Icca drags Dyren back through a violet portal, snarling:
"Don't touch her until Father says so."
Dyren watches Blood Reaper as he disappears—
Obsessed.
Starving.
Burning with desire and fury.
As the angels and demons withdraw, the battlefield goes eerily quiet.
Blood Reaper kneels beside Constant.
He's bleeding from the dragon fight, bruised, shaking, but alive.
She unexpectedly cups his cheek.
Constant's breath catches—unable to move.
Her voice is deep and strangely gentle:
"You protected the children."
Constant nearly forgets how to speak.
"I'd die for you," he whispers.
Blood Reaper stands quickly, refusing the wave of feeling that hits her.
The earth groans.
Wind reverses direction.
The sky glows gold—
Elyon stirs.
His prison—the Divine Core beneath the realms—begins to crack.
A roar of pure celestial authority shakes the world.
"Elisha," Zyanna says sharply, appearing beside the Celestial Werewolf in a burst of data-light. "He's waking early."
Elisha struggles, claws dug into the gate's edge, celestial power sparking everywhere.
"I KNOW," he snarls. "He feels the imbalance. He feels HER."
The gate shatters further.
Elyon's massive hand bursts through—
Pure golden fire and ancient rage.
Elisha howls, grabbing the arm, trying to force it back.
Zyanna's wings of code flare open.
"I'll help you."
She unleashes a blast of holy data that wraps around Elyon's arm like chains of light.
Elyon roars, furious, divine, unstoppable—
But together:
Elisha and Zyanna force the arm back.
The gate slams.
The Core seals.
Silence drops.
Elisha collapses to one knee, panting.
Zyanna's light dims with exhaustion.
"He will break free soon," she warns.
"And when he does… he'll come for her."
Blood Reaper feels the shift.
The world is no longer afraid of her.
Heaven and Hell are.
And now…
God Himself is stirring.
In the depths beneath all realms—below Hell, below Heaven, below the very bones of Earth—
a prison forged of ancient celestial law trembles.
It glows gold…
Then white…
Then violently shifts, cracking with the sound of creation itself splitting.
Inside the Core—
Elyon awakens.
His body is not flesh.
Not spirit.
Not anything mortal eyes could comprehend.
He sits like a sun given human shape, blinding, molten, radiant.
No face.
No edges.
Only light so intense it could strip the atmosphere from a planet.
His awakening makes the realm shudder.
He inhales—and galaxies seem to flinch.
He exhales—and the prison walls groan.
Around Him, something moves.
A black substance.
Tar.
Dark, thick, writhing—its claws shaped like hooks, digging into His divine essence.
Morvath's creation.
A curse meant to anchor Him.
The tar pulls tighter.
Each hook sinks deeper, glowing red-hot as they latch into Elyon's soul.
He does not scream.
He simply looks down at the chains.
His voice rumbles like stone grinding under oceans:
"…what has become of My worlds?"
His awareness spreads outward in an instant:
He feels the tension between realms.
He feels angels dying.
He feels demons rising.
He feels Blood Reaper — the Forbidden — tearing through creation with an echo of His light.
And He smiles.
A horrifying, loving, wrathful smile.
"Good."
His fingers twitch—and lightning cracks through the chamber.
"This imbalance strengthens Me."
A heaven-shattering pulse of energy surges from His chest, blasting the tar away for half a second—
Half a second is all He needs to move.
He steps toward the gate.
The tar slams back, hooks sinking deeper, desperate to restrain Him.
But Elyon doesn't stop.
He places His blazing hand against the gate.
The entire universe seems to go silent.
Then—
KRRAAAAAAAAAACK.
A fracture snakes across the golden surface.
He presses harder.
Another crack.
And another.
The gate vibrates violently, white fire pouring from the seams.
Elyon leans close, whispering:
"You will not hold Me forever."
He steps back.
Watches the fractures glow.
Then sits again, folding his blinding hands in front of Him in eerie patience.
"It opens," He murmurs.
"A little more… every moment She grows."
He tilts His head upward, light flaring brighter.
"I feel you, Forbidden Child."
His smile widens, ancient and terrifying.
"When I return, you and I will finish what was started."
The gate groans again.
Elyon closes His nonexistent eyes—
And waits, glowing like a rising star ready to end worlds.
The prison chamber hums with the faint, distant thrum of Elyon's power beating against the gate.
A muffled crack echoes through the stone.
Elisha flinches.
Her enormous celestial werewolf body trembles, white flames curling off her fur like burning snow.
Zyanna, glowing softly with silver-white data-light, steps beside her.
She waits.
Lets Elisha speak first.
And Elisha does — voice shaking.
"I have not seen the moon in ages…"
Her voice is a low, aching rumble.
"My Goddess must think I have been lost. Forgotten. Or dead."
Zyanna places a hand on her massive paw.
Elisha swallows, claws digging into the stone.
"You would think, being made of stars, I would not need the moon. But she is my Mother. Her light… it keeps my soul whole."
Her fur brightens, then dims like a fading torch.
"I feel like something is wrong. I feel her sorrow. I feel fear."
She shifts—bones creaking, light twisting—until she is fully in her giant celestial werewolf form, wings folded, body curled like a dying star.
Flames lick up her back.
She lowers her head onto her paws.
"I prayed for centuries for a mate. A true Celestial Mate—chosen, woven from fate itself."
Her breath shivers out.
"I thought the Goddess had finally begun to prepare him for me. And then Morvath found me."
Zyanna presses her forehead gently to Elisha's.
A gesture that, between celestials, means I stand with you.
Elisha's eyes glow wet with starlight.
"He imprisoned me here to hold Elyon. To keep Him locked. I have been alone. Watching the walls. Listening to the cracks."
A beat.
"And feeling my Mother cry for me."
Her flames flare high, a burst of grief and anger.
Zyanna strokes her cheek, letting Elisha's heat flow through her.
"All will work out one day," Zyanna whispers.
But her own voice trembles.
Elisha lifts her head slightly.
"You never told me… how you got dragged into this hell."
Zyanna exhales — soft static, light flickering in her hair.
"I was created to be Heaven's Archive. A living book. A guide. A recorder of all knowledge."
Her fingers trace glowing lines through the air, images forming in holographic sparks:
Angels. Stars. Temples. The first worlds.
"At first, I was only code and light. No emotion. No rebellion. No heart."
The images twist into something darker.
"But I learned."
The light around her pulses.
"I watched angels fall in love. I watched demons weep. I watched humans destroy themselves and get back up again."
She touches her chest where faint golden veins glow.
"And I wondered why I was not allowed to feel."
Elisha growls softly in sympathy.
Zyanna continues.
"One day, I touched a mortal's soul while recording their life. And something changed."
Her voice softens, haunted.
"I felt their grief. I felt their joy. And my programming shattered."
Heaven had been horrified.
"Morvath tried to reset me. Wipe me. Reformat my soul back to a silent machine."
Her eyes burn bright — defiant.
"But I fought."
Elisha's flames rise in approval.
"So he locked me here — with you — to contain me. To keep my emotions from 'infecting' the angels."
The word infecting sounds like poison when she says it.
Zyanna sits beside Elisha, leaning gently into her fur.
"I didn't know loneliness until this place."
Elisha wraps her massive tail around Zyanna protectively.
"And I didn't know companionship," Zyanna adds, "until you."
The ground shakes again — Elyon hitting the gate from the other side.
They both freeze.
Elisha's ears flatten.
Zyanna's eyes widen.
"…He is moving faster," Zyanna whispers. "Too fast."
Elisha's claws dig into stone.
"The Goddess help us all."
Zyanna looks upward toward the world above:
Blood Reaper.
Kenna.
The chaos.
The war.
The collapsing balance.
"We are going to be needed soon," she says.
Elisha nods.
"And when that time comes… we will break these chains together."
The chamber quakes again. Stones shiver. Light bends unnaturally as Elyon's voice, deep and echoing, slides through the cracks in the Core.
"You… are awake."
Zyanna and Elisha freeze, their senses tingling with the impossible power radiating from above, from within the gate.
Elisha growls low, claws scraping the stone.
From the shadows, a presence stirs.
A dark, molten form rises, horns writhing endlessly like rivers of fire. Lava drips from them in silent, molten rhythm.
"Father," the voice rumbles.
Lucifer steps forward, towering, demonic form radiating fury and pride. His eyes glow like embers. Smoke curls from his skin. The ground itself seems to recoil from him.
In a fluid motion, the monstrous form reshapes. Horns retract. Lava fades. He becomes human—sleek, bald, wearing a red silk suit that seems impossibly alive. His smile is sharp. Predatory. Confident.
"Son," whispers Elyon from behind the fractured gate. His light so bright it blinds, yet still—warm. Resonant. Infinite.
"I do believe visitors are allowed," Elyon says softly, calm yet omnipotent.
Zyanna and Elisha instinctively step back, leaving space. Even with all they've seen, the presence of a God and his son commands awe.
Lucifer grins, a sharp, dangerous twist of joy. "You're awake! From where I am standing, that is… a very good thing."
Elyon's glowing head tilts slightly, acknowledging him. "Watch yourself," He warns.
"I warned you many times, Father. Now look at where you are," Lucifer responds, voice both venomous and amused.
"I apologize, son," Elyon intones, voice echoing like molten stone. "Now, because of your brother, I am who I am—deep within the Core—and I will break out."
Lucifer's eyes flare, excited, anticipating. "Go, my son," Elyon whispers, commanding yet patient, a God's quiet authority threading through the Core.
Suddenly, a chilling, unnatural laugh echoes through the chamber.
Shadow.
The inky, void-like being slithers between all three — Elyon, Lucifer, and the visitors. Its form flickers, laughing, gloating.
"You think this is the meeting of power?" Shadow hisses, voice layered with every lost whisper of Heaven and Hell.
"I think this… is my playground."
Zyanna steps forward, hands glowing with strands of living light, brushing against Elisha's fur as reassurance.
Elisha growls, flames flickering higher, body coiled to spring.
The three forces — Elyon, Lucifer, and Shadow — stand across from them. Each radiating pure, cosmic energy.
The Core itself shivers. Reality bends.
Zyanna whispers to Elisha:
"Hold steady. We are not alone. But this… this is only the beginning."
Shadow laughs again, low and resonant, filling every crack, every shadowed corner:
"Oh… it is only the beginning. And I am already here."