The world around Vael lay in ruins. Smoke curled into the sky like mourning wails, and the once-proud city crumbled beneath divine destruction. His mother's body rested motionless beside him, her warmth fading, stolen by the merciless battle above.
The gods had done this.
Vael's chest heaved, his vision blurred with rage and grief. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Above him, two colossal figures clashed, their forms obscured by golden light and writhing shadows. Each collision sent shockwaves through the ruins, tearing apart what little remained.
He could not let this continue.
His body screamed in protest, exhaustion clawing at his limbs, but his will remained firm. He lifted his gaze to the sky and forced himself to move. Step by step, he pushed forward, weaving through shattered streets, climbing over fallen steel and stone. The ground trembled, but he did not falter. He was only human, powerless against beings who could shatter mountains with a gesture—but he refused to accept that. The gods had taken everything. He would not let them take more.
A thunderous impact rocked the earth as one of the deities crashed into the ground. The force sent Vael sprawling, dust and debris filling the air. As he struggled to rise, a towering figure emerged from the crater—a being of searing radiance, its shifting golden armor gleaming like a miniature sun. It barely spared him a glance before preparing to rejoin the battle.
To it, he was nothing.
But Vael would not be ignored.
With a cry torn from the depths of his soul, he launched himself forward. His muscles screamed as he pushed beyond his limits, snatching a jagged piece of rebar from the rubble. His own blood slicked its rusted surface, his grip unyielding. Heart pounding, he closed the distance, driven by nothing but the need to strike, to hurt, to make them feel even an ounce of his pain.
The rebar struck true—but instead of piercing divine flesh, it clanged uselessly against golden armor. The impact jolted through his arms, numbing them instantly. He stumbled back, breath hitching as the god finally turned to face him, its burning gaze narrowing in what seemed like curiosity.
Then, with an almost casual motion, it raised a hand.
A pulse of energy erupted, slamming into Vael like a tidal wave. Agony flared through him as he was flung through the air, crashing against fractured stone. His vision swam, the world tilting and spinning. Pain lanced through every fiber of his being, and for a moment, he could not breathe.
He was nothing compared to them.
Weak.
Insignificant.
A failure.
And yet…
He moved.
His fingers clawed against the ground, dragging himself forward despite the searing pain. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to surrender to the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. Slowly, he rose—first to his knees, then to his feet. His blood dripped onto the cracked pavement, mixing with the dust and ash.
The god remained indifferent, already turning away.
Rage flared inside him. "You think I'll just stay down?" His voice was hoarse, but unshaken. "You destroy our world like we're nothing. You don't even see us. But I swear… I will make you see me."
The god did not reply. Before Vael could act, another explosion rocked the sky. The second deity, wreathed in darkness, surged forward, its voice shaking the heavens. "Enough distractions. The battle is not with mortals."
With a single wave of its hand, a barrier of sheer force erupted between Vael and the gods, cutting him off entirely. He slammed his fists against it, screaming in frustration as the deities resumed their war, far beyond mortal reach.
Vael fell to his knees, breath ragged, body broken—but his spirit unyielding. He had faced a god. He had stood when no one else dared. And even though he had failed, even though he was powerless now…
This was not the end. He had made a promise—to save his mother. And he would keep it, even if he had to save her from death.
One day, he would rise. One day, he would not just stand against them.
One day, he would bring them down.
But as those words settled in his mind, despair coiled around him like a suffocating shroud. He had thrown everything he had at them—his rage, his grief, his will—and it had amounted to nothing. To them, he was an insect beneath their feet, a whisper lost in the storm of their war. No matter how much he fought, how much he bled, they did not care. They never would.
A bitter laugh escaped him, raw and hollow. "I am nothing to them… nothing…"
His body trembled, but he forced himself upright, defying the crushing weight of his own weakness. "Then I will become something they fear. Even if I have to lose myself, even if I have to become a monster, I will make them suffer. I will make them fall like the insects they see us as."
As if in answer to his vow, agony ripped through him. His vision darkened, his body convulsing as an overwhelming force seized him from within. He barely had time to process the searing pain before the world around him dissolved into shadow. His knees buckled, his breath faltering.
Then, in the depths of his torment—he awakened.
Power surged through his veins, raw and untamed. The ground beneath him trembled, cracks spiderwebbing outward as his newfound energy seethed. He was no longer a mere mortal—a whisper ignored by the gods. He had become their nemesis.
The battle above raged on, oblivious. But they would know. They would feel it.
The air warped around him, heat distorting reality itself as orbs of crackling energy pulsed with devastation. Dark tendrils of force coiled around his body, intertwining with streaks of crimson, flickering like dying embers. The very earth beneath him cracked and melted, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of his awakening.
His body no longer ached. The exhaustion that once dragged at his limbs had vanished, replaced by a storm of strength. He clenched his fists, feeling the power that once seemed unreachable now burning within him like an untamed inferno.
With a single step, the world quaked beneath him. With a single breath, the storