Chapter 4: The Rebirth of the Heralds
The divine sky was sick.
Once a boundless ocean of light, it now shimmered with cracks of red and black. The air of eternity carried the scent of burnt divinity — the lingering wounds of a war no god wanted to remember, and yet none could ever forget.
At the summit of Olympus Eternal, the surviving gods gathered once more.
They looked glorious still, but only in appearance. Underneath, they were broken.
Zeus sat upon his throne of thunder, one arm missing from the elbow down. The limb had never regrown — divine lightning sparked from the wound every few seconds, a reminder of Cain's last strike.
Ares' body was laced with jagged scars that never healed, his once-perfect muscles now carved with silver fissures.
Athena's right eye was gone, replaced by a faint glow of blue fire — the mark of Luna's dying curse.
Poseidon's body leaked droplets of seawater from open wounds that refused to close, each drop forming small puddles on the golden floor.
Even Hermes limped, his once-light step now uneven from the spear that Theo had thrown before dying.
They were gods. Yet they looked like survivors.
---
Zeus slammed his staff down. The echo rippled across the divine hall.
"Enough decay," he growled. "We have endured long enough. It is time we shed these dying husks."
Athena's voice was calm but sharp. "And what of the law, Father? We forbade soul transference since—"
"Since the war," Zeus interrupted. "A war they caused."
He gestured toward the far end of the hall — where eight vases stood on pedestals of obsidian crystal. Each vase glowed faintly, etched with sealing runes and divine locks. Inside them flickered eight dim lights, pulsing like faint heartbeats.
Cain and his Seven. The traitors. The monsters who had scarred heaven itself.
The gods gazed at those vases not with regret, but with pride. To them, they were trophies.
Ares laughed, voice deep and bitter. "You remember the way he screamed, don't you? The Knight of Dawn, kneeling before the very gods he defied." He pointed to one vase — the largest one, glowing crimson. "That's Cain. The mighty Herald of War, sealed in a jar like a toy."
Poseidon smirked. "A fitting fate for one who drowned half my realm."
Athena closed her remaining eye, trying to ignore their laughter, but even she couldn't deny the satisfaction of survival. "He and his seven brought this upon themselves."
Zeus leaned back, resting his head on his throne. "Let this be our lesson — none defy Olympus and live."
---
A soft hum filled the air.
From the side corridor walked Ren, the Administrator of Dimensions.
His robes shimmered with a faint blue glow, and his silver eyes reflected galaxies. Though he stood among gods, his aura was calm — too calm.
"Lord Zeus," he greeted with a bow. "You summoned me."
"Ah, Ren," Zeus said with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "We are preparing to begin the Rebirth Procedure. The mortal realm has ripened. The humans have evolved — surpassed their limits, thanks to our dimensional seeds."
Ren nodded slowly. "You mean… you're going to use them."
Ares grinned. "Indeed. Mortals who break past their limitations make perfect vessels. Their bodies are fresh — their spirits durable. We will wear them like armor."
Athena sighed. "The process will destroy their souls."
Zeus shrugged. "Collateral."
The gods laughed again, drunk on arrogance and the illusion of victory.
Ren's fingers twitched slightly at his side. Inside, a quiet rage flickered — but his face remained still.
"How curious," he said softly. "Even after all these centuries, you still mock the fallen."
Zeus looked at him sharply. "You pity them, Administrator?"
Ren smiled politely. "No. Just observing."
The gods continued to laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind that calm face.
---
Hours later, the Rebirth Chamber lit up with divine light.
Dozens of mortal disciples — men and women who had ascended past humanity — stood in circles of runes. Their eyes were blank, bodies trembling as the gods chanted ancient incantations.
Bolts of lightning, waves, and fire erupted as souls began to move.
Zeus' soul descended like a thunderstorm into the body of a tall man with golden hair. The man's mortal shell screamed, his flesh reshaping into godly perfection.
Ares roared as his new vessel's muscles bulged with divine might.
Athena's mortal vessel opened her eye, the blue fire within burning brighter than before.
One by one, the gods shed their old, scarred bodies — stepping into fresh ones reborn in mortal image.
When it was over, they looked beautiful again. Unbroken. Perfect.
And they smiled — proud of their cruelty.
Ren stood apart, watching silently. His hands clenched behind his back. The sound of human screams still echoed in his mind — their souls erased so gods could feel whole again.
Zeus turned to him. "Well, Administrator? How do we look?"
Ren bowed slightly. "Radiant, my lord."
The gods laughed and walked away, their laughter echoing down the marble corridors.
