《Breaking Will of Eternity》 Vol 0 Chapter 1: The End... or The Beginning? -----Chapter 1: The End... or The Beginning?----- "Horizon" The Horizon¡ªa vast space where the Upper Realm and Lower Realm meet, connecting countless worlds. It is said to hold the stairway to the heavens, acting as the link that keeps the three realms¡ªthe Upper Realm, the Lower Realm, and Purgatory¡ªbalanced. For ages, the Horizon has been sacred, a point of peace so powerful that even the gods and the Devil avoided disturbing its mysteries. But now, the Horizon is cracking. Its foundations are breaking apart, and with it, the bond between the realms begins to unravel. The Heavenly Garden loses its radiance, the Lower Realm teeters on the edge of chaos, and the Devil''s Monotone awakens with an eerie presence. With the realms splitting, the future of all existence hangs by a thread. --- In the vast sky of the Upper Realm, in the heart of the Heavenly Garden¡­ Stars scattered across the sky surrounded a sanctuary, a protective shield that covered it like a layer of divine force. These stars were not just lights¡ªthey were Gods, each with its own power, watching over the sanctuary with growing concern. Their light flickered, casting nervous shadows over the sacred space. In the center of this space, seven figures sat in a circle. Each one radiated a power beyond anything mortal, and their presence filled the air with a heavy silence, as though waiting for someone to speak. Finally, one figure could not stay silent any longer. His voice was deep and strong, echoing through the space. "How could the connection be shattered?"Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The figure, clad in golden armor and holding a golden staff, radiated authority. An eyepatch covered his right eye, but the other glowed with vast knowledge. He was Odin, the Allfather. His voice was calm but filled with worry. "If we knew the answer, we wouldn''t be here," another voice replied. This god was as powerful as Odin, his form surrounded by a crackling light of lightning. He was Zeus, the King of the Olympia. He leaned forward, his face tense. "We should focus on what comes next. We don''t have time to search for the cause." "What happens now?" a third god asked. His voice was rich and noble, and it echoed through the vastness. He was Ra, the Sun God, radiating warmth and calm, but a cloud of doubt was in his eyes. "The Horizon is breaking, and with it, the bond between the realms. Can we undo the damage already done?" "We need to focus on finding a solution, not wasting time on the cause," a steady voice said. This god sat calmly on a lotus, surrounded by tools of creation. He was Brahma, the God of Creation. "We can''t afford to delay any longer." "Not find the cause?" Another voice interrupted, filled with disdain. A god, sitting with his legs crossed, glared at Brahma. His aura was sharp and commanding. He was Olodumare, the God of Divine Order. "You would suggest we ignore what''s causing the problem?" "Are you saying we''re powerless, Brahma?" Olodumare sneered, his tone cold and cutting. "To act without understanding will only make things worse." "Even after countless failures, do you truly think we can understand the sacred point, Olodumare?" A golden figure spoke up. His body shone with the power of the universe''s laws. He was Buddha, the God of Wisdom. His voice was calm, as always, but there was a quiet strength in his words. "The sacred point is beyond simple understanding. True power lies in knowing when to act, even when we don''t have all the answers." Olodumare stared at Buddha for a moment, but didn''t speak. The tension between them was clear. It was a quiet battle of ideals¡ªorder against wisdom, action against understanding. Zeus broke the silence. "Brahma is right. We need to act. The realms are falling apart. The longer we wait, the harder it will be to fix." Ra nodded, his eyes staring at the stars above. "But we don''t even know what caused this. Can we stop it without knowing what started it?" Brahma spoke again, his voice calm but firm. "Maybe we don''t need to understand it all, but we have to begin. Creation always starts with a single step. We can''t wait forever." Zeus looked at Odin. "What do you think, Allfather?" Odin''s single eye burned with ancient wisdom. "It is wisdom, yes. But also urgency. The devils below stir, and we can''t wait any longer. The path ahead may be unclear, but we must take action." --- Far below, in the cold and silent Devil''s Monotone, the atmosphere was starkly different from the Heavenly Garden. The Purgatory was a place of suffering, where darkness ruled and hope was all but lost. At its heart, a massive castle loomed, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch over the entire realm. It was filled with dread, suffocating the air. In the throne room, shadows twisted around the Devil, who sat on his throne with a sinister smile. His eyes, glowing blood-red, radiated pure malice. His presence alone commanded fear. "Is it true? The connection is broken?" The Devil''s voice was smooth, laced with amusement. "Yes, My Lord. The sacred point has shattered, separating all the realms," a demon replied, bowing before him. The Devil''s lips curled into a wicked grin. ''What will you do now, my little gods? Your so called source of divine power is gone. Let the chaos begin.'' --- As the gods deliberate in the Heavenly Garden, the stars, minor gods in their own right, pulse erratically, their source of power fading. The gods feel the shift, and a growing unease fills the air. The balance of the realms is collapsing. The disappearance of the sacred point marks the beginning of an unknown future. Will it bring about the end of all things, or will a new era rise from the ashes? Only time will tell. Vol 0 Chapter 2: The First Calamity -----Chapter 2: The First Calamity----- The Horizon had always been there, though few in the Lower Realm truly understood its nature. It was not something one could see with the naked eye, nor touch with mortal hands. Yet its presence was felt in the way the skies stretched unbroken, the way the stars shimmered in their eternal dance, and the way each world stood firm in its place. To those who looked beyond the ordinary, the Horizon was a silent guardian¡ªa veil that held the multitudes of the Lower Realm together, bridging the infinite worlds and keeping the fragile threads of existence intact. Though invisible to most, it was the quiet hum that underpinned reality, a delicate weave of balance and stability. But now, that hum was gone. The veil had lifted, and with it, the safety it once ensured. Its disappearance should have shaken the very fabric of existence, but in the Lower Realm¡ªa boundless expanse of worlds¡ªit went unnoticed. For the countless beings who thrived in these realms, life carried on as it always had. The skies stretched high, the rivers flowed wide, and the stars twinkled above, unbothered by the truth that the tether binding their realities had been severed. At first, there was no sign of calamity. Days passed, and nothing seemed amiss. But the stillness carried a weight, a silence that grew louder with each passing moment. Then, in some quiet corner of the Lower Realm, it began. --- It started with a fracture. A line, thin and faint, carved itself into the endless sky. At first glance, it was almost imperceptible¡ªa mere distortion against the heavens. But as moments stretched into minutes, the line grew. It splintered outward, jagged and unrelenting, like the cracking surface of fragile glass. Those who saw it stared in silence, their minds unable to comprehend what their eyes beheld. The sky, once eternal, was breaking.