In the year 2040, high above the vital bridge connecting the modern metropolis, the air condensed almost to the point of freezing. Black clouds surged like spilled ink pouring into the river below, creating dark, furiously roaring whirlpools. Floating in the void above, the anomalous silhouette of Daviy loomed silent as a jagged tear ripping through the sky. He was motionless, as if in a deep slumber, yet the invisible pressure radiating from his body crushed every inch of the atmosphere below.
Hours passed in suffocating silence. Suddenly, the space beside Daviy rippled gently. A soft light, carrying the scent of ash and ancient tomes, coalesced into the phantom figure of an old man. Mithrael — the 5-billion-year-old deity, Creator of Earth — had manifested.
“How long have you waited for this moment, mortal?” Mithrael's voice did not echo, but vibrated directly in the consciousness of all things on Earth, like an ancient decree transmitted from the dawn of time.✦ 1
I have not waited. I am simply breaking a meaningless loop. Deities dwell inside mortals, handing out supernatural powers like breadcrumbs, only to reclaim them when their physical vessels wither. That sacrifice is not precious; it is a confinement wrapped in the guise of benevolence.
Mithrael stared in shock deep into Daviy's soul. For a deity who had lived billions of years and witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations, Daviy's soul was the most bizarre anomaly. It was infinitely dark, deep as the abyss of the Pantheon, yet hidden within was an intellect so razor-sharp it was terrifying.
Without a word of warning, Daviy opened his eyes. Black irises without whites locked directly onto Mithrael's aura. He reached out, his five fingers curling as if to crush reality itself. Mithrael's incorporeal Creator power was abruptly pulled with violent force, like a flood finding a new outlet, rushing wildly into Daviy's body.
✦ 1Mithrael's aura shook violently. The space surrounding the bridge shattered into pieces, revealing the dark void of the cosmos. This seized divine energy surpassed all predefined thresholds, beginning to form the lifeblood of the new world — Le Caltia.
“You... you are stealing the core foundation of Earth!” Mithrael spoke, and for the first time in 5 billion years, his voice trembled.
“If Earth must perish to give birth to an era where mortals hold their own destiny, then your sacrifice is the very first brick. Thank you for your power, Mithrael. Now, this world belongs to me.”
Daviy drew the short sword strapped behind his waist. The blade vibrated violently, drinking in the first drops of divine blood dripping from Mithrael's fractured aura. A new consciousness, half of Daviy's malice and half of Mithrael's benevolence, silently awakened in the depths of the sword. That was Aether — the future embodiment of the good-evil paradox.✦ 1