The Divine system:my journey to celestial Godhood
The scene opens with a bloodied battlefield, littered with the lifeless bodies of demons and angels alike, both fallen and holy. The stench of death hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid smoke of the scorched earth. The landscape is a wasteland, a testament to the brutality of the battle that had just unfolded.Not far from the carnage, hidden within the shadows of a cave, lay three figures. Two were gravely wounded, their bodies barely clinging to life. One was the archangel Michael, whose once radiant armor was now stained with blood, his wings torn and battered. The other was the fallen archangel Lucifer, his wings scorched and tattered, his face twisted in agony as he fought to stay conscious.
The third figure, In stark contrast to the injured angels, stood tall and composed. His presence was almost ethereal, though his features were hidden in shadow, making him an enigmatic figure in the midst of the ruin. He gazed down at Lucifer, a look of sympathy in his eyes.
“I’m sorry that you had to suffer this fate,” he murmured, his voice laced with regret.
His eyes shifted to both archangels, and he sighed deeply. “I’ll make it right.”
A brief pause followed, the words after “I’ll make it right” lost in a quiet murmur, as if the figure’s voice faltered, or the meaning was veiled in secrecy. The only words that were clear came at the end, filled with finality and determination.
“Take this new life and…” Another break in his words, this time leaving a lingering silence.
Suddenly, the scene faded, shifting from the cave of despair to a small, dimly lit room. A young man lay in bed, his body drenched in sweat, breathing heavily as though he had just run a marathon. His eyes flickered open, a look of panic written across his face. He bolted upright, the nightmare still fresh in his mind.
“Shit, that same dream… when will it stop?” Lucian Cross muttered, rubbing his eyes as if to rid himself of the lingering remnants of the vision.
Glancing at the alarm clock beside him, he saw the time—almost 7:30 AM. He groaned, realizing he was running late. With a sigh, he threw off the covers and reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. It was the last day of school, and though he had hoped for it to be a day of relief, it held no joy. It was the day of the awakening ceremony, a day that would determine his future and his job class, though Lucian’s expectations were low.
School, in his mind, was nothing but a hellish place. A place where he was used and trampled on, his life a series of miserable days. But today—today was supposed to be different. It was his last day, and maybe, just maybe, the ceremony would bring something good. He didn’t dare dream too big, but a small hope flickered inside him. The vice principal called out, “Lucian Cross, come on stage.”
Lucian gulped as the whispers of mocking and ridicule from his classmates and juniors filled the air. He could hear their gossip:
“Why is he even here?”
“Bet he’ll awaken nothing.”
“He’s just wasting our time.”
Tightening his fist, Lucian forced himself forward, his footsteps heavy with anxiety. Reaching the podium, he glanced at the imposing white crystal, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow.
“Place your hand on the crystal,” the vice principal instructed.
Lucian hesitated briefly before resting his hand against the cool surface of the crystal. The room fell silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air.
Suddenly, the crystal erupted in a dazzling platinum light so bright it was blinding. Gasps echoed through the hall as a celestial-class phenomenon unfolded. The sound of heavenly trumpets filled the room, shaking the very ground beneath them. The heavens themselves seemed to part, and a radiant Roman cross-like gate opened in the sky above.
From the portal descended two armies of celestial beings, one side composed of graceful angels, the other of fallen angels.
The fallen angels were an intimidating sight. Dark knights clad ...
