission is of great importance, Elior. The Republics have made impressive advances in technology, and your role as an intermediary could change the course of the war. You must understand that your father expects a lot from you."


    Zakarius nodded with a contained smile, though inside he felt increasingly uncomfortable. What did Elior know about this technology? What exactly did they expect from him? He realized he would need more information to avoid making a fatal mistake.


    "I understand," he said slowly. "I will do everything I can to meet expectations. I appreciate the trust of my father and the Republics."


    Thesan, who had remained silent until now, watched him with a piercing gaze. "You look¡­ different, Elior. The academy must be changing you. Is this what you expected?"


    Zakarius felt a chill. Had he said something suspicious? Thesan''s gaze was sharp, as if he were trying to read his mind. He had to be careful.


    "I suppose we all change over time," he replied, looking away. "Life here is demanding, but I''m learning a lot."


    The emissaries watched him for a few more moments, but ultimately decided not to press. They bid farewell, reminding him of the importance of his mission, and promised to return soon to discuss progress with the Republics.

 The Silent Rebellion

    After the visit from the emissaries, Zakarius knew he had to act quickly. He couldn''t allow anyone else to notice the changes in his behavior, especially those who knew him well. He needed to strengthen his control over the minds of his followers and use his position as an intermediary to advance his rebellion plan.


    "If I play my cards right," Zakarius thought, "not only will I control the academy, but also the resources of the Republics. With their technology and my power, I can unleash chaos that even the celestials could not foresee."


    But first, he had to keep infiltrating the most advanced minds. He couldn''t limit himself to recruits; he needed to reach the leaders, those with the power to change the course of the war.


    Thus, each night, while Elior slept, Zakarius projected his consciousness farther, seeking his next targets. He knew time was pressing, but if he acted with patience and precision, he could ignite a rebellion from the shadows that would sweep everything away.


    Dawn brought a chilling atmosphere, as if the sky itself sensed what was coming. Zakarius, still deep in his intrigues and manipulations, hadn''t anticipated how soon the calm would shatter.


    The academy, normally a bastion of security, was assaulted in the dead of night by an army of necromancers that loomed like a massive shadow on the horizon.


    Chaos erupted instantly. Alarms blared throughout the compound, angels and seraphim took defensive positions, and cherubs were hastily escorted to protected zones. The academy''s magical barrier, designed to protect its students and warriors, crumbled within minutes under the dark assault. The celestial soldiers, caught off guard, barely managed to organize a defense before the necromantic hordes stormed the halls.


    Zakarius, in Elior''s body, watched from a high tower. The reality of the situation struck him like a cold wave. The front line was far more compromised than he had anticipated. The celestial armies were quickly losing ground, and the academy, supposedly an impenetrable fortress, had fallen in a single night.


    For a brief moment, Zakarius thought about revealing himself. Perhaps the necromancers, if they discovered who he really was, would welcome him with open arms. After all, he had used his dark power to escape death and had planned his revenge from within the celestial ranks. But as he approached the invading forces, something happened.


    "A cherub!" shouted one of the dark warriors, pointing at him. "Kill him!"


    The necromantic soldiers attacked mercilessly, without giving him a chance to speak. Zakarius, in Elior''s body, was forced to retreat. To them, he was just another cherub, a symbol of celestial purity that had to be destroyed.


    "Damn them all," he thought angrily as he dodged the attacks. "If I can''t join the necromancers or the celestials, I''ll rely on my own power."


    Zakarius knew that his army¡ªthe young celestials whose minds he had corrupted¡ªawaited his signal. If there was a moment to unleash his rebellion, this was it. Seizing the chaos of battle, he projected his consciousness into each of his servants, awakening the control he had implanted in them over time.


    "Rise!" he ordered them in their dreams. "Fight for me. Fight to the death."


    The young celestials, already disturbed by the invasion, felt Zakarius''s call in their minds. Something dark consumed them, a black fire that drove them to betray their own comrades. Amid the confusion of the battle, they began attacking their celestial peers. Some fought with fury, while others gave in to the frenzy, destroying everything in their path.


