Far beyond the mortal realms, past the edge of the known world, where even the light of the sun dared not reach, lay the Abyss. A place of endless darkness and swirling chaos, where the boundaries of time and space were warped, and reality itself seemed to fracture and dissolve. Here, in the heart of the Abyss, where no living creature could survive, ruled a god—Enma, the Lord of Shadows.
Enma had existed since the dawn of creation, a being born from the primordial chaos that predated even the oldest of Guardians. His form was as shifting and formless as the Abyss itself, a dark silhouette surrounded by a mass of swirling shadows, with eyes that burned like molten gold, piercing through the void. He was neither man nor beast, but something far more ancient and terrible. His power was limitless, able to reshape the very fabric of existence with a thought.
For eons, Enma had remained dormant, watching the rise and fall of empires from his throne of shadow. He cared little for the affairs of mortals or Guardians—until now. The recent events had stirred something deep within the Abyss. The death of the Guardians, the weakening of the natural balance, and the rise of the Empire all signaled a shift that even Enma could not ignore.
Nyx, the Shadow Phoenix, had been one of the last barriers between the mortal world and the Abyss. With Nyx slain by Hazama Seraphis, the final boundary was crumbling, and the Abyss was beginning to bleed into the world of men. It was as if a great door had been opened, and Enma could feel the pull of it, beckoning him to rise once more.
In the center of his dark throne room, the shadows parted, revealing a massive stone altar etched with ancient runes that pulsed with dark energy. On the altar, a massive shard of black crystal glowed faintly, the very essence of the Abyss contained within it. Enma's gaze fell upon the crystal, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the growing connection to the mortal world.
"The time draws near," Enma's voice rumbled through the chamber, deep and resonant, like the sound of a thousand whispers echoing in the dark. "The veil between realms weakens."
A figure stepped out from the shadows, cloaked in dark robes, his face obscured by a hood. This was Noctis, Enma's most loyal servant, an immortal being who had served the Abyssal God since time immemorial. Noctis knelt before his master, his head bowed in reverence.
"My lord," Noctis said, his voice low and reverent, "the Phoenix has fallen, and the balance of the world crumbles. Soon, the Abyss will consume all."
Enma did not respond immediately. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the crystal shard, his mind turning over the implications. Yes, the Phoenix had fallen, but there was still much to be done. The Empire had unleashed great destruction, but it was not yet enough to fully open the door between the Abyss and the mortal realm. The final step was approaching—the death of Aegis, the last true Guardian of balance.
"When the last Guardian falls," Enma said softly, his voice filled with ancient power, "the world will descend into chaos, and I will walk the earth once more."
Noctis raised his head slightly, his hood still covering his face. "And what of the siblings? The prophecy foretells their clash—one who wields the power of the past, and one who commands the present. Their battle will decide the fate of the world."
Enma's golden eyes flashed with interest. The prophecy had not escaped his notice. Alyssia, the one who had inherited the powers of Nyx and Gaia, and her brother, Hazama, the Empire's chosen champion—two pieces of a greater plan. The siblings were tied to the fate of the world, but ultimately, it would be their conflict that would break it.
"Their fate is sealed," Enma said, a dark smile forming on his lips. "They are but instruments of destruction, pawns in a much larger game. They will fight, and in their battle, the world will fall into ruin. It is inevitable."
Noctis nodded, accepting his master's words without question. "What must be done, my lord?"
"Go," Enma commanded, "and ensure that the final Guardian falls. The siblings will fulfill their role, and when they do, the Abyss will claim its rightful place in the world."
Without another word, Noctis bowed deeply and vanished into the shadows, leaving Enma alone in the dark throne room. The Abyssal God leaned back in his throne, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. The time for his return was close. Soon, the world of men would crumble beneath the weight of chaos, and the Abyss would reign supreme.
Darian stood at the edge of a ravine, the wind whipping through his hair as he scanned the horizon. The journey to find Alyssia had been long and treacherous, but he knew he was close. She was somewhere deep within the Elven Realm, seeking their counsel and aid. The prophecy weighed heavily on his mind—two siblings, one tied to the future, the other to the present. He had to find her before it was too late.
He clutched the ancient text in his hand, the words written in a language few could understand. It spoke of Aegis' power, the ability to manipulate time, and how only one with the wisdom of the past and the strength of the present could truly wield it. Alyssia had this power, but so did her brother, Hazama, albeit in a different form. Their paths were destined to collide, and the outcome of that clash would shape the world.
Darian had been following a faint trail, the remnants of Alyssia's presence leading him toward the Elven borders. He knew time was running out. Hazama had already slain Nyx, and the Empire's forces were growing stronger by the day. The Abyss was beginning to spread its influence, and soon, the world would be plunged into darkness unless Alyssia could stop it.
He mounted his horse and spurred it forward, determination burning in his chest. He would find Alyssia, warn her of the prophecy, and help her prepare for the inevitable battle. The fate of the world depended on it.
In the Imperial palace, Hazama Seraphis stood before the Emperor, his armor stained with the blood of his recent conquest. The Emperor watched him with cold satisfaction, his gaze lingering on the massive sword strapped to Hazama's back, a weapon forged from the very heart of the Abyss.
"You have done well," the Emperor said, his voice low and menacing. "With Nyx dead, the Guardians are nearly wiped out. Soon, the Abyss will be fully unleashed, and our reign will be unchallenged."
Hazama nodded, his expression stoic. The weight of his recent victory still hung over him—the death of Nyx had been brutal, the Phoenix's last moments a flash of fire and shadow. Yet, despite the glory of the Empire's victory, something gnawed at him, a small voice in the back of his mind that refused to be silenced.
Alyssia.
His sister's name echoed in his thoughts, a reminder of the bond they once shared. She had abandoned the Empire, turning traitor to stand against everything they had been raised to believe in. And now, she was his enemy.
"The final Guardian remains," Hazama said, his voice cold. "Aegis and Gaia must fall."
The Emperor smiled darkly. "And you will be the one to slay them, just as you killed Nyx."
Hazama turned away from the Emperor, his thoughts heavy. He would carry out his duty, as he always had. But he knew, deep down, that the real battle was yet to come. Soon, he would face Alyssia, and when that day came, only one of them would walk away.
The shadows of the Abyss crept closer, and the siblings' destinies grew ever more intertwined. As Enma stirred in the darkness, the world above braced for the storm that was to come.