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. And beyond those fractures was Nothingness. Not darkness, nor shadow, but the absence of all things¡ªa void so profound it seemed to pull at the edges of the soul. Those who looked too long felt an inexplicable terror, as though the Nothingness was reaching out to claim them. "What is that?" a voice whispered in fear, but no answer came. --- In another part of the realm, a group of travelers stood at the edge of a great cliff, watching as the land beyond began to crumble. The process was slow at first, almost gentle. Rocks cracked and fell into the abyss, their echoes swallowed by the void. Then the ground itself buckled, folding inward as though consumed by an invisible force. Entire forests collapsed, their ancient trees disintegrating into ash before vanishing entirely. The travelers stepped back in horror as the cracks spread toward them. One of them, a young woman, clutched at the pendant around her neck and began to pray, her voice trembling. The others watched, their faces pale, as the Nothingness crept ever closer. --- In some distant corner of the Lower Realm, a city of spires and magic met its end. The first sign was a tremor. It rippled through the ground, subtle but unyielding. The people paused, their routines interrupted by the faint rumble beneath their feet. Then came the second tremor, stronger, deeper¡ªenough to shatter windows and topple market stalls. Panic erupted as the sky above began to crack. The fractures spread like a web, casting eerie shadows over the streets. From the highest towers to the smallest alleys, people stopped to stare at the Nothingness beyond the cracks. "It''s the end," someone whispered. "No," another replied, their voice breaking. "It can''t be." But the truth was undeniable. The ground beneath them splintered and fell away, taking entire districts with it. Those who ran found no refuge, only more cracks, more Nothingness. --- Across the Lower Realm, the story repeated itself. In one place, a great ocean drained away, its waters vanishing into the void until only barren seabeds remained. In another, mountains crumbled, their mighty peaks reduced to dust in a matter of moments. Entire cities, once bustling with life, became ruins swallowed by the Nothingness. And in every corner, the reactions were the same. Some fell to their knees, paralyzed by despair. Others screamed, their voices raw with terror. A few stood defiant, wielding weapons or magic against the encroaching void, but their efforts were futile. The cracks advanced without mercy, consuming all in their path. In one shattered land, a young child clung to her father''s hand as they ran from the collapsing horizon. Her tears fell freely, her small voice trembling. "Where do we go now, Papa?" Her father''s eyes were empty. He had no answer. --- The calamity spread faster than anyone could comprehend. Time and space unraveled, twisting into incomprehensible shapes before vanishing entirely. The realms that had once stood as symbols of life and creation now crumbled like sandcastles before a rising tide. And as the cracks widened, those who stared into the Nothingness began to change. Some simply froze, their minds unable to bear the weight of the void. Others wept uncontrollably, clutching at whatever fragments of their world remained. But there were a few who, in the face of annihilation, found a quiet acceptance. They stood at the edge of the destruction, their eyes reflecting the Nothingness, and whispered their final goodbyes. --- And so, the Lower Realm fell into chaos. Worlds vanished, civilizations were erased, and the universe itself trembled on the brink of collapse. Yet even amidst the devastation, whispers began to spread. Whispers of a figure who had foreseen this calamity. Whispers of a group that might hold the key to salvation. But for now, hope was nothing more than an echo, faint and fleeting. The first calamity had begun, and its ripples would be felt across all existence. Vol 0 Chapter 3: The Echoes of Chaos -----Chapter 3: The Echo Of Chaos----- The calamity had struck without warning. The skies themselves seemed to break apart as if the heavens were tearing under the weight of its enormity. Destruction swept across the realms¡ªgodly, demonic, and mortal alike. A disaster beyond comprehension, it shattered the very foundations of existence. As the echoes of this unprecedented event reverberated across the multiverse, each being in its respective realm struggled to comprehend its meaning. --- Across countless worlds and realms, the aftermath of the calamity was as widespread as it was devastating. In one corner, a kingdom lay in ruin, its great citadels reduced to ash. A once vibrant forest, teeming with life, now stood silent, the trees mere husks, their leaves like brittle paper crumbling at the touch. In a village, a man stood amidst the rubble, his eyes wide, gazing at the destruction. "What has happened?" His voice cracked as he stumbled forward, his heart heavy with sorrow. The earth beneath him seemed to tremble as though it, too, mourned. He had no answers. No understanding. Only the stark horror of an empty world. Elsewhere, across a fractured continent, warriors stood upon a blood-soaked battlefield, clutching weapons with trembling hands. The gods, the devils, the very forces that had shaped their existence, seemed far away, indifferent to their suffering. "How could this happen?" a soldier muttered, looking up at the darkening sky, where the celestial bodies seemed askew. There was no sign from the heavens, no command from the divine. Only silence. And in the vastness of the lower realms, where mortals and other beings struggled for survival, the devastation spread like wildfire. Different races, from towering giants to ethereal creatures, all felt the weight of the phenomenon, each in their own way. Some, driven by rage, began to rally their forces, while others, gripped by grief, sought solace in their shattered homes. Yet, none could comprehend the full extent of the cataclysm. They were but pawns in a game whose rules they did not understand. --- In the divine council chamber, the gods had gathered to deliberate on the fate of the lower realms. They stood, poised and composed, the weight of the decision before them pressing down like a storm cloud. Sun Wukong''s voice rang out, full of energy and defiance. "We cannot simply watch as the world burns! The mortals must be given guidance, given the strength to survive, to fight back against the chaos!" Buddha, seated with eyes closed in deep contemplation, responded softly, "Rushing to intervene is not the answer. The calamity may be a trial, one that tests the strength of the mortals. We must wait, observe, and only then decide how to act. We cannot make their choices for them."