    The chaos that had already erupted in the academy intensified. No one could understand why some of the younger recruits were turning on their own comrades. The academy, already being ravaged by the necromancer army, now began to collapse from within.


    Taking advantage of the moment, Zakarius decided he could no longer stay there. He had used his followers enough; now it was time to escape.


    He knew that the emissaries of his "father," the cherubs Adriel and Thesan, were still at the academy. And although they had been sent to supervise him, they were also his best chance of leaving alive. Zakarius ran through the shattered halls of the academy, avoiding both celestial forces and necromancer invaders, until he reached the area where the cherubs were sheltered.


    Upon finding Adriel and Thesan, who were organizing the evacuation of the cherubs, Zakarius adopted a panicked expression, pretending to be young Elior in the midst of crisis.


    "Adriel!" he cried, feigning desperation. "We have to leave now! The academy is lost."


    Adriel and Thesan looked at him in surprise, but their concern for Elior outweighed their doubts.


    "Elior, we are waiting for instructions from celestial command," said Thesan, though there was uncertainty in his voice. "We can''t leave the academy without a direct order."


    Zakarius, in Elior''s body, couldn''t allow any delays. He knew time was running out and that he had to leave before the situation worsened. Then, he resorted to his most powerful threat.


    "Instructions?" he said, hardening his tone. "Do you know who my father is? If you don''t get me out of here right now, Auron will make sure none of you ever set foot in the Republics again!"


    Adriel and Thesan exchanged nervous glances. They couldn''t afford to anger Auron, one of the most powerful oligarchs of the Republics. Although Elior seemed to be acting strangely, his threat could not be ignored.


    "Very well, Elior," Adriel sighed. "We''ll get you out of here. But we must be quick."


    The three cherubs began moving quickly toward a safe evacuation point. As they did, Zakarius observed the chaos around him with a mixture of satisfaction and disdain. He had sown destruction on both sides, and now he was withdrawing as the academy crumbled.


    As Zakarius was evacuated from the academy with the other cherubs, his mind worked silently, calculating his next steps. He had lost control of the academy, but he still had something valuable: access to the Celestial Oligarchic Republics and his position as Auron''s son.


    If he couldn''t destroy the celestials from within, perhaps he could do it from without, using the Republics'' resources and technology for his own gain.


    "This battle is far from over," Zakarius thought as the transport carried him away from the burning battlefield. "If I can''t be part of the necromancer or celestial armies, I''ll forge my own destiny. And none of them will be safe."


    But even though Zakarius had managed to escape, he couldn''t shake a trace of doubt. What would happen if his true identity were revealed in the Republics? And what would happen when his father''s emissaries began to ask deeper questions about his behavior?


    Shadows loomed over him, but Zakarius knew that as long as he had the will to survive, he would always find a way forward. The rebellion he had begun in the academy was only the beginning of something far greater.


    The sky over the Celestial Oligarchic Republics was covered with silver clouds, crisscrossed by majestic airships floating, powered by a blend of technology and ancient magic. As the evacuation ship descended, Zakarius, in Elior''s body, watched with awe and caution. Giant airships moved fluidly between the crystal and steel towers adorning the capital city. In the streets, magic-powered machines transported goods and people, and blue lights of magical energy shone everywhere.


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    The arrival in the Republics couldn''t have been more different from the chaos of the academy. Here, everything was perfectly calculated, advanced, and in harmony between magic and science. Zakarius, a former warrior angel, had never seen a city like this. Though the Republics were known to be small and resource-poor, their scientific progress and societal efficiency had elevated them to an almost legendary status.


    At the port, Elior''s father, the great oligarch Auron, waited anxiously. When the ship landed, Auron ran toward Zakarius (believing he was his son) with open arms, his face showing a mix of worry and relief.


    "Elior, my son!" he exclaimed with genuine emotion, hugging him tightly. "I thought I had lost you¡­ Are you okay? Are you hurt?"