---
When the hall was empty, Ren stood alone.
He turned toward the far end of Olympus, where the eight vases waited in their silent chamber. The seals glowed faintly, humming with ancient power.
Ren walked closer. Each vase whispered faintly — distant voices crying through the centuries.
Brother…
Help us…
It's dark…
He placed his hand on the largest vase — the crimson one.
Inside, Cain's soul flickered weakly. The same brother who once fought the gods for freedom now slept in endless agony.
Ren's lips trembled.
"I should have saved you then," he whispered. "But I was a coward."
He glanced at the others — Luna, Theo, Finch, Iris, and the rest — each one sealed like glass ornaments. His expression hardened.
"No more."
He raised his hand. Blue circuits of divine code crawled up his arm, glowing through his veins. The air rippled as the entire vault trembled.
From his palm, a light emerged — the Administrator's Key, a forbidden sigil capable of rewriting dimensional threads.
Ren took a deep breath. "I'll pay the price."
The Key entered the first vase, and the runes shattered like glass.
Cain's voice screamed in silence, a burst of crimson light erupting from within.
Ren gasped as the power ripped through him — divine energy spilling from his mouth and eyes. His robes burned away at the edges, his blood glowing gold.
One vase broke. Then another.
Seven more followed.
Each explosion of light tore pieces of his soul apart, scattering fragments of his power into the void.
---
Ren fell to one knee, panting, his vision swimming with stars.
The chamber was a storm of light — swirling with billions of fragments of soul energy. The air vibrated like a thousand heartbeats all at once.
Then the vases began to sing.
Each voice — faint at first — grew louder.
"Ren…"
"Brother…"
"We're free…"
The lights that once imprisoned them now danced in the air, swirling into threads of color — crimson, azure, violet, silver — each forming a trail through the divine realm and into the void between worlds.
Ren raised his trembling hand, tears streaking down his golden-stained face.
"Go," he whispered, voice breaking. "Find new lives… new beginnings."
The chamber exploded with light as the souls shot into the rift, crossing dimensions in bursts of brilliance.
Ren watched them disappear into the endless horizon.
When the last one faded, he collapsed to the floor. His chest glowed faintly — half his essence gone.
He lay there for a long time, breathing raggedly, his once-bright energy flickering like a candle.
Then he smiled.
"Be free… my brother and sisters. May we meet again."
---
The gods never noticed.
They were too busy celebrating their new perfection — drinking celestial wine, mocking mortals, admiring their reflection in divine pools.
To them, Cain and his Seven were still trophies, still sealed in the vault — unaware that their prison was now empty glass.
Only Ren knew.
Days — or perhaps centuries — passed. Time meant nothing in the divine dimension.
Ren stood before an endless array of cosmic screens. Each one showed a world — some ancient, some newborn. Worlds of fire, of water, of ice and dream.
He scrolled through them slowly, watching civilizations rise and fall like waves.
His energy was weaker now. Every movement felt heavy. But he smiled through the exhaustion.
Finally, his hand froze.
A faint pulse.
A signature he hadn't felt in over a thousand years.
Ren zoomed in.
The screen expanded — showing a small blue planet orbiting an average star.
Clouds, oceans, cities — a world called Earth.
And there, among billions of souls, was one faint light.
A soul carrying the same resonance as the crimson light he once released.
His brother's soul.
Cain's soul.
Ren fell to his knees, laughter and tears mixing in his voice.
"I found you…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "After all this time…"
On the screen, the image zoomed closer — a young man walking along a crowded city street, yawning, looking completely ordinary.
Brown hair. Sleepy eyes. Backpack slung over his shoulder.
Unaware that he carried the power to destroy gods.
Ren pressed his hand to the glass. His tears fell like liquid starlight.
"Ethan…" he said softly. "You don't remember yet. But I do."
He laughed weakly. "A thousand years, and you're still late to everything."
The cosmic chamber fell silent. Only the hum of the screens remained.
Ren looked up at the stars — countless worlds shining in the void — and smiled through his tears.
"At last, a millennium has passed…"
He touched the screen again, whispering as if the boy could hear him.
"And we finally meet again, big brother."
The faint glow of the monitor flickered, and for a split second, a crimson spark pulsed from within the screen — Cain's soul responding faintly, like a heartbeat.
Ren froze. His breath hitched.
Then a voice — faint, ancient, warm — whispered through the static.
> "Ren… I'm home."
Ren closed his eyes. The tears came freely now.
"Welcome back."
The stars dimmed, and the chamber fell into silence.
---
To Be Continued…