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Odin''s voice, heavy with authority, broke through. "The balance is shifting. The devils are already using this calamity to their advantage. If we do not act soon, we risk losing everything. The mortals, no matter how strong they may become, cannot defend themselves against the devils'' forces without our help." Zeus, his voice thundering like the storms he commanded, added, "The mortals are weak. Without intervention, they will be crushed. We must give them the strength to defend themselves, to stand tall in the face of the growing darkness." Narayana, ever the voice of reason, spoke last. "We cannot simply impose our will upon them. If we give them strength, we must also give them the opportunity to choose their path. The mortals must rise, not by our hand, but by their own. The fate of the lower realms lies in their hands." The gods'' debate continued, the air thick with tension. It was clear that they were divided. The question remained: how could they provide assistance without overstepping their bounds? --- Below, in the fiery pits of Purgatory, the devil sat upon his dark throne, eyes burning with excitement as the calamity unfolded before him. He saw this as a moment of opportunity, a chance to tip the scales in his favor. "It begins," the devil whispered, a cruel smile curling upon his lips. "The mortals are weak, their worlds already on the brink. Once they have been torn apart by the chaos, we will sweep in, and the lower realms will be ours for the taking." His generals, towering figures of shadow and flame, nodded eagerly, their eyes gleaming with hunger. One demon, bellowing with excitement, spoke of blood and glory. "The mortals will fall, Master. And when they do, we will be the ones to claim the spoils." The devil''s gaze turned cold, his smile widening. "Indeed, their suffering will be our gain. Once we conquer the lower realm, nothing will stand between us and the heavens themselves." --- The humans of the lower realms, clueless as to the source of the calamity, struggled to survive amidst the wreckage. Fear and confusion were their constant companions. Their once-bustling cities were now ghost towns, and their people, scattered and broken, were left to pick up the pieces. A young woman, clutching her brother''s lifeless body, knelt in the ashes of her home. "Why?" she whispered through clenched teeth. "Why must this happen to us?" A child, no older than six, looked up at the dark sky, the stars hidden behind an endless veil of smoke. "Will the gods help us?" she asked, her voice trembling. An elder, stooped and weary, stood before them, his hands shaking. "There is no help. Only us. We must find a way to survive... for those who have fallen, and those who will." But they did not know how, or where to go. They only knew that the world they had once known was no more, and with it, their understanding of the divine. --- The gods'' council remained fraught with tension, as their disagreement lingered in the air. The urgency to act was palpable, but their course of action was not clear. "I cannot stand by," Sun Wukong said, clenching his fists. "We must show them the way to fight. The mortals must have the strength to defend themselves and to protect their own." Zeus, always eager to take charge, responded, "The time for talk is over. We must open the gates and give them the tools to stand against the devils. They will need our help to survive the coming storm." But Narayana, ever the calm presence, spoke with wisdom. "We will not intervene directly. We will offer them the chance to grow stronger. We will open the gates to other realms, to those that are destroyed, or on the brink of destruction. But it is up to them to decide their own fate." And with that, the gods agreed: they would open the portals to the many lower realms, each one teetering on the edge of annihilation, each offering the mortals the potential to grow and rise. The gods would not directly intervene, for they had no authority over mortal decisions. But they would give the mortals the tools to defend themselves, and perhaps, the chance to reshape their destiny. --- The devil, watching from the shadows, felt a flicker of concern. He had anticipated this. The gods were giving the mortals a chance. But even so, he did not falter. He would use the chaos to his advantage. While the gods opened their gates, he would unleash his forces on the lower realms, pressing forward with his plan to consume and conquer. "The balance is tipping," the devil muttered to himself. "But it will be ours. No mortal, no matter how strong, can stand against the weight of our power." --- And so, as the gates to countless lower realms opened, the mortals were left to face the unknown. The gods had given them the chance to rise, but it was their decision, their strength, that would ultimately decide their fate. The balance of power was fragile, and the future uncertain. What lay ahead could change everything¡ªor bring about the end of all. Vol 0 Chapter 4: The Reckoning in the Heavenly Garden -----Chapter 4: The Reckoning in the Heavenly Garden----- The Heavenly Garden was a place of wonder, where sparkling light and gentle colors mixed with the beauty of nature. Long ago, this garden had been a perfect home for the gods¡ªa place where every tree, flower, and stream shone with divine grace. But now, the garden showed signs of pain. The horizon, which once had a smooth, bright line, was broken and jagged. It seemed to tell the story of a deep wound that even the gods could not ignore. In the heart of the garden stood a grand pavilion made of white marble and soft, glowing vines. Here, the gods had gathered to discuss the troubling changes that had come with the lower realm''s loss of faith. They all knew that their own power depended on the belief and trust of mortal beings. If the mortals stopped believing, the gods would slowly lose the divine spark that made them immortal. Aurelius, the oldest and wisest among them, began the meeting. His deep, calm voice filled the space. "Friends," he said, "our power comes from the faith of those in the lower realms. Without their belief, we are slowly fading. Look at the horizon¡ªit is broken, much like our connection to them." Celestine, known for her gentle wisdom, nodded. "It is true," she replied. "Our strength was built on the devotion of mortals. But now, with chaos spreading below, their faith is weakening, and with it, our light dims." Their words were simple but heavy with meaning. Outside the pavilion, the Heavenly Garden did not look as it once did. The vibrant flowers drooped, and the once clear and shining streams now moved slowly as if burdened by sadness. The air, once filled with a soft, cheerful hum, carried a hint of worry. High above, the shattered horizon seemed to pulse with a mix of light and darkness. It was a clear sign that something was deeply wrong. Lorian, a young god whose bright aura was