    Zakarius, still uncomfortable in this new body and role, tried to mimic Elior''s emotions, but the warmth with which the real Elior would have responded simply didn''t come from him. Auron let him go for a moment, stepping back to look him in the eyes, and his expression darkened slightly.


    "You seem¡­ different, son. Colder. What happened?"


    Zakarius forced a smile, though his mind was already occupied with how to hide his true intentions.


    "It was¡­ a difficult experience, Father," he said, trying to use a comforting voice, though with a slight stiffness. "The academy was destroyed, and we barely escaped with our lives. It has changed me¡­ I suppose."


    Auron watched him for a moment, evaluating him with concern, but finally sighed and hugged him again.


    "The important thing is that you''re here," he said softly. "Take the time you need to recover."


    The following days were a mix of wonder and confusion for Zakarius. As he walked through the streets of the Republic''s capital, he observed the incredible inventions the oligarchs and their scientists had achieved. Airships, machines with mechanical arms, magical devices powering the city. Everything in the Republics was a fusion of magic and technology.


    But while life in the Republics seemed perfect, Zakarius struggled with his new role. The real Elior had been a prodigious young man, a cherub who, beyond his political heritage, stood out for his brilliant intellect. But Zakarius, having taken over his body, found an unexpected obstacle: Elior had erased all his academic memories, leaving Zakarius without the technical knowledge he was expected to have.


    The first meetings and presentations at the technological academy were disastrous. Elior''s tutors and professors were accustomed to his quick learning and natural genius. But now, Zakarius was unable to follow the complex scientific discussions they held. During a class on magical crystal energy, Zakarius barely understood what was being said, and questions directed at him left him blank.


    "Elior, do you have any comments on the recent research?" one of the professors asked, eagerly anticipating the brilliant insights the young man always provided.


    Zakarius tried to deflect the question, responding vaguely.


    "Oh, I think¡­ we should look deeper into the balance of energy flows¡­" he said, hoping it would suffice.


    The faces around him showed some confusion. Elior had always been clear and precise, always with innovative ideas, but now he seemed lost and distant.


    Zakarius realized he had to move quickly to avoid his cover collapsing. He couldn''t let others notice he wasn''t the real Elior, let alone suspect. So, instead of trying to recover what Elior knew, he decided to start adapting to his environment using his own skills.


    He began studying in private, devouring texts and manuals he found in the Republics'' academy. Although the science and magic of this place were complex and advanced, Zakarius had centuries of experience in arcane energy manipulation, giving him an advantage. Over time, he was at least able to pretend he knew what he was talking about, though he was still far from the level of the real Elior.


    Additionally, he began using his ability to project his consciousness into the minds of those around him. He spied on their dreams and thoughts, learning what he should say and how he should behave. Thus, little by little, he erased the perception that Elior had become colder or more distant, replacing it with a more controlled and calculating image.


    Auron, although still worried about the changes in his son, seemed to accept the idea that the academy trauma had changed him. The love of a father for his son often blinds one to reality. And although Zakarius felt nothing for Auron, he knew this was his ticket to power and survival.


    As Zakarius adapted to his new life, he also began making long-term plans. The Republics, although neutral in the conflict with the necromancers, were powerful due to their technological advancements and mercantile economy. If he could leverage their resources and connections, he could rebuild his power from within and plan his revenge more effectively.


    However, there was a problem. In his act of erasing his memories, Elior had left Zakarius incomplete. Every time he tried to recall fragments of his past, Elior''s mind interfered. And though he had control of his body, it was as if there were always a shadow of the real Elior, blocking access to certain knowledge and abilities.


    Zakarius had to be careful. He couldn''t allow this weakness to be revealed, not while he was surrounded by people who believed him to be a genius and a prodigy.


    For now, he would maintain his cover and continue adapting to his new life. The Republics offered a temporary refuge, but Zakarius knew he couldn''t stay in the shadows forever. Eventually, the time would come to act and reclaim the power that was his by right.


    As the days passed, the shadow of war continued looming. The Republics were considering a closer alliance with the Celestials, offering technology and resources to fight the necromancers. Zakarius knew he needed to be at the forefront of these negotiations, not only to influence the outcomes but to protect his own position.


