A rift tore through reality.
From the depths of the Abyss, Ryojin Kurohane emerged. To him he had only spent hours in the Abyss but to the outside world years had passed, and this realization kicked in.
Ryojin dismissed the epiphany with a detached wave of his hand. The truth, once a burning fire that fueled his soul, had lost its significance. His heart, once a maelstrom of emotions, had withered into a desolate landscape of indifference. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing, that is, except for one, all-consuming obsession: the downfall of the Celestial Order.
The world he once knew greeted him with an eerie stillness. He stood on the edge of a ruined battlefield, the remnants of a war long since ended. The sky above was dark with storm clouds, but no rain fell. The wind was silent.
And yet, something was different.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the abyssal energy coursing through him. The black runes carved into his flesh pulsed faintly, remnants of the pact he had made. His katana, now reforged by the void itself, shimmered with an unsettling aura.
He had not simply escaped the Abyss.
He had become it.
But the moment his boots touched solid ground, a presence stirred in the distance.
They knew.
The gods, the Celestial Order-they had cast him into the Abyss, expecting him to vanish into nothingness. But now that he had returned, they would come for him.
And yet, he felt no fear.
His body was different, his mind sharper. He was no longer bound by the constraints of mortals or the limitations of his past self. The hunger of the Abyss lingered in his soul, but he had mastered it.
The whispers still called to him, but this time, they did not command.
They awaited his command.
Ryojin exhaled, watching the air distort around him. His very presence warped reality, the ground beneath his feet darkening, cracking.
Then, he sensed them.
A ripple in space.
A golden light flickered in the distance. Divine energy.
They had arrived.
With a calm expression, Ryojin turned toward the approaching figures, his fingers lightly brushing the hilt of his blade.
The first battle of his new existence was about to begin.
And for the first time in a long, long time-
He was looking forward to it.
The golden light intensified.
Ryojin stood motionless as celestial figures descended from the sky. Their armor gleamed like the sun, their wings stretched wide, radiating divine energy. They were not mere soldiers. These were Judicators—the executioners of the Celestial Order.
At their center stood a warrior clad in silver and white, a flowing cape draped over his immaculate armor. His presence alone warped the air with divine pressure.
Ryojin recognized him immediately.
Darius Vael- The man who betrayed the abyssal clan in order to be granted divine power
He was now one of the Celestial Order's greatest champions. A man who had once fought beside Ryojin, who had once called him brother.
But there was no familiarity in Darius's golden eyes now. Only judgment.
"Ryojin Kurohane," Darius spoke, his voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "You should not exist."
Ryojin tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yet, here I am."
The air between them was tense, crackling with energy. The Judicators drew their weapons—swords forged from divine light, spears humming with celestial energy. The very ground beneath them trembled, unable to withstand the presence of such immense power.
Ryojin remained still, his abyssal energy coiling lazily around him. The whispers stirred in his mind, eager, hungry.
Darius took a step forward, the light around him intensifying. "The gods decreed your fate. You were cast into the Abyss to be undone. And yet, you returned. This is an affront to the order of the world."
Ryojin let out a low chuckle. "Is that what they told you? That I was meant to fade?" His eyes glowed with eerie violet light. "Then perhaps the gods aren't as wise as they pretend to be."
Darius's expression darkened. "You have been corrupted."
Ryojin's smirk faded.
"Corrupted?" His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it. A quiet storm. A depth that had not been there before.
He raised his right hand. Black tendrils of abyssal energy flickered around his fingers, shifting and pulsing like living shadows.
"I have not been corrupted, Darius." His gaze locked onto the celestial warrior. "I have been reborn."
Darius's grip tightened around his sword. "Then you leave me no choice."
In an instant, he moved.
A blur of silver and light. His blade arced toward Ryojin's neck, the sheer force of the strike splitting the air apart.
But Ryojin did not flinch.
The moment the divine blade touched his skin—it stopped.
Not because he blocked it.
Not because he dodged.
But because the Abyss itself refused to be cut.
The runes on his body flared. The very concept of the attack unraveled, devoured by the void.
Darius's eyes widened.
Ryojin lifted his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're not ready for this fight."
And then, with a single pulse of his energy—
Reality shattered.
The sky cracked like glass. The ground split open beneath them. The divine warriors staggered as the very fabric of the world twisted under Ryojin's power.
Darius leapt back, his expression unreadable.
Ryojin exhaled, lowering his hand. He had not even drawn his sword.
"The next time we meet, Darius," he said, his voice carrying through the chaos, "I suggest you bring a god with you."
And with that, the shadows swallowed him.
Ryojin Kurohane had returned.
And the world would never be the same.