now flickering uncertainly, stepped forward. "I feel my strength fading," he confessed quietly. "Our power is tied to mortal faith, and if that faith is lost, some of us might stop being gods altogether." Aurelius looked at Lorian with kind but serious eyes. "You speak the truth. We have long depended on the belief of mortals. Now, their doubts and fears have weakened that bond, and we feel it in every part of our being." A brief pause followed before Marcellus, known for his bold and fiery spirit, spoke up. "We cannot just sit here and let this happen," he said firmly. "If the mortals lose hope, then chaos will rule both the lower realms and our own. We must remind them that we are here to guide and protect them." Celestine replied, her tone soft yet firm, "Marcellus, we must act wisely. We cannot simply force our help upon them; we need to inspire their trust so that their own hearts will rise again." Their conversation was short and to the point¡ªeach god saying only what was needed. The simple exchange was a sign that, even among divine beings, time was short and every word counted. Outside the marble walls, the garden told its own story. Towering trees with silver leaves and glowing branches reached upward, but even they seemed troubled. The gentle streams, once clear as crystal, now showed hints of turbulence. It was as if nature itself mourned the loss of balance and order. In a quiet corner of the pavilion, Seraphine, a soft-spoken god with a healing touch, added her voice to the discussion. "The disorder we see is not only our fault. The lower realm is filled with confusion and pain. Their struggles affect us, too. We must find a way to heal both realms."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Aurelius agreed. "We must send emissaries to the mortals. They need to see that we are still their protectors, still capable of guiding them even in these dark times. This is the only way to rebuild the faith that keeps our divinity alive." A short dialogue followed among the gods chosen for the task. Lorian, finding courage in the responsibility, said, "I will go with the emissaries. I have felt our strength diminish, and I believe that by reaching out to the mortals, we can begin to mend our broken bond." Celestine smiled gently and added, "Let our presence be a warm light for them, a reminder of better times when our guidance made all the difference." In another small circle, Marcellus, his eyes burning with determination, spoke once more. "We cannot let our divine legacy slip away. We must act now. Even if our power is fading, our duty remains. The lower realm must not be left to drown in chaos." Aurelius then made a final, clear promise to everyone. "We will not allow our bond with the mortals to break completely. Our actions will be careful, yet strong. We will remind them of our promise to protect and guide. Through their renewed faith, we too shall be reborn." As the gods finished their brief yet heartfelt exchanges, the focus of their discussion shifted to the state of the Heavenly Garden itself. Every part of this sacred space showed a mix of its former glory and the new signs of decay. Great arches of light that once spanned the sky now had visible cracks. Pools of energy that used to shimmer with pure brilliance were disturbed by ripples of uncertainty. The broken horizon, visible from every angle, was the most painful symbol of all. It reminded everyone that nothing was safe, not even the heavens. Gods with lower divinity could be seen in the corners, their glow dimmer, as if they were on the edge of losing their godhood. Their faces, usually full of calm and certainty, now carried worry and fear. One of these gods, Arion, who had always been a steady force of calm, murmured quietly, "I feel my strength slipping away. It is as if the very faith that once made me divine is now turning to dust." His friend, Nerina, tried to comfort him, saying, "We are not alone in this, Arion. We must stand together, even as our powers weaken. Perhaps this challenge will teach us a new way to be strong." The simple, honest words of Arion and Nerina spread through the gathering, showing that even among gods, fear was natural when faced with uncertain times. With the meeting drawing to a close, the gods prepared to act. Their plan was clear: send emissaries to the lower realm and work to restore the faith that had begun to falter. They knew that every small act of kindness and guidance could help mend the broken bond between the heavens and the earth. As dusk came over the Heavenly Garden, the gentle light faded slowly, merging with the soft shadows that began to dance among the ancient trees. The gods left the pavilion with heavy hearts but determined spirits. They had to face the lower realm and show its people that hope was not lost, that the divine presence still cared. The garden, with its mixed beauty and subtle decay, stood as a reminder of what was at risk. It was a place where magic and wonder had once flourished, and it could be restored if the gods and mortals worked together. The broken horizon, a visible scar in the sky, would be healed only if the bond between belief and divinity was rebuilt. In the quiet moments after the meeting, the gods could almost hear the soft whisper of hope carried by the wind¡ªa gentle call to renew the faith that had once united all realms. The path ahead was uncertain, and every step carried risk, but the promise of a future where both gods and mortals could thrive together was strong enough to light the way. And so, with simple words and clear hearts, the gods stepped forward into the fading light, determined to restore what had been broken and to show that even in times of great challenge, hope could still be found. Just as the gods reached their decision, a sudden, eerie tremor shook the very fabric of the cosmos. In an instant, the universe itself seemed to rebel¡ªscattering stars, worlds, and the essence of life into disarray. The familiar order that held the realms together wavered, replaced by a wild chaos that swept through every corner of existence, leaving gods and mortals alike to confront a new, overwhelming uncertainty. Vol 0 Chapter 5: The Changes in the Purgatory -----Chapter 5: The Devil''s Council ----- Deep within the heart of Purgatory, where shadows pulsed like living things and the air reeked of brimstone, a council of darkness gathered. The chamber, carved from obsidian and slick with the essence of torment, stretched endlessly, its ceiling lost in a void of writhing darkness. The walls pulsed with an eerie glow, veins of molten fire snaking through them like a breathing organism. A table, vast and jagged, stood at the center, formed from the shattered bones of fallen gods. Around it, seated on thrones sculpted from suffering itself, were the highest demons of the underworld. A thick tension lingered in the air, a pressure so dense that lesser beings would have crumbled beneath it. For the first time in eons, the balance of the realms had shifted, and they, the masters of ruin, now had a choice to make. Balgrith, the Warlord of Annihilation, moved first. His form, towering and monstrous, radiated