    The internal rebellion that had begun at the academy was not over. And though he now found himself in a completely different setting, his desire for destruction and dominance had not waned. It was only a matter of time before the Republics also fell under his control, or became pieces of his strategy to destroy the Celestials from the shadows.


    Auron sat in his office, a spacious room decorated with the emblems of the Celestial Oligarchic Republics. The windows displayed the city beneath the gray clouds and the constant hum of airships coming and going, but his mind was elsewhere. He held a small crystal figurine in his hands, one of many Elior had created when he was younger. Auron turned it between his fingers, remembering the days when his son used to run around the house, always smiling and full of energy, always creating, always with a spark of ingenuity in his eyes.


    "Where is my son?" Auron thought, over and over.


    Since Elior had returned from the academy, something in him had changed. It wasn''t just his behavior, colder and more distant; it was as if his very spirit had disappeared. The Elior he had known, the bright and curious young man, seemed to have vanished, leaving in his place a stranger.


    A cherub who, despite his young appearance, spoke as if he had lived a thousand years and carried a burden no child should bear.


    Auron had tried everything. He had made every effort to get close to his son, to understand what had happened at the academy. He had attempted to talk to him several times, hoping he would open up, that he would tell him what was really going on in his mind.


    "Elior," he had said one afternoon, in a conversation he hoped would be revealing, "I know what you experienced was terrible. But you don''t have to face it alone. I''m here for you."


    Elior, or rather Zakarius in Elior''s body, looked at him with those cold, calculating eyes that so unsettled Auron. There was a chill in his gaze that he had never seen before.


    "Father, I''m fine," he replied in an emotionless voice. "I''m just¡­ changing. I''m not a child, not anymore."


    "But you are," Auron thought every time his son repeated those words. Elior was still a cherub, and while it was true that cherubs changed and evolved slowly over their long and carefree lives, Elior''s changes were too abrupt. It wasn''t normal for a cherub his age, who had always been so lively and full of joy, to suddenly become so¡­ distant, so adult.


    Auron constantly blamed himself for having sent Elior as an emissary to another country. He had thought it would be a good experience for his son, a way to prepare him for the future. But now, seeing what Elior had become, he couldn''t help but regret that decision. Perhaps he had forced him to grow up too fast, to face a reality no cherub should know so young.


    Elior''s innocence, his spark, seemed to have faded.


    Auron loved him, of course, as any father would love his son, but now he found himself struggling to keep that love alive in the face of the distance he felt between them. Elior no longer sought his advice or asked for his help as he once had. He was always talking about being more independent, about not needing so much support. And while Auron understood that cherubs eventually became more autonomous over the centuries, this change had been sudden, as if from one day to the next Elior had stopped being a child.


    "I''m no longer a child," Elior would tell him, almost always with that same coldness.


    Auron didn''t know how to respond to him.


    He tried to remind himself that cherubs were whimsical by nature, sometimes extravagant and unpredictable. Maybe it was just a phase. Perhaps Elior was simply processing the trauma of what had happened at the academy. But deep down, Auron couldn''t shake the feeling that something much darker and deeper was happening. His son was not the same. There was a darkness in him that hadn''t been there before, something Auron couldn''t understand.


    Sitting in his study, holding the crystal figurine in his hand, Auron wished he could turn back time, prevent Elior from having to face all of this so soon. He longed to see the genuine smile on his son''s face again or to hear one of his brilliant ideas about the fusion of magic and technology. But every time he tried to connect with him, it seemed that Elior drifted further away.


    It was as if the real Elior had vanished, and that filled Auron with an indescribable sadness.


    He looked at the figurine once more before placing it back on his desk. He knew he had to keep trying. He had to find a way to get his son back, somehow. Perhaps, with time, Elior would find his way back. But until then, Auron found himself caught between love and bewilderment, between the duty of being a strong father and the pain of not recognizing the person before him.

