The first thing Mael felt was warmth. Not divine fire, not cosmic rage — simple, human warmth. The kind that came from sunlight touching skin.
He opened his eyes to see a clear blue sky. Clouds drifted lazily across it, and the air smelled of rain and blooming trees. For the first time in eternity, the world felt alive.
He sat up slowly. He was lying in a field of white flowers. No blood. No ruins. No screams. Just silence — peaceful, ignorant silence.
Then came the voice.
> "Hey, are you all right?"
A young woman approached, carrying a basket of herbs. Her hair was silver, like Lirien's, but her eyes were gold — warm, unknowing.
Mael stared at her, unable to speak. She didn't seem to recognize him, yet her presence stirred something in him, a distant echo of the past.
"I found you here yesterday," she continued. "You were unconscious. No wounds, just… a mark that wouldn't fade."
She gestured to his chest.
Mael looked down — and froze.
The Crimson Mark was still there, faint but alive, pulsing softly beneath his skin.
He whispered, almost to himself, "It followed me."
The girl tilted her head. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly. "Where… is this place?"
"You're in the village of Velas," she said. "We don't get many travelers. The roads are broken after the northern storms."
Velas. A name he had never heard before — yet it felt too perfect, as if chosen by something watching from above.
Mael rose to his feet. His body felt lighter, but wrong — as if the universe had rebuilt him, missing a few pieces.
"Thank you for helping me," he said.
She smiled. "You're welcome. My name's Anera."
He hesitated. Then, after a long moment, said quietly, "Mael."
The name felt strange on his tongue — heavy with memories that didn't belong in this calm, simple world.
---
Days passed.
Mael stayed in Velas, helping Anera and the villagers rebuild what the "northern storms" had destroyed. The people spoke of divine wars and falling stars — yet none of them remembered the gods' names.
When he asked about temples or prayers, they only shook their heads. "There haven't been gods for centuries," they said. "Only stories."
That answer terrified him more than any divine threat.
He stood at the edge of the village that night, staring at the sky. The constellations were wrong — rearranged, rewritten. The world had restarted, yes, but something was missing.
The gods were gone.
Completely.
He whispered, "I erased them."
The wind responded with a whisper that wasn't wind at all.
> "No. You replaced them."
Mael turned sharply — but no one was there. Only the faint shimmer of the air, rippling like a reflection on water. The voice continued, calm and ancient.
> "The covenant broke, but creation needed balance. When chaos consumed divinity, something new had to take its place."
"Who are you?" Mael demanded.
> "You already know. You carry Me."
The Mark flared red, and for a heartbeat, he saw his reflection twist — his eyes burning, his veins glowing with runes.
Then the light vanished, leaving only silence.
---
Later that night, Anera found him sitting alone by the lake.
"You look haunted," she said softly. "Do you dream?"
He nodded slowly. "Every night. But I can't tell if they're memories… or warnings."
"Maybe both," she said, sitting beside him. "Dreams are what the world remembers when we forget."
Her words hit him like a blade. The simplicity of them — and the truth buried underneath.
The world had forgotten. But the world was beginning to dream again.
---
The water rippled.
A faint red light spread beneath the surface, like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
Anera gasped. "What is that?"
Mael's eyes widened. "The Mark…"
The reflection in the lake wasn't his. It was the face of the Remnant — faint, distorted, smiling.
> "You can't erase chaos," it whispered from the depths. "You only give it a new shape."
The sky darkened. The stars flickered like dying candles. The air grew heavy, trembling with something ancient trying to awaken again.
Mael clenched his fist. "Not this time."
The Crimson Mark ignited across his skin. The air shimmered, and the reflection shattered like glass — but in its place, a single drop of red light rose from the water and sank into Anera's chest.
She gasped, eyes wide, glowing faintly red.
Mael froze. "No…"
The voice of the Remnant echoed once more, laughing quietly.
> "If you destroy balance, the world will find another vessel."
Anera collapsed, the light within her pulsing.
Mael caught her in his arms, trembling. "I won't let it take you."
But even as he spoke, the Mark responded — binding the light between them, forming a connection neither divine nor human.
---
When dawn came, the lake was calm again.
Anera slept peacefully, unaware of what had changed.
Mael stood over her, eyes cold, knowing the truth.
The cycle had not ended. It had only shifted.
He whispered to the rising sun,
> "Then I'll break it from within."
And for the first time, the world of mortals trembled — not in fear, but in anticipation.