raw destruction. His skin was a fusion of molten rock and blackened steel, his very presence causing the table beneath his massive hands to crack. When he spoke, it was as if the earth itself groaned under his voice. "Enough deliberation. The gods will act, and so must we. They will attempt to mend the rift, to guide the mortals back into their embrace. I say we shatter their hopes before they can even take root. We march upon the Lower Realm and leave nothing but ash!" His declaration sent a ripple through the chamber, but not all shared his hunger for immediate devastation. A slow chuckle echoed from the opposite side of the table. Izerion, the Whisperer, leaned back in his seat, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. Slender fingers traced the rim of a goblet filled with thick, dark ichor. Where Balgrith embodied raw destruction, Izerion was the embodiment of corruption¡ªan artist who worked in lies, a sculptor whose hands twisted fate itself. "And what then, oh great destroyer?" he mused, taking a slow sip. "You burn their homes, crush their cities, slaughter their weak... and in doing so, you hand the gods exactly what they need." Balgrith''s molten gaze narrowed. "Explain yourself, snake," he growled. "Gladly." Izerion set his goblet down, leaning forward with a smile sharp enough to cut. "When mortals are destroyed, they do not despair. They do not curse their gods. No, my dear Balgrith, they become martyrs. They become symbols of resistance. And in death, their faith in the heavens will burn brighter than ever." The chamber fell into silence, a silence thick with contemplation. Balgrith''s fists clenched, the metal of his gauntlets groaning under his grip, but he did not immediately counter. Even he, in his thirst for war, knew there was truth in Izerion''s words.Stolen story; please report. From the shadows, another voice drifted into the space like a poisoned lullaby. Velmora, the Mistress of Illusions, let out a quiet, amused hum. Her form was ever-shifting, a mirage of flickering beauty and horror, her silhouette bending and twisting like mist caught in unseen currents. "Perhaps we do not need mindless destruction," she murmured, her voice layered with eerie echoes. "Perhaps we let them destroy themselves." Balgrith turned to her, his scowl deepening, but she continued before he could interrupt. "Think, dear warlord. If we descend upon them in fire and rage, the gods will have an easy enemy to rally against. But if we plant the seeds of doubt, if we turn the mortals against their so-called saviors, then we will have already won before the first blade is drawn." She leaned forward, fingers gliding over the bone-carved table as if tracing the strings of fate itself. "We send whispers before we send fire. False prophets to lead them astray. Miracles that crumble into curses. Kings driven mad by paranoia. Let their trust in the gods rot from within, so that when the heavens finally reach out to them¡­ they slap the hand away themselves." Balgrith''s scowl did not fade, but his silence was enough to show he was considering it. A slow, wicked grin spread across Izerion''s lips. "So we are agreed," he said, voice smooth as silk. Balgrith exhaled sharply, but then nodded. "A twofold strike," he muttered. "First, we corrupt. Then, we annihilate." The council fell into grim agreement. Without another word, they rose as one and made their way toward the towering doors at the far end of the chamber. Beyond them lay the throne room of their lord. The doors swung open with a sound like shattering mountains, revealing a space that defied logic itself. The Devil''s throne room was endless and finite at once, an abyss where time and space bled into one another. The walls were woven from shadows deeper than night, shifting with every heartbeat. The air was thick, oppressive, heavy with a power that coiled around the soul like unseen chains. At the center of it all sat the Devil himself. He was an enigma, his form ever-shifting yet unchanging. Eyes like twin stars burning with malice regarded his subordinates with amusement, his lips curled into the faintest smirk. His very presence was suffocating, an unspoken reminder that here, in this realm, he was not merely a king¡ªhe was everything. The demons kneeled before him. Izerion spoke first. "My Lord, we have come to a decision." The Devil tilted his head, a silent invitation to continue. Velmora stepped forward. "We will let the mortals destroy themselves first," she purred. "We will send whispers before we send war. Let them turn on one another. Let their faith crumble into dust. And when they are weak¡­" Balgrith finished her sentence. "We will burn whatever remains." The Devil''s gaze swept across them, lingering on each in turn. And then, slowly, he chuckled. It was a sound like the grinding of the universe''s bones, like the dying breath of forgotten gods. "Good." His voice was soft, yet it carried across the room like a decree carved into the very fabric of existence. He leaned forward, resting his chin upon his knuckles, amusement dancing in his infernal eyes. "Then what are you waiting for?" He smiled, and the room darkened. "Prepare." Purgatory roared to life. The underworld, once stagnant and brooding, became a hive of motion. Legion upon legion of demons stirred from their slumber, their blades forged anew in the rivers of torment. The Weavers of Plague wove sickness into existence, curses laced into every breath of air. The Shadow Priests raised their hands to the abyss, summoning false gods and hollow miracles to deceive the desperate. War beasts, long shackled, shattered their chains, their roars shaking the very foundations of the realm. From the depths of darkness, the Devil''s emissaries began their march. And above it all, upon his throne of ruin, the Devil watched with a knowing smile. "Let the gods believe they still have a chance," he murmured. "Let them whisper of hope." His eyes gleamed as the first shadow passed through the veil, stepping into the unsuspecting world. "For soon, it will be nothing but dust." --- Just as the demons reached their decision, a sudden, eerie tremor shook the very fabric of the cosmos. In an instant, the universe itself seemed to rebel¡ªscattering stars, worlds, and the essence of life into disarray. The familiar order that held the realms together wavered, replaced by a wild chaos that swept through every corner of existence, leaving gods, the demons and mortals alike to confront a new, overwhelming uncertainty. Vol 0 Chapter 6: The Universes Decree -----Chapter 6: The Universe''s Decree----- The Heavenly Garden Aurelius stood at the edge of the grand pavilion, his eyes locked onto the horizon that no longer obeyed them. The air had shifted¡ªnot in a way mortals could perceive, but to a god, it was unmistakable. It was thinner, lighter, as though something fundamental had been stripped away from existence itself. He reached out with his divine senses, attempting to grasp the threads of fate that had long connected the Lower Realm to their will. And for the first time in all of eternity¡ª Nothing answered. A sharp breath left him, an