 Eliors Determination

    Meanwhile, Zakarius, in Elior''s body, watched his supposed father''s attempts with a mixture of disdain and pragmatism. Auron, though powerful and affectionate, was just another piece on his board, a means to an end. However, he had to admit that the affection Auron showed him caused a slight discomfort. He wasn''t used to such emotions.


    Each time Auron tried to get close, Zakarius made an effort to keep his distance, not letting that warmth envelop him. He remembered his days as an angel, filled with power and glory, and the paternal affection from Auron was something he had never experienced in his previous life.


    But he couldn''t afford distractions. He had a plan to fulfill. In fact, he was already seeking ways to influence the Republics from within, moving the necessary pieces to secure his control over this neutral country and, eventually, over the global conflict.


    Though he tried to adapt to the life Elior had left behind, Zakarius knew his time was limited. If he didn''t consolidate his position soon, suspicions would start to arise. Thus, he needed to play the role of the prodigal son with more precision. Meanwhile, Auron continued trying to understand this strange being he once called his son.


    Zakarius, for his part, knew his mission was far from over. The rebellion he had started in the academy had not been entirely quelled, and the threads of chaos still followed their course.


    Zakarius, in Elior''s body, had started to stand out at the academy, but not in the way Auron or the professors expected. What had once been natural brilliance had transformed into outright rebellion. From being the prodigy everyone admired, Elior¡ªor rather, Zakarius¡ªbecame a troublesome student, defying rules, questioning authority, and scorning the celestial protocols he once followed without hesitation.


    The professors, who had once viewed him with awe and admiration, now found themselves bewildered. His attitude had changed radically since his return from the celestial academy. He often arrived late to classes, made sarcastic remarks, and showed an alarming indifference toward subjects he once mastered with ease. He seemed uninterested in lessons and instead spent more time exploring the restricted areas of the facilities, fascinated by the secrets and hidden technologies of the Oligarchic Republics.


    His classmates noticed the change as well. Elior, who had once been kind and curious, now seemed distant and arrogant. Rumors about what had happened to him during his time at the celestial military academy were rife; although not much had been revealed, word had spread that something terrible had occurred. Everyone attributed it to the trauma of experiencing something no cherub should have to endure so young.


    "It''s understandable; he''s been through a lot," the professors would comment among themselves. "He''s just dealing with the aftermath of what he saw there. But this is not the Elior we knew."


    Auron, for his part, grew more anguished each day. He saw how his son distanced himself more and more, the barriers between them growing day by day. He tried to talk to him, but Zakarius always evaded him with vague and cold responses. Although Auron had tried not to push him, the situation had reached a critical point. Elior, or the person he thought was his son, was spiraling further into rebellion, and Auron didn''t know what to do.


    "We must seek help," he told one of Elior''s personal tutors. "I can''t lose him like this. We need to consult the best psychologists in the Republics, the top experts in trauma and family conflicts. Maybe, with their help, we can reach him."


    The decision was made. Auron arranged a series of family therapy sessions with the most renowned experts. He wanted to understand what was happening in his son''s mind, to recover the Elior he had loved and cared for for so many years.


    However, Zakarius had other plans. Unlike the Zakarius who had awakened with a mind filled with vengeance and resentment, the new Zakarius, trapped in the body of a cherub and enjoying Elior''s power and influence, was beginning to change perspective. He had discovered that his position in the Oligarchic Republics granted him privileged access to technologies and secrets he had never dreamed of. The hidden laboratories and magical aircraft, the complex mechanisms powered by magic¡­ all of it was a treasure that exceeded any ambition he might have had as an angel.


    His hunger for power and knowledge grew. He no longer wanted just revenge against the celestials. Now he had something more interesting within his reach: dominion over the Republics and their vast technological power. Each day he delved deeper into the secrets of that society, fascinated by the devices that combined magic and science in ways the celestials would never have imagined.


    The family therapy sessions, however, were useless to him. He knew Auron only wanted to understand him, but all Zakarius could do was pretend. He played the role of the affected cherub, saying what the psychologists wanted to hear, while in his mind he schemed his next move. He enjoyed the comforts of his new life and was slowly convincing himself that he didn''t need to rush his revenge plan. Why destroy a world he could dominate?


