The six elders of the Rikoru gathered in a shadowed room, their faces hidden in darkness, their powerful presence filling the air. Their voices echoed through the vast chamber, as they discussed the destruction caused by the recent intruders.
"This is the second time someone has dared to attack our sacred land," one elder said, his tone cold and stern.
"The damage they caused cannot be ignored," added another. "We need to ensure something like this never happens again."
They all fell silent, contemplating the gravity of the situation.
"We cannot be everywhere at once," said a third elder. "It's time to establish a new order—one that will command respect across every sector."
The room hummed with tension as the elders exchanged glances, their decision inevitable. "We will appoint rulers over each continent—individuals who will govern in our absence," another elder declared.
"They will be gods, and the world will bow before them," a voice boomed, the finality of the statement settling heavily in the air.
Unspoken was the memory of the first intruder who dared to challenge them—the god of lightning and thunder. The elders did not speak his name, but the weight of his past actions lingered in their minds as they prepared to announce their new rulers to the world.
Meanwhile, far from the shadows of the Rikoru's domain, Aoiro and Kurata lay unconscious, washed ashore on a distant island. Their bodies were bruised, bleeding, and barely clinging to life. The waves lapped gently at their feet, while the island's inhabitants, noticing the strangers, rushed to their aid, carrying them to safety.
The brothers' fate hung in the balance as the world shifted under the new rule of Gods.