POV: Seraphielle, Goddess of Judgment
Something stirred.
Not sight.
Not sound.
A distortion.
Seraphielle paused mid-thought, her wings of light shuddering as something unfamiliar brushed against her awareness.
That aura—
There.
She narrowed her gaze across the planes.
Nothing.
No image.
No form.
Only the sensation.
Raw. Devouring. Wrong.
"Hide all you want," she whispered, voice echoing through a realm of gold and ash. "I can feel you."
The goddess extended her perception further—yet every attempt slid away, repelled by a veil not of her making.
A shield.
Ancient.
Intentional.
Her lips curled in fury.
"So you've chosen a host," Seraphielle hissed. "How… predictable."
She could not see the girl.
Could not touch her.
Could not smite her.
Not yet.
But there were other ways.
Her gaze drifted downward—toward the mortal realm, toward the forming cracks in reality.
Dungeons.
Gates.
Red ones.
A slow, cruel smile spread across her face . " I'm sorry, but your punishment must continue, and for it to continue, you must die first.."
"You will enter them , I will test your strength first in a red dungeon," she murmured softly.
"I will make sure the monsters know your name , And I will make sure you don't leave that black dungeon alive . "
She raised a hand, light warping into something darker.
"Die before you grow," Seraphielle whispered.
"Or keep suffer until you beg for forgiveness ."