CHAPTER SEVEN — The Day the Sky Broke
The morning fog lay heavy over the village, wrapping the thatched roofs in a veil of gray. Eyron stepped out of the house, heart steady, mind sharp. Today felt different—he knew. His past-life instincts buzzed faintly at the edges of his consciousness, a reminder that danger was always waiting for those who dared to live.
Inside, the siblings stirred. Arian, eldest and composed, moved to check the doors and windows, his movements precise, almost military. Sera shadowed him, hands clenched into fists, eyes scanning every corner. Lisha and Liam huddled together, whispering to each other, while Lily clung to the hem of Eyron's shirt, small and frightened.
Their father stepped into the doorway, shoulders squared but eyes dark with worry. "They're coming," he said softly, the words carrying the weight of a prophecy long feared.
Eyron nodded, expression calm. "I know why. And I know what must be done."
His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers trembling. "Eyron… you must protect the others. If it comes to it, your father and I will…" Her voice broke for the first time, unguarded.
"I understand," he said, steady. His Analyse skill hummed faintly, picking up patterns, probabilities, and the faint traces of the celestial energy already brushing the village. He had always been the quiet one, observant and calculating. It was why his father trusted him.
"Children," his father said, "stay behind us. We will not let them take you."
The sky split suddenly, the clouds tearing apart in a flash of gold that seemed to set the very mist on fire. A second streak followed, sharp, twisting, a spear of light descending directly toward the village.
"Father…" Eyron's voice was low, tense.
The ground trembled as two massive figures materialized from the light, wings stretching wider than the village itself, glowing with a divine radiance that made the air vibrate. The villagers froze, fear and awe paralyzing them.
Eyron's parents stepped in front of their children instinctively, ready to sacrifice themselves. The angels' light reflected off their armor-like wings, illuminating the terror on their faces. One of them raised a spear of radiant energy, the other extended a hand that seemed to bend reality itself.
"Your debt comes due, Ironblood lineage," the first angel intoned, voice like the echo of falling stone.
Eyron swallowed, steadying himself. He could see the panic in the eyes of Lisha and Liam, the tight grip of Sera's fists, the quivering fingers of Lily. His father's jaw clenched; his mother's lips pressed together, trying to be brave.
Eyron's pulse quickened—but not with fear. With calculation. Analyse flared in his mind, feeding him every possibility, every weakness, every probability of survival.
His father stepped forward, turning to the children. "Run. Take them. Protect them. We will… handle this."
Eyron's heart clenched. His parents were ready to die for him, for his siblings. They believed him too young, too fragile, too mortal to face what was coming.
But he wasn't fragile. He wasn't afraid.
He swallowed and stepped forward, and the world seemed to pause. His parents froze, eyes widening in shock.
"I will not let you take them," Eyron said, voice calm but sharp, cutting through the tremor of divine power in the air. "I can negotiate. I can—"
His father opened his mouth to protest, but Eyron ignored him. He stepped closer to the angels, the light reflecting off their armor and searing into his eyes.
"Do you truly understand what you are asking?" the first angel asked, voice deep and unyielding. "A mortal negotiating with the enforcers of divine law? Do you think you can bargain with eternity itself?"
Eyron's lips curved into a small, deadly smile. "I don't have a choice. But I do have a mind. And I will use it."
The second angel's gaze sharpened, scanning him like a predator sensing prey. "This child… bold. Foolish. Dangerous."
Eyron ignored the label. He looked back once at his parents, then at the siblings huddled behind them. Their wide eyes, their trust, their reliance on him—it lit a fire inside his chest.
"I will be the one to decide what happens to my family," he said, voice cold and unwavering. "If you want them, you will speak to me first."
A silence fell over the village. The mist, the trees, even the wind seemed to pause. The angels hovered, wings tense, energy humming like a storm about to break.
Eyron's Analyse skill flickered violently, sensing the incredible power before him, the danger overwhelming even his calculated mind. But a strange calm settled over him. He had faced chaos before. He had manipulated the unmanipulable. And he would do so again—because he had no choice.
His father's eyes met his, disbelief and awe mingling. His mother's hand gripped Lisha's shoulder tightly, a silent prayer on her lips. Arian stepped closer, fists ready, yet deferring completely to Eyron's command.
The angels spoke again, voices overlapping like thunder. "You have no authority here, mortal. Yet… you possess something unexpected."
Eyron's pulse throbbed in his temples, every sense on high alert. He raised his chin. "Then judge me by the outcome. But know this: if you take one step toward them, I will make you regret it."
And then the first angel extended a hand, the second raised a spear. The village trembled. Dust lifted from the rooftops. The younger children clung to each other, fear and hope intertwining in their cries.
Analyse flashed one final notification in his mind:
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: NEGOTIATION WITH DIVINE ENTITIES — LV.1]
Eyron's eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, stepping into the light.
And everything went white.
The village froze. The angels paused. The children screamed.
The angels did not pause because they feared the boy rather it's because they were amused by him and asked themselves
"What deal could a mortal possibly strike with beings of heaven itself?"