The air smelled of incense and divine judgment.
Kael Draven knelt before a grand tribunal, his arms shackled in celestial chains, the weight of ten thousand divine sigils crushing his once-mighty form. The golden hall of the Divine Order loomed above him, its radiant light mocking the darkness that once answered his call.
Before him, seated upon a throne of radiance, was the Supreme Deity of Light—Seraphis, the so-called ruler of the heavens. His voice echoed through the divine court, a verdict that had already been decided.
"Kael Draven, Abyssal Warlord, for your crimes against the heavens—genocide, defilement of divine law, and waging war against the gods—you are hereby sentenced to absolute erasure. May your name be forgotten, your soul unmade."
Kael did not struggle. His body was broken, his strength stripped away by betrayal.
His own generals, his trusted companions, stood among the gods, their faces cold and unreadable. Darian the Blademaster. Elyria the Shadow Witch. Varian the Iron Fist. Those he had once raised to greatness now stood as his executioners.
The weight of their betrayal crushed him more than any divine punishment.
"No words, Abyssal Tyrant?" Seraphis's golden eyes gleamed. "Even now, you kneel before me, powerless."
Kael's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Powerless?" His voice, though weak, still held venom. "You needed all this—the might of heaven, the betrayal of my own, to bring me down. If I had another chance…"
His fingers twitched against the cold stone floor. "I would burn the heavens themselves."
BOOM!
Divine light rained down.
Pain unlike anything Kael had ever felt surged through him. His soul ignited, tearing apart at the seams. He let out a silent scream as his very existence was erased—his name, his legend, his everything consumed by the divine decree.
In his final moments, as his soul drifted into nothingness, a voice—ancient, dark, and powerful—whispered through the void.
"You are not meant to die yet, child of darkness."
---
The Abyss Calls
Kael's awareness flickered back.
He was no longer in the divine court. Instead, he drifted through an endless abyss—a chasm of black fire and shifting shadows.
A vast presence loomed above him, greater than any god he had ever known.
It was not light. Not darkness. It was something beyond.
"You were cast aside, discarded as a pawn unworthy of the game." The voice echoed through the void. "But I see your worth, Abyssal Warlord. I offer you a deal."
A burning sigil appeared before him—an ancient mark, pulsing with raw, forbidden power.
"Serve me. Take my power. Return… and conquer."
Kael's body, once erased, began to reform.
His strength. His will. His hatred.
They surged within him, answering the call.
A cold smirk crossed his lips.
"Fine," he whispered. "I accept."
---
Rebirth
Pain.
Then, breath.
Kael's eyes snapped open. He gasped, his chest rising and falling as though awakening from death itself.
He was lying in a dark room, his body smaller, weaker… but familiar.
Memories flooded in.
He had returned.
This was 500 years in the past—before his rise as the Abyssal Warlord, before the gods destroyed his kingdom, before the betrayal.
And this time…
He knew exactly what was coming.
Ding!
A mechanical voice rang in his mind.
[Welcome, Abyssal Tyrant.]
[The Path of Domination Begins.]
Kael's lips curled into a slow, dark grin.
"This time… I will burn the heavens first."
---