    During one of the therapy sessions, Auron looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Son, I know you''re suffering. I want to help you. I want to understand you."


    Zakarius, with his usual coldness, replied, "Father, I''m no longer the same boy you knew. I''ve changed. What happened at the academy has shown me that the world isn''t what we imagined. I have to learn to live in it differently."


    Auron nodded, his eyes filled with worry. He couldn''t imagine the truth hidden behind those words. To him, Elior was simply going through a period of confusion and pain. But to Zakarius, these words were a veiled warning: he had begun to enjoy his position, his new life, and he didn''t plan to give it up easily.


    Zakarius moved stealthily through the corridors of the secret laboratories, where only a few high-ranking officers and scientists of the Republics had access. He knew that his status as the son of one of the three oligarchs granted him certain privileges, and he was determined to take full advantage of them.


    He had managed to infiltrate the most classified archive room, where the designs and details of magic-powered aircraft were kept, along with other, darker projects involving the manipulation of celestial essence. Each new discovery filled him with a thrill he hadn''t felt in centuries. The technology of the Republics was far more advanced than he could have ever imagined.


    "This is more than I ever dreamed..." he whispered to himself, his hands gliding over the ancient texts and schematics. Thoughts of vengeance grew increasingly distant, replaced by an intensifying desire to seize control of this power.


    The more time he spent in the Republics, the more convinced he became that a new opportunity had arisen for him. There was no need to seek revenge against the celestials or destroy the cherubim from within. His objective was now far more ambitious: to master the power of the Oligarchic Republics and wield it for his own benefit. But for that, he first had to consolidate his control over his new life and over those who still believed Elior was the young prodigy he once was.


    Zakarius smiled, satisfied with his progress. The new era of Zakarius was about to begin.


    Auron sat in his office, the dim lights and the heavy silence enveloping him like a shroud. He had tried everything within his power to recover the Elior he once knew, the prodigious child who had been the hope of his family and, perhaps, his entire nation. But he could no longer deny it: Elior had changed irreversibly, and the weight of this reality was beginning to crush him.


    The promise he had made to his wife, so many years ago, echoed in his mind. He had promised to care for him, protect him, and ensure that he grew strong and brilliant, even after she was gone. However, now, he felt he had failed. Guilt gnawed at him; he had allowed Elior to be sent to the celestial academy, pushed him into danger, and now his son had returned unrecognizable.


    Auron sighed deeply, a mix of frustration and pain. The emptiness left by his wife''s absence had grown deeper, now compounded by the fear of having lost his son as well.


    "What happened to him?" he asked himself over and over, finding no answer.


    It wasn''t only Elior''s change in attitude, but also the news he had received in recent weeks. Elior had been investigating various secret facilities of the Republics, accessing classified areas that, while not entirely off-limits for someone of his status, were places where a cherub of his age and rank was not expected to frequent so often. The reports from his subordinates were becoming troubling. There was something strange about his son''s behavior.


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    One of his most trusted subordinates, a man named Seraphis, approached him with a report in hand. Concern was evident in his eyes.


    "Sir Auron, I''ve received more reports on your son''s activities," Seraphis said seriously. "Elior has been exploring the secret facilities of the Republics. It''s not entirely unusual, but he''s doing so with alarming frequency and in places we don''t fully control. The magical technology labs, the restricted archives... we''ve even lost track of him at certain times."


    Auron clenched his fists, his face tight with pain. He couldn''t bear the thought of losing his son too. The image of his wife, of his promise, haunted him. Seraphis''s voice broke through his thoughts.


    "Sir, with your permission, I believe we should assign someone trustworthy to keep a close watch on him. I don''t want to alarm you more than necessary, but we should ensure he''s not in danger or putting anyone else at risk. We don''t want the situation to get out of hand."


    Auron nodded slowly. The idea of having to monitor his own son filled him with sadness, but he knew it was necessary. He couldn''t allow Elior to cause a disaster, especially with all the power and resources he had at his disposal.