unnatural thing for a being that no longer required air to exist. The realization hit with the weight of mountains. Their dominion was gone. "Impossible¡­" Celestine''s voice trembled, her hands clutching at her chest as if she could physically pull back the power that had been taken. Her golden glow flickered unsteadily. "This cannot be happening." The other gods stirred, uncertainty rippling through them. A few tested their divine abilities, attempting to call forth miracles upon the Lower Realm, only to be met with silence. Even Brahma, whose connection to creation itself had never faltered, furrowed his brow as the weight of the loss settled upon him. "The mortals," Ra muttered, his radiant form dimming slightly. "They are beyond our reach." Aurelius turned sharply, his expression colder than the void beyond the stars. "Not just beyond our reach¡ªbeyond our rule. The Lower Realm no longer bends to our authority." The words sent a shudder through the gathered gods. It was unthinkable. For as long as existence had been shaped, the gods had stood as the guiding hands behind fate. They had dictated the rise and fall of empires, granted blessings to the worthy, and punished the wicked. The very concept of a world without their influence was¡ª Unacceptable. Odin''s single eye burned with ancient wisdom, but even he could not hide the unease in his voice. "There is only one force capable of such an act. It is not the Devil. It is not some unknown power." The gods turned to him, awaiting the words they already feared. "The Universe itself has decided." Silence followed. In the vastness of the Heavenly Garden, where celestial light had once danced in endless harmony, uncertainty reigned. The power they had wielded for eons had been stripped from them by a force they could not challenge. The gods were no longer rulers. They were merely watchers.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. And for the first time in their immortal existence¡ª They did not know what came next. The Purgatory The obsidian towers of Purgatory trembled, their dark spires groaning under an unseen force. The rivers of brimstone, which had once burned with ceaseless infernal fire, were beginning to cool. The air, once thick with the suffering of the damned, had lost its oppressive weight. The great halls, carved from the bones of the forsaken, were filled with unease. Demon Lords, creatures who had known nothing but unchallenged dominance, now stood in tense silence. Something was wrong. Their connection to the Lower Realm was no longer absolute. Balgrith clenched his fists, his molten veins pulsating with unstable energy. His form, which once radiated destruction, now flickered like a dying flame. "What trickery is this?" he bellowed, his voice sending cracks through the walls. None answered. Even Izerion, who had always spoken with smug certainty, remained silent, his silver eyes narrowed in deep thought. He tried to send his whispers beyond the boundaries of Purgatory, into the minds of mortals¡ª But they did not hear him. Velmora''s shifting form flickered unnaturally, her illusions breaking apart like glass. "This is no divine punishment," she murmured. "If it were the gods, they would never weaken themselves in the process." A slow, deliberate chuckle echoed through the chamber. The demons turned toward the throne. The Devil sat there, his posture as relaxed as ever, but there was something new in his expression¡ªsomething not even his most loyal subordinates had seen before. Amusement laced with the smallest sliver of uncertainty. "The game has changed," he murmured, tapping a single finger against the armrest of his throne. "And for the first time, we are not the ones making the moves." Balgrith bared his fangs. "Then who is?" The Devil''s smile remained, but it did not reach his eyes. "The Universe itself has spoken." Another tremor ran through the halls of Purgatory. Some lesser demons collapsed to their knees, grasping at their chests as the weight of their own powerlessness sank in. Their once-glorious dominion over the Lower Realm had been cut. And worst of all? The mortals would soon realize it. The Lower Realm For the first time in generations, the skies of the Lower Realm were clear. Not just free of divine storms or demonic omens¡ªfree in a way that mortals did not fully understand. The ever-present weight that had pressed upon them, the silent chains of fate that had dictated their lives, had vanished. In the ruins of a shattered kingdom, a woman knelt in the rubble of what had once been her home. Her child clung to her side, silent, their small hands trembling in her grasp. The air was different. She felt it in the way her breath came easier, in the way her thoughts were not clouded by the overwhelming presence of forces beyond her understanding. For years, she had prayed to the gods for salvation. For years, she had feared the demons that lurked in the shadows. And now? Neither answered. She exhaled shakily, staring up at the sky. She did not know if this was a blessing or a curse. But she knew one thing¡ª For the first time, the choices ahead were her own. Elsewhere, in the wreckage of a battlefield, warriors stood amid broken weapons and the corpses of their fallen. They had spent their lives fighting battles that had never truly been theirs¡ªbattles orchestrated by gods and demons alike. A young soldier, his face smeared with dirt and blood, ran a trembling hand through his hair. He turned to his captain, eyes wide. "...What happens now?" he asked, his voice raw. His captain did not answer immediately. The man, a veteran of countless wars, lifted his gaze to the horizon. He had spent decades fighting an enemy he could never defeat. But now¡­ The battlefield was still. The war, for the first time, had no master. A slow, exhale left his lips. "We decide," he murmured at last. The words were not shouted. They were not a grand declaration. But they carried weight. Across the Lower Realm, from the ruins of cities to the depths of forgotten forests, mortals felt the shift. They did not cry out in victory, nor did they celebrate blindly. They simply stood. And for the first time, they faced the future on their own terms. --- High above, beyond the reach of gods and demons, the Universe remained silent. It had acted. It had intervened. But this was not the end. Something had been set into motion. And soon, something new would rise to claim the void that had been left behind. For in a universe without masters, power would not remain unclaimed for long. Vol 0 Chapter 7: The Weight of the Universes Decree -----Chapter 7: The Weight of the Universe''s Decree----- The Universe''s Decree was absolute. It was not a negotiation, not a warning, but a force of nature that reshaped the very fabric of existence. Its consequences rippled across the Three Realms, shattering balance and leaving ruin in its wake. --- The Heavenly Garden, once a beacon of divine authority, stood in eerie silence. What had once been an eternal paradise now bore signs of decay. The golden rivers barely shimmered, and the celestial clouds that once radiated warmth now hung dull and heavy. At the heart