Celestial Plane
The realm shuddered.
Not from battle.
Not yet.
From presence.
One by one, the sky peeled open—like seams across the fabric of divinity—and the true gods stepped in.
First came Oron, tall and barefoot, his cloak trailing infinite realities. As he entered, the floor beneath him rearranged itself—hierarchy reacting to its architect. With a single nod, every pillar of Order bowed slightly.
Next was Selira, her body humming with the language of creation. Symbols flowed across her skin like tides—runes that morphed as she breathed. As she walked, the mirrored marble changed—reflecting potential futures she had already dismissed.
Then Irivelle arrived in a cold wind that made even the godlight dim. Her eyes shimmered like frozen moons, and her silence cracked the air like frostbite. Where she stood, time slowed… then stilled.