    "Do it," Auron finally said, his voice grave and full of resignation. "Assign someone trustworthy to keep an eye on him, but discreetly. I don''t want Elior to feel betrayed."


    Seraphis nodded solemnly and left the office without another sound.


    Elior¡ªor rather, Zakarius¡ªsoon became aware of the surveillance. At first, he felt frustrated, as if his freedom was once again being curtailed. But he soon realized that his new guard, Darian, one of his father''s most trusted men, was not a real threat. Darian followed him everywhere, sometimes discreetly, sometimes less so, always making sure he was "safe." Although Zakarius found him a nuisance, he couldn''t deny that this was a sign Auron had already lowered his guard. Elior''s father had resigned himself to the idea that his son was traumatized and had accepted his change.


    However, Darian''s constant presence restricted his movements. Zakarius made several attempts to slip into more forbidden zones, but Darian was always nearby, watching, following, ensuring he did nothing dangerous. At first, Zakarius ignored him, but soon the situation began to affect him. There was something about Darian, in the way he looked at him, that reminded him of what he had lost.


    Darian deeply admired the "old Elior." The guard tried to interact with him as he had before, with respect and affection, but also with a certain condescension, as if he still saw him as a child broken by tragedy. Zakarius, unable to fully control the emotions of the body he inhabited, often found himself irritated by this attitude, yet he had to keep up appearances.


    "Elior, are you alright?" Darian asked gently, sometimes after Zakarius displayed strange or evasive behavior.


    "Yes, of course... I''m fine," Zakarius replied, masking his impatience.


    At times, Darian could be rude, setting rules and boundaries, treating Zakarius like a child who needed constant supervision. This deeply irritated Zakarius, who had once lived as one of the most powerful and respected angels, now reduced to a mere cherub under the tutelage of a guardian who underestimated him.


    "I know you do it for my father''s sake," Zakarius said one day, staring directly at him. "But I don''t need your care. I''m not a child anymore, Darian."


    "I know, Elior," Darian replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But your father is worried, and I... Well, it''s hard not to worry about you after everything you''ve been through. Sometimes, I just want to make sure you''re alright."


    Zakarius scoffed but let the conversation pass. He knew Darian wasn''t his enemy, but the constant surveillance made it harder to carry out his plan. Despite everything, he found solace in the thought that, at least for now, Auron and his subordinates suspected nothing. Everyone believed Elior''s changes were the result of trauma, which gave him time to keep investigating and planning.


    Zakarius continued his research in the secret facilities of the Republics, learning more about advanced magic and technology combined. There were machines that defied the laws of nature, artifacts that could manipulate reality itself, and possibilities to use celestial magic in ways angels had never dreamed of.


    Although Darian followed him everywhere, Zakarius found ways to evade his vigilance. He had learned to move stealthily, to divert the attention of his bodyguard, and to slip away at opportune moments to explore the most forbidden areas.


    He knew he had to act cautiously. He couldn''t afford a single mistake. If he were discovered, his entire plan could crumble. But with each passing day, Zakarius felt his control over his new life solidifying. The secrets of the Oligarchic Republics were within his reach, and now it was only a matter of time before he found a way to leverage this power for his own ends.


    As Zakarius roamed the hidden corridors and restricted archives of the Republics'' most secret installations, he finally stumbled upon something that left him fascinated: a top-secret project known as the "Technomagic Colossi." These were a series of massive mechs, created through a fusion of advanced technology and celestial magic, capable of turning the tide of any war. It was a weapon that could shift the balance of power to whoever controlled it.


    However, delving into the reports, Zakarius discovered that the project had been shelved due to a lack of funds and resources. The design was in its infancy, with only a few half-assembled prototypes, and the team in charge had been reduced to a minimum due to the lack of government support. The war with the necromancers had drained most of the Republics'' resources, and experimental projects like this one were deemed too costly.


    But Zakarius saw the potential. These mechs could not only serve as a decisive tool in the war against the necromancers, but they could also stand as a symbol of power and technological superiority, giving the Republics a means to gain influence in the celestial world. Elior¡ªor rather, Zakarius¡ªcould not let the opportunity to complete this project slip by.


