The Emperor stood firm, issuing orders to his subjects, his voice a steady command amidst the chaos. A chilling sense of dread clung to the air in the grand hall of the palace. Around him, his court was in turmoil.
Prince Cassius, the eldest son and his contingent were on a dire pursuit of the perpetrators. Their mission, albeit formidable, held a slight glimmer of hope. However, the situation involving Prince Aurelius, the younger prince, was rather more precarious. He was grappling with an imminent catastrophe - a collapsing building, and a brewing temporal rift that threatened to devour a city whole.
The odds against the princes were disheartening. The former, a near impossible task, the latter, an even graver probability. Despite the bleak circumstances, both princes, products of the Emperor's bloodline, were relentless, manifesting their indomitable spirits.
The Empress, however, faced the greatest challenge. Standing resolute, she mustered her willpower against the onslaught. Even to the untrained eye, it was evident that she was merely delaying the inevitable. Yet, there was no hint of despair in her steely gaze, only quiet determination.
the Intercontinental Photonic Decimator, or the ICPD as it was infamously known. The weapon of mass destruction sent forth an insurmountable storm of subatomic particles, traveling at or greater than the speed of light. The description of the ICPD might seem like a fantastic invention, yet the reality of its consequences was no less than a brutal nightmare.
If these particles were to strike someone, the sheer energy released would be enormous, resulting in an explosive impact. Depending on the intensity of the energy surge, the fallout could be disastrous, causing substantial damage to the surrounding environment and potentially disintegrating the target instantaneously.
These high-speed particles, aptly named "fallens," could cause the atoms and molecules of the target to destabilize, to shatter. The ensuing disintegration would be swift and calamitous, leading to the total annihilation of the person unfortunate enough to be in their path.
The fallens had a peculiar characteristic that added an additional layer of dread to their already daunting nature. Their interaction with the fabric of reality was abnormal. They had the potential to cause disruptions that could range from localized distortions and anomalies to more widespread disturbances affecting space, time, or even other dimensions.
These fallens, existing outside the regular laws of physics, had the power to turn reality into chaos. Miraculously, no single particle had yet managed to distort space enough to bypass the Empress's barrier. This, however, was small consolation in the face of the impending onslaught of the ICPD.
BOOM— BOOM—
The hall was inundated with two deafening roars that simultaneously filled the air, causing a shockwave that rippled through the surroundings.
The launch of the ICPD was generally proscribed by the Convention on Resolving Disputes in Armed Conflicts or CORDIAC, a planetary treaty established to regulate warfare. It was a respected document, its articles upholding peace and safety amongst the diverse species and realms across the universe.
However, the launch of not one, not two, but three ICPDs was an audacious disregard for CORDIAC. It was a blatant act of aggression that made a mockery of the treaty's values and principles. The audacity of the act wasn't lost on the witnesses, each hit by the waves of disbelief and outrage.
Aetheria, the land of the Emperor and Empress, was the unfortunate target of this flagrant assault. It was an unprecedented affront to their sovereignty, the dire consequences of which were yet to unfold.
Even the grand Thalassa Empire, famed for its might and influence, would face repercussions if they dared to commit such an atrocity. The shock of the situation weighed heavily upon every inhabitant of Aetheria, a grim testament to the potential horrors of unchecked power and brazen hostility.
There was a moment of stillness, a brief pause in the fabric of reality where it felt like the universe held its breath. The spectacle was eerily reminiscent of a dramatic scene from a suspenseful light novel, yet the danger was gravely real.
In the uncanny quiet, Aetherians watched as countless fallens, each a harbinger of destruction, came hurtling towards them. The Empress, a beacon of stoicism amidst the chaos, turned to her son with a gentle gaze. A soft, barely audible whisper escaped her lips.
"It was supposed to be your happy day!" Aurelius, as if privy to his mother's innermost thoughts, cried out. His words echoed in the eerie quiet, a stark contrast to the imminent doom that loomed over them. Transfixed in his position, he couldn't move, for if he let go, the temporal rift he was containing would wreak havoc on an entire city.
Time resumed its flow, but it moved sluggishly, each second drawn out and heavy with impending catastrophe. That's when Aurelius saw it - his mother, the Empress, was dispelling her shield.
Within the infinitesimal space between two photons, Aurelius hastily conjured another spell.
"Gaalenor raelir, naedrin'si thir."
The words slipped from her tongue, an invocation of a powerful, yet dangerous, magic.
In it is a well-established fact, the only thing capable of countering light was a black hole, locally known as 'raelir.' It was a magic that wasn't inherently perilous but required a conduit, an 'eye,' to channel its immense power. Given the dire circumstances, there was no time to procure a suitable eye for the raelir. In a display of sheer selflessness, the Empress appointed herself as the conduit
An onslaught of billions upon billions of fallens surged towards her, each a bolt of impending destruction.
Aetherians, with their extraordinary strength, could resist the pull of a raelir. However, the fallens were another matter entirely. A handful of these rebellious particles had the potency to annihilate even the most hardened of war veterans. As the designated eye of the raelir, the Empress would have to endure an inconceivable barrage of fallens, potentially in the trillions that would pass through her body repeatedly.
