The moment the voice reached Kael's mind, the world around him fractured.
Reality itself rippled—like glass under pressure—distorting the war chamber, the murmuring generals, and even the Empress and Selene. Sound died. Color drained. Time stuttered.
And then, everything vanished.
Kael stood alone in a void beyond existence.
It was a place where creation had never taken root. Light and shadow danced without form, bleeding into one another like memories half-remembered. The stars had no place here. The laws of existence held no meaning.
Here, he met it.
Vael'Tor.
No form. No face. Just presence. Just being.
It hovered, impossible to define—an entity of formless purpose, a shadow so deep it devoured even divine essence. It had not arrived, because it had always been here.
"You are not like the others," the voice intoned, not heard but imprinted directly into Kael's mind.
Kael remained still, eyes narrowed. The weight of this realm pressed against his thoughts like an ocean atop a single flame. And yet, the flame did not flicker.
He had faced gods. Demons. Ancient minds that had ruled before empires had risen. But this... this was something older.
Something forgotten even by the concept of forgetting.
Yet Kael did not bow. He did not kneel.
"And you," Kael said, voice calm and razor-sharp, "are less than the stories."
A moment of silence. The void rippled. Not in anger—but in acknowledgment.
Arrogance? No.
Test.
The shadows surged. Around him, the void twisted into shape. Visions formed—universes imploding, divine cities in ruin, Abyssal queens torn apart by unseen forces. Gods kneeling in despair as all that they built was consumed by something worse.
A glimpse into endings not yet born.
"You do not understand the depths you seek to rule," Vael'Tor whispered. "Your empire is a speck in the weave of eternity. You are but a breath in a storm older than stars."
Kael stepped forward.
"And still," he said, voice unwavering, "you came to me."
The presence paused.
"You fear irrelevance," Kael continued, eyes glinting. "You sense a shifting tide—me. That's why you speak, rather than devour."
The pressure lessened.
"You are a fracture," Vael'Tor mused. "Something not meant to exist... yet refuses to be erased. A contradiction that grows."
Kael smirked.
"Then we have that in common."
In the mortal realm...
The grand war chamber of the Imperial Palace sat in oppressive silence.
Kael's body remained seated at the head of the obsidian table, eyes open yet unfocused. He hadn't blinked in minutes.
Selene shifted uncomfortably. Her expression betrayed concern—one she hadn't felt in years.
"He's not here," she whispered.
The Empress stood beside Kael, arms crossed. Her silver hair cascaded over crimson robes embroidered with imperial runes. Her face remained calm, but her eyes flicked with anticipation.
"Do not interfere," she said coldly.
Selene turned to her. "He's facing something none of us can see—"
"He knew it would come," the Empress interrupted, her tone sharp. "And he still didn't hesitate."
The generals present dared not speak.
For all their power, all their victories—they understood this was not a battle of swords or armies. It was one fought in the minds of gods and monsters. And Kael had walked in, uninvited, willingly.
One tapped his gauntlet nervously. "What if... he doesn't return?"
The Empress answered without turning. "Then the gods may celebrate a temporary victory."
"But the world will burn anyway."
In the void...
Vael'Tor drifted closer, yet never moved.
"You seek dominion over mortals. Over gods. And yet... you speak to me as if you are their equal."
"I do not seek equality," Kael replied. "Only understanding. Power follows."
A pause.
"You would weaponize even me?"
"I would understand you. And anything I understand—I can break."
The void cracked.
Not physically, but symbolically. A fracture of concept, of inevitability. And then—
Laughter.
Not from Kael. Not from Vael'Tor.
But something... deeper.
An echo of chaos. The concept of amusement, filtered through aeons.
"You remind me of something I once destroyed," Vael'Tor said softly. "But it begged. You do not."
Kael's expression remained unchanged.
"I don't beg," he said. "I offer terms."
"You would bargain with me?"
"I would command," Kael corrected.
The void fell silent.
And then—pressure collapsed. A test had ended. Kael had passed.
"You are not a god," Vael'Tor whispered. "But you may become something worse."
Back in the war chamber...
Kael's fingers twitched.
Then tapped the table once.
The tension in the room shattered.
Gasps rippled. Selene exhaled sharply. The Empress narrowed her eyes but did not smile.
Kael finally blinked.
And then spoke.
"Vael'Tor will not remain an enemy for long."
The room went still.
Kael's gaze swept over them. "The gods made a mistake. They reached beyond their power—and gave me something greater than they understand."
Selene stared. "What... did it say?"
Kael didn't answer. He stood, movements fluid, precise.
"I need every record of pre-divine history," he said. "Every sealed myth, every celestial banishment, every trace of Vael'Tor's origin. He is not a tool yet. But he will be."
One general hesitated. "And if he turns against us?"
Kael's smile was faint.
"Then I'll teach him what fear truly is."
Far above...
In the Celestial Council, panic reigned.
The Archons had gathered, luminous wings spread wide, divine armor glowing with fraying purpose. The once-immortal halls of the gods now rang with uncertainty.
"He survived contact," one Archon whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it untrue.
"He spoke back," another breathed.
Eryndor the Shadow Serpent stood at the edge of the council. He said nothing.
They had unsealed a forbidden force. And Kael had done the unthinkable.
He had not resisted it.
He had conversed with it.
In the Abyss...
The Queen of the Abyss laughed.
Her laughter echoed across realms, shaking the thrones of lesser demons. Her shadow-black gown flowed like spilled ink, her eyes glowing with pride and madness.
"Oh, my son," she whispered, licking her lips. "You're seducing forces older than reality now?"
She rose from her throne, the Abyss itself quaking beneath her steps.
"Then I suppose it's time I reminded the heavens just whose blood runs through your veins."
And somewhere between all realms...
Vael'Tor stirred.
It had returned from the mind of the one called Kael.
And it was intrigued.
More than that—tempted.
There was something different in that mortal's defiance. Not arrogance. Not madness.
Will.
And in the vastness of existence, will was rarer than power.
Vael'Tor whispered into the void.
"Let us see where your ambition leads, Kael."
"And if you can still walk... when the stars themselves bow."
To be continued...