of this fading domain, the Divine Sanctuary remained untouched, a grand, floating structure where only the Supreme 7 convened. Within its vast marble halls, six figures sat upon their ethereal thrones, their divine auras flickering ever so slightly¡ªa subtle but undeniable sign of their diminishing power. The absence of their relics¡ªtheir divine cores¡ªwas a wound they could all feel. The bond between them and the lower realm was severed. And it terrified them. "We cannot ignore this," Odin, the Allfather, broke the silence, his single eye burning with authority. "We have been stripped of our dominion. Our presence in the mortal realm has weakened to the point of irrelevance. If we do nothing, we will fade into myths." "Then we take back what is ours," Zeus, the King of Olympus, declared, arcs of weakened lightning crackling across his fingertips. "The Lower Realm was never meant to stand alone. Without us, they are directionless. If we do not move soon, something else will rise in our place." "You speak as if the Universe did not will this itself." Ra, the Sun God, leaned forward, his golden eyes filled with a quiet fire. "This was not an accident, nor an attack. This was a decree. Do you truly think we can defy it?" "We have ruled since the beginning," Olodumare, the God of Divine Order, responded sharply. "If we submit to this decree without resistance, we accept the end of our dominion. We are not children waiting to be scolded. We must reclaim our place." "But at what cost?" Brahma, the God of Creation, asked, his calm demeanor unchanged. "Will we, the gods, who once guided the realms with wisdom, become destroyers simply because we no longer stand above?" "Enough philosophy," Zeus interrupted. "The mortals cannot be allowed to grow beyond us. If we do not act, the balance will be lost." "What balance?" Buddha, the God of Wisdom, spoke for the first time, his voice soft yet cutting. "The balance where we reigned while they obeyed? We sit here speaking of dominion, but none of us have asked¡ªwhat if this is the path they were always meant to take?" A silence fell over the hall. Zeus scoffed. "Are you suggesting we simply accept this?" "No," Buddha replied. "I am suggesting that we move carefully. We are weakened, and if we descend in force, we will not be reclaiming power¡ªwe will be declaring war. That is not wisdom. That is desperation."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Odin exhaled. "Then we must proceed carefully. We will not destroy the lower realm, but we must reclaim what is ours." The gods had reached their conclusion. They would not rain destruction upon the mortals, but they would not sit idle either. They would move in silence, watching, waiting, reclaiming their authority where they could. Not as invaders, but as forgotten rulers slowly reclaiming their throne. And as their voices faded, the 7th god, who had remained silent throughout, remained unmoved by the situation, glaring at the fabric of reality itself. Unlike the cold deliberation of the gods, Purgatory was in utter disarray. What was once an unshakable kingdom of destruction now trembled at its core. Purgatory, the seat of devils and demons, had lost its most powerful force. The Devil himself¡ªthe eternal ruler of this realm¡ªwas sealed. And without him, the abyss had begun to unravel. Infernal flames burned weaker, dark rivers of suffering ran thin, and even the cursed skies that once bled crimson had dulled to a sickly gray. The demons, once bound by an unbreakable hierarchy, now fell into chaos. Within the Abyssal Throne, the great council of high-ranking demons gathered, their voices sharp with anger and uncertainty. "We should march upon the Lower Realm now!" Azgoth, the Butcher of Souls, roared, his monstrous form crackling with unstable energy. "With the gods weakened, it is the perfect time to strike!" "Fool," hissed Sylvaxis, the Whispering Serpent. "We are weaker as well. The loss of our connection to the lower realm has crippled us. If we rush in without a plan, we will be slaughtered." "Then what do you suggest?" growled Varzen, the Hellforged, his molten skin shifting with barely restrained fury. "Do we sit here and rot?" "No." A new voice spoke, calm but commanding. Xirath, the Demon Strategist, stepped forward, his deep red eyes filled with cold calculation. "We do not charge blindly. The gods will move cautiously, trying to reclaim their influence. If we are patient, we can act from the shadows." "A war of corruption," Varzen mused. Xirath nodded. "We plant doubt, turn mortals against each other. We do not fight a war we cannot win. We make them destroy themselves." The demons murmured in agreement. Like the gods, they too had reached a decision. They would not launch an all-out assault. They would wait, whisper, deceive. And when the moment was right, they would consume. Yet, while the higher realms schemed, the Lower Realm had already begun its transformation. Unlike the uncertainty of the gods and the desperation of demons, mortals embraced the unknown. Something new had awakened¡ªa force beyond the understanding of heaven or hell. It did not speak in prayers. It did not demand offerings. It whispered in the depths of their minds. It bled into their vision as flickering panels of light. [You have been chosen.] [Your will shall shape your power.] [Survive. Adapt. Destroy.] For some, it was salvation. A means to grow stronger. For others, it was a curse. An endless cycle of survival. In ruined cities, warriors trained under new laws of strength. In shattered kingdoms, rulers abandoned faith and turned to numbers, calculations, and raw ability. And in the shadows, a select few who had suffered the most, who had lost everything to gods and devils alike, whispered among themselves: "If the heavens abandoned us, we will burn them from the sky." "If the underworld seeks to consume us, we will devour them first." The lower realm was no longer a battlefield between gods and devils. It was something new. Something beyond their grasp. --- The gods prepared to reclaim their lost throne. The demons prepared to corrupt what remained. But neither knew that the world below no longer belonged to them. For the first time in existence, mortals did not look up for salvation. They looked forward, toward a future they would carve with their own hands. And in the silence beyond the realms, the Universe watched. And it did not interfere. The Dawn of Changes -----Chapter 8: The Dawn of Changes----- The universe did not grant second chances. It had made its decree, stripped the heavens and the abyss of their hold on the Lower Realm, and left them to struggle in the aftermath. But neither the gods nor the demons could accept this. They had ruled for eons. Their will had once been absolute. And so, they descended once more¡ªnot in glory, but in desperation. --- The once-majestic Heavenly Garden was a hollow echo of its past. The golden rivers ran thin, their divine luster dulling with each passing day. The grand palaces stood firm, yet their presence felt weaker, as if the realm itself was beginning to fade. The gods were unraveling. To reclaim their place, they sent