The implications were clear. This was akin to suicide. The dire nature of her choice mirrored in her eyes as she glanced hopelessly towards the Emperor. He was already in motion, dashing towards her with urgency etched across his face. The scene painted a tragic picture, a moment where love, duty, and sacrifice intersected in the face of insurmountable odds.
The moment Cassius felt the sinister resonance of the ICPD, he immediately abandoned his pursuit. However, by the time he made his way to the grand hall, the scene that unfolded before him was one of desperate defiance against the merciless onslaught of the fallens.
Aurelius stood, transfixed by the overwhelming magnificence of the spell he had invoked. Nearby, the Emperor, his features contorted with worry, was charging towards the Empress. The raelir, acting as a vast, invisible vortex, hungrily devoured the swarm of the fallens.
The Empress, acting as the conduit for such a formidable spell, was beginning to show signs of strain. Her physical form, a manifestation of her Aetherian energy, was beginning to flicker and fade, patches of light sporadically blinking into existence across her.
Aetherians are beings of pure energy. In order to interact with lower realms, they have the ability to convert themselves into matter, a process that consumes a resource known as rucain. This transmutation allows them the unique ability to shape-shift.
However, the ICPD is a cruel weapon that not only disrupts the physical structure of an Aetherian's assumed form but also permanently damages their energy imprint. Destruction of this imprint is equivalent to death for an Aetherian, a fading away, a dispersion from existence. This phenomenon is known as HARAET.
For an Aetherian, who can live up to 300 to 400 years in an assumed form and eternally in their energy state, HARAET is a rarity. It is viewed as an act of extreme cruelty, punishable by inflicting HARAET in return.
And now, before the eyes of her loved ones and her subjects, for the Empress, the process of HARAET had tragically begun.
Witnessing this tragedy unfold, the emperor felt a deep, sinking despair. His beloved, the empress, was sacrificing herself in an act of selflessness to save their realm and its people. His heart pounded in his chest as if it was in rebellion against the scene unfolding before his eyes.
"NO!" he bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the grand hall. But he was too late. The damage had been done. The empress stood there, her body starting to disintegrate, flashes of light piercing through her form as the fallens tore apart her energy imprint.
She stood there, an embodiment of grace amidst the cataclysm. Her face, betraying none of the turmoil she must be feeling, remained composed as if etched in marble. Her eyes, radiant as ever, held a resolute determination that would have fooled any onlooker into thinking she was untouched by the haraet.
The Emperor, his heart heavy with helpless despair, yearned to reassure her, to promise her that everything would be okay. But the bitter truth was that it wouldn't be. His beloved wife was undergoing haraet, and there was absolutely nothing within his power to stop it.
In the face of her inexorable end, the Empress's voice resonated with a formidable resolve that defied her impending doom. "Stay strong," she commanded, the echo of her authority reverberating through the hall. Her tone was unchanged, as though she were still in her prime, untouched by the fallens. "A monarch never bows... Protect our sons."
Her gaze then shifted to Aurelius, her youngest, who was grappling with the temporal rift, caught in a battle of his own. Her eyes then found Cassius, who had just entered the grand hall and come to a halt, his face draining of color as he absorbed the horror that was unfolding before him. He looked at his mother, the empress he had always known to be resilient and indomitable, succumbing to the ruthless onslaught of the fallens. His heart ached at the sight.
"They are good brothers, what a shame I am not here," her voice faltered, her words trailing off into a whisper that hung heavy in the air.
As the Empress began to fade, the light patches on her body flickered with an intensified urgency, reflecting her struggle against her impending departure from existence. The hall was suffused in an eerie, fluctuating glow, casting ominous shadows that mirrored the catastrophe at hand.
"Mother!" Cassius's voice cut through the surreal silence, fraught with pain. He sprang forward, instinctively beginning to conjure a spell. But with a raise of her hand, the Empress stopped him. Even as she stood at the brink of her own end, she remained the commanding figure they all knew and loved.
"There's... no time... Save it... our people..." Her voice was barely a whisper now, each word punctuated with pain. But still carried the pride as the grand empress of Celestial Dominion of Thalassa who once hailed as Avalanche during days of war. Cassius felt a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He wanted to argue, to deny, but the truth was staring him in the face. His mother was right. He needed to do what need to be done, more than ever.
Cassius clenched his fists, his heart torn between the desperate desire to save his mother and the weight of responsibility that now fell upon his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he nodded, his gaze filled with determination and grief. "I won't let your sacrifice be in vain, Mother," he whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. As the Empress's form continued to fade, Cassius turned away, his mind already racing with plans and strategies to protect their people and honor his mother's final command.
And as the Empress's presence dissipated into ethereal light, the grand hall of the palace plunged into darkness, leaving behind a silent void that echoed with the weight of her sacrifice. The fate of Aetheria now rested upon the shoulders of her sons, Cassius and Aurelius. Nay the fate was already decided what is left is the ticking of doomsday clock.
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