It began with the Xerzes elders, those whose transformations had long since faded, returning them to their original forms. They heard voices—not from the air, but from the soil beneath them. The ground was speaking.
The Folqi, with their enhanced senses, felt it next. Their ability to pierce illusions told them that something unnatural was shifting. The light itself flickered with an unseen force. Their miniature suns trembled in their hands, reacting to an unknown energy.
Then came the Opoove, the elemental manipulators, who found their powers faltering. Water refused to bend. Fire lost its heat. The very elements they had mastered seemed hesitant, as if the world itself was hesitating.
The planet was waking up.
For the first time since its creation, the being inside was nearing its rebirth. The bodies it had consumed for eons had finally granted it enough energy to emerge once more.
But what would happen to the civilizations when their god no longer needed them?