    Zakarius knew he would need his father Auron''s support to revive the project. However, after his recent erratic and distant behavior, reconnecting with him would require finesse. Despite their tensions, Zakarius decided to use his new position and the growing trust that Auron was once again placing in him.


    "Father," he said one evening, in an unusually calm tone as they shared a private dinner at the family residence, "I''ve been researching the military development areas in the Republics, and I found something that... could change everything."


    Auron looked up from his plate, surprised by his son''s direct tone. In his eyes, for the first time in a long while, he saw a spark of genuine interest. Elior had always been curious, but this level of focus was something he hadn''t seen in him since before his time at the academy.


    "What is it?" he asked, a mix of curiosity and caution in his voice.


    Zakarius explained what he had discovered: the technomagic mechs, their potential to offer a crushing advantage in the war, and how an investment in this project could alter the course of the conflict and secure the future of the Republics as a global power.


    "Father, these colossi are not just weapons," Zakarius said, his voice filled with conviction. "They''re the key to our survival. The necromancers are advancing, and we know that sooner or later, the war will come here. If we''re not prepared, we''ll fall."


    Auron listened in silence, but something in his eyes began to change. There was an echo of the former brilliance in Elior''s words, the genius that had once defined his son. Although something dark and distant remained, for the first time in a long time, Auron felt hope. Perhaps Elior was not as lost as he had feared.


    "It''s a considerable investment," Auron replied, though his tone was now more contemplative than skeptical. "Are you certain these mechs are what we need?"


    Zakarius nodded firmly. He knew his father had reasons to doubt, but he also knew the situation was desperate. Besides, there was a game of manipulation that he mastered better than anyone.


    "There''s no time for doubts, Father. If we don''t take the initiative, others will destroy us," he insisted, seeking to instill in Auron the urgency of the moment. "This project is the spark we need."


    Auron watched his son in silence for a few more moments. He knew Elior well enough to know that he never spoke without thinking, and there was something in the way he defended the project that stirred memories of the brilliant child he once was. Auron felt a mixture of nostalgia and hope, though he also knew that something in Elior had broken. He wasn''t the same as before, but perhaps¡­ just maybe, that spark of brilliance still burned within him.


    "Alright, Elior," he finally said, with a resigned sigh. "I''ll get this project started. I''ll allocate the necessary funds and ensure you have all the support you need to make these mechs work."


    Zakarius smiled, but it was a measured smile. He knew his plan was advancing, and with the resources of the Republics at his disposal, the Technomagic Colossi would be the key to consolidating his power. The war would change not only for the Republics but for him as well¡ªZakarius, who now held a tool of immense power under his control.


    The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. Engineers, mages, and scientists gathered under the direction of the new "Elior" to work on the Technomagic Colossi. Although Zakarius didn''t have the technical knowledge of his former self, his ability to project authority and manipulate those around him allowed him to earn the researchers'' respect. Additionally, the presence of Darian, his bodyguard and protector, added a layer of legitimacy to his decisions.


    As the work progressed, Auron couldn''t help but observe his son from the shadows. There was something different about him, something he couldn''t fully understand, but that also filled him with pride. Elior seemed to have regained part of his former genius, his initiative, and although he remained distant, he had a new sense of purpose that made Auron think that perhaps not all was lost.


    However, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of his mind. Why had Elior changed so much? What had really happened on that trip to the academy? The questions remained unanswered, but for now, Auron decided to let his son move forward with the project. The fate of the Republics was at stake, and perhaps, just perhaps, this project would be the salvation they so desperately needed.


    Meanwhile, Zakarius was planning in silence. The construction of the mechs was not only a weapon for the Republics but also a tool for his own ascent. With these colossi at his disposal, he could once again sow chaos within the celestial ranks, consolidating his influence in both the celestial and mortal worlds.


    He knew he still needed to keep up appearances, to be careful with each step he took, especially with Darian and his father watching him. But for now, he had everything he needed to advance his plan. And soon, the heavens would burn.