Chapter 1 : Devine Sentence
1399 Words
“You broke the order.”
The voice cracked through the sky, sharp as lightning, cold as judgment. It rang with the power of something ancient.Not just a god, but the very breath of balance itself. It echoed without echo, pressing against the broken earth like a storm wrapped in silence.
Rheon knelt.
Wind whipped across the desolate plain, coarse and dry. It dragged dust in curling spirals around him, tugging at the loose ends of his clothes. His body bent against it, not in resistance, but surrender. His head lowered. His shoulders slumped beneath invisible weight.
His robes, once sacred, hung in tatters. Dust clung to every fold, every shadow of his skin. His hands, rough and bloodless, pressed into the ground that pulsed faintly with a red glow. The earth beneath him was cracked and scorched, like something ancient had burned it from within.
The wind howled.
It wasn’t a cry. It was a warning. A lament carried through air that had forgotten the scent of rain.
“I only wanted to stop the bloodshed,” he said, voice nearly lost to the gust. “Killing humans was never meant to be divine behavior.”
The wind stilled for a breath.Then the voice returned, not louder, but heavier.
“You were chosen to guide, not to decide. You were the hand of balance. You became the weapon of judgment.”
Rheon’s fingers curled into the dust.
“I killed him because he forgot that truth,” he whispered. “Because he wanted to burn everything… to devour mortals as if they were nothing. I stopped him.”
“You murdered your own.” The voice was colder now. Final.
“You must face your own crime. The rule should be the rule.”The words struck like iron across his spine. The wind howled louder, rising around him like a storm summoned by the heavens themselves. Dust whipped at his face, stung his eyes, but he did not lift his head.
Rheon pressed his palms into the ground, his voice shaking. “I’ve tried,” he said, almost choking on the words. “I’ve spent lifetimes trying to undo what was done. I’ve healed the sick. I’ve stopped wars. I’ve walked among them, blessing where I could. My existence… it helped people.”
Silence followed.The sky above trembled with light .Not warm light, but the burning cold of stars before they collapse. The world held its breath.
His knees sank deeper into the dust.
“I’ve changed,” he whispered. “Haven’t I done enough to be forgiven?”
The wind paused.The silence now felt different not empty, but watching.Then the voice returned. Calm. Cold. Unyielding.
“You chose your path. And now, the path chooses you.”
Above him, the sky split in a flash of blinding light. The wind roared. The cracked earth beneath him glowed red-hot as if the ground itself rejected his plea. The air twisted into a spiral of flame and shadow, and in the center of it.
A mark appeared beneath his feet.
Circular. Ancient. Divine.
It pulsed once.Then everything shattered.The voice echoed like thunder.
“You have to make it up. Face the crime you committed. You will be just a man without immortality. You will face devastation. And death.”
The wind struck harder, lifting dust into the air in choking clouds. The sky above crackled, pulsing with an unseen power that pressed down on his shoulders like chains of flame.
Rheon screamed into the storm.
“I did well all this time! Is this what I get in return?” His voice cracked, raw with pain. “You know me, don’t you? You know everything I did was for a reason. You saw it all!”
His fists struck the ground. Cracks spread beneath them like veins of fire.
“Poor me,” he whispered, broken. “Bless me. Forgive my sin. I’m begging you.”
He knelt lower, forehead nearly touching the scorched ground. The wind roared behind him. The pressure surged, like something sacred rejecting his presence. His body trembled beneath it. The divine force pushing down made every bone in him feel like it might break.
Then, silence.
A single breath of stillness, stretched into eternity.And then the final voice returned.Calm , cold, absolute.
“Your power will return when the time comes. Your immortality will find you, if you deserve it.”
“Live with your sin.”
“You will receive what you have given.”
A blinding light consumed him.And everything turned to ash.The ashes hung in the air, weightless and slow.
They drifted like forgotten memories, pale and glowing, as if the sky itself had burned and was now mourning in silence. The red glow of the divine realm faded behind them, and the light above turned softer. Clouded, earthly, blue.
And then came the sound.
Rubber on asphalt. The low growl of an engine, hurried but steady. A vehicle cut through the countryside road with urgency, its tires humming with tension. The wind carried the ash, blending it into the mist of a quiet world that didn’t yet know a soul was about to return.
Inside the car, a woman gasped.
Her breath was uneven, tight with pain, but her eyes were focused. Her hair clung to her face, damp from sweat, and both hands trembled .One clutching her swollen belly, the other gripping the door handle with everything she had.
“We’re almost there, honey. Can you hold on a little longer?”
The man beside her glanced toward her, jaw tight, eyes flicking back to the road. His voice was calm but laced with urgency, like he was trying to keep both the car and himself from falling apart.
The woman nodded, but her whole body trembled. Pain surged through her again, sharp and raw, forcing a cry from her lips.
She leaned forward, forehead pressing to the dashboard, tears blurring her vision.
“It’s time,” she whispered. “He’s coming. I can feel it.”
Her hand pressed against her belly. Life moved within her, restless and powerful. Like something ancient trying to find its way into the world.
And outside, unnoticed, the ash continued to fall.Soft. Silent.As if blessing the arrival of something no one could understand.
Above the hospital, the sky shifted.
Ashes drifted in slow spirals, circling the rooftop like a quiet omen. Soft, glowing specks floated downward, unseen by the people below but present. Watching.
Inside, the emergency doors flew open.A bed surged down the hallway, surrounded by voices and urgency. Nurses called out vitals. The woman on the bed gritted her teeth, one hand gripping the rail, the other pressed to her belly as pain twisted through her body.
“She’s crowning!”
“Contractions are under thirty seconds — we need her in now!”
“BP’s dropping!”
The nurse at the head of the bed looked down at her face. Her lips were pale. Her skin had taken on a faint, dangerous gray.
“She’s losing too much blood!”
The woman tried to speak, but the words came out as a broken gasp. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second before she forced them open again.
“I… I can’t breathe…”
“Stay with us! Don’t close your eyes, do you hear me?”
The bed slammed through the childbirth room doors. “Prep for emergency delivery! Oxygen now!”
Monitors beeped wildly. Nurses moved in a flurry. The doctor’s gloves snapped into place. The air was thick with sweat, panic, and the sharp scent of antiseptic. Somewhere beyond the room, thunder rumbled faintly, though no storm was forecast.
Outside the hospital, unnoticed by anyone below, the ash spiraled in the sky.
It no longer drifted aimlessly.
It moved with purpose now. Gathering above the rooftop, swirling tighter, heavier, as if drawn to a fixed point beneath the clouds.
The air around it had thickened, silent but alert, like the world was holding its breath.
Something ancient was stirring.
Not loud. Not violent. But present.
And it had waited long for this hour. For this vessel. For this boy whose pulse now echoed the rhythm of forgotten power.
The ash spun faster—faintly glowing, barely visible to the naked eye.A dance older than time itself.
Whatever it was, it had returned.
And it had chosen.
- Writer