their envoys to the Lower Realm¡ªpriests, prophets, warriors blessed with remnants of divine power. But what awaited them was not reverence. It was rejection. Far below, among the ruins of war, the gods'' first attempt unfolded. A priest of Ra descended upon a war-torn kingdom, his golden robes flowing as he raised his staff high. He called upon the people, promising blessings, protection, a return to the old ways. The crowd gathered, eyes hollow, listening¡ªbut not believing. "Where were your gods when the sky burned?" a voice finally broke the silence. A man stepped forward, covered in scars, his body hardened by war. "Where was your mercy when my family screamed for salvation?" The priest''s divine light flickered. He reached out, offering healing, a gift of faith. The man spat at his feet. Ra watched from above, his burning gaze fixated on the priest who stood motionless, trembling. In another land, storm clouds churned as the gods tried again. A celestial warrior, imbued with Zeus''s lightning, sought to bring a city under divine rule. He demonstrated power¡ªthunder crackled at his fingertips, storms swirled at his command. Yet, instead of awe, the mortals stood firm. A woman stepped forward, unfazed. "If power makes one a god, then I will become one myself." The warrior hesitated. He had seen it¡ªthe shift in their eyes. No longer did they look up in worship. They looked forward. They no longer needed gods. And the heavens, once untouchable, were now grasping at mortals who refused to be chained again. --- Unlike the gods, the demons did not offer salvation. They offered indulgence, power, the freedom to break limits.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The whispering shadows of Purgatory slithered through cities and villages, creeping into the minds of the lost. A merchant, once crushed under divine rule, was offered wealth beyond measure. A soldier, embittered by war, was promised strength to crush his enemies. Some listened. Some took what was given. But most? Most laughed. Deep in a forsaken battlefield, the demons'' failure mirrored that of the gods. A demon lord disguised as a wanderer approached a broken warrior, offering him infernal power. The warrior listened, entertained by the offer. Then he drew his sword. "If I take your power, I will owe you," the warrior said. "I refuse to owe anyone anything." The demons expected resistance. They did not expect defiance. Elsewhere, in the heart of a crumbling noble estate, another attempt was made. A fallen noble, once stripped of status, was approached by a demon in the form of a beautiful woman. "Join us, and you will never be powerless again," she purred. The noble smirked. "And become your pawn?" He leaned closer, his voice turning sharp. "I will build my own empire." The demon recoiled. This was not how it was supposed to be. Mortals, stripped of divine protection, should have been desperate, easy to manipulate. But instead, they were something else entirely. They were forging their own path. The gods failed to reclaim them. The demons failed to corrupt them. And the Lower Realm¡­ It no longer belonged to either. --- Three Months Later The air of change had settled. The once-heated battle for influence had faded into silence. Three months had passed. The world had changed. Faith had died, but something new had taken its place¡ªwill. Some sought power to protect what remained. Others pursued vengeance, retribution for a past they refused to let go. --- Beneath the ruins of a fallen kingdom, a lone warrior stirred. In the ruins of a kingdom that once stood proud, a lone soldier wandered. His armor was dented, his sword chipped, yet he refused to discard them. He knelt before a broken castle gate, fingers tracing the insignia of a kingdom that no longer existed. "I failed to protect you," he whispered. "But I will not fail again." From the rubble, he pulled forth an old war banner, tattered and torn. He wrapped it around his arm. His kingdom had fallen. But he had not. --- Far from the remnants of nobility, in a town ravaged by past tyranny, another soul carried her pain forward. A young woman stood before the ruins of a slave camp. Once, she had been nothing¡ªa mere servant in a noble''s house, stripped of freedom, then granted it, only to lose it all again. Now, her hands clenched a dagger, its edge reflecting the fire in her eyes. She was weak once. Powerless. Never again. She would take back what was stolen. And if the world stood in her way, she would carve her path through it. --- Meanwhile, in the icy wastelands where no gods dared tread, an old grudge festered. The first calamity had taken everything from him¡ªhis family, his home, the very meaning of his existence. He stood upon a frozen peak, staring down at the world below. His body trembled, not from the cold, but from the fire burning within. The gods did nothing. The demons sought only to use him. So he would create his own destruction. The world had abandoned him. Now, he would return the favor. --- And in a place once blessed by divinity, a forsaken saint discarded her faith for something greater. She had prayed until her voice cracked, begged until her knees bled, pleaded until her tears ran dry. No god answered. No divine light descended to save those she loved. She now stood at the ruins of a temple, her once-holy robes torn and stained. She did not curse the gods. She would simply show them what they had created. With cold determination, she stepped forward. She had faith once. Now, she had purpose. --- Beyond the remains of civilization, a weary traveler returned home¡ªonly to find nothing left. He had returned from war expecting peace. Expecting home. Instead, he found ashes. His village, his family, everything he had fought for¡ªit was gone. The gods had not saved them. His faith had been worthless. With trembling hands, he lifted his broken blade. He had no gods to serve. No demons to bargain with. But he still had himself. And that was enough. --- The gods watched in silence, their desperation turning to unease. The demons withdrew, their whispers fading into the void. For the first time in existence, the Lower Realm was no longer a battlefield between light and darkness. It was a realm of mortals. And mortals¡­ They no longer looked up for salvation. They looked ahead. Toward the future they would carve with their own hands. --- In a space far beyond the reaches of the universe, where even the fundamental laws of time twisted upon themselves in an endless paradox, a being watched. His omnipotent gaze stretched across the fabric of existence, witnessing the chaos unravel below¡ªgods scrambling to reclaim their lost divinity, demons lurking in the shadows, weaving deception, and mortals, once shackled by faith, now rising to forge their own fate. Worlds burned, destinies shifted, and the very balance of creation trembled under the weight of their defiance. Yet, through it all, he remained unmoved¡ªexpressionless, neither entertained nor disturbed by the unraveling of the grand order. Only when he finally turned away did the silence waver. His brow furrowed. And for the first time, something shifted in the void.