The Heavenly Court grows quiet.
The endless chants are gone. The divine resonance that once filled the halls has faded into silence. Lower gods stare at their own hands as their light weakens and regeneration slows to a crawl. For the first time, exhaustion settles into immortal bodies.
One god whispers the truth aloud—they are growing tired.
The God of Chains names it for what it is.
Hunger.
With the Divine Anchors destroyed, the Gods have begun consuming themselves to remain functional. Immortality is no longer effortless. Power now has a cost.
Below, the mortal realms begin to change.
Prayers go unanswered. Blessings are delayed. Miracles fail without explanation. Across countless worlds, faith begins to fracture as mortals ask questions they were never meant to ask. Are the Gods weakening? Are they no longer listening?
Fear enters the temples.
And within every whispered doubt, one name begins to circulate—Raiyen.
Raiyen himself does nothing.
He sits atop a ruined spire, unarmed, his Soul Flame dormant. The Godslayer Sigil glows faintly, passively recording every consequence as if it were a ledger of judgement. Veyra questions his restraint—he could end the Gods at any moment.
Raiyen answers without emotion.
Death is easy.
Hunger is judgement.
From afar, Korrin remarks that Raiyen is beginning to act like a god. Raiyen corrects her calmly—he is acting better than they ever did.
In Heaven, desperation forces a decision.
An emergency council convenes. The God of Chains proposes reactivating a Divine Anchor, fully aware of the price. To fuel it, an entire realm must be sacrificed. After a moment of silence, approval is given.
The line is crossed.
The moment the ritual begins, Raiyen's Soul Flame ignites on its own—not in rage, but in disgust. Through the Godslayer Sigil, he sees the truth: a complete realm chosen to be reduced to fuel.
Raiyen speaks quietly. When hunger strikes, the Gods become exactly what they always were.
He intervenes—but he does not attack.
Raiyen does not cut the ritual.
He redirects it.
The harvested energy never reaches Heaven. It is diverted into a void loop, endlessly dissipating into nothing. The sacrifice is completed—but entirely wasted.
Heaven receives nothing.
The Gods are left stunned. The God of Chains realizes the truth too late—the ritual itself has been hijacked.
Deep within Heaven's oldest chamber, the God of Light opens his eyes fully. This time, he does not merely observe.
He states the truth plainly.
Raiyen is no longer reacting.
He is deciding.
With a measured pause, the God of Light gives a command—bring the Scales of Verdict. The God of Chains freezes at the implication.
Judgement is returning.
At the ruins of the destroyed altar, void energy fades into silence. Raiyen looks toward the sky and speaks with calm certainty. Hunger is what happens when power becomes habit. Now, the Gods will learn who they are without it.
The Godslayer Sigil glows heavier for a single moment.
Not an awakening.
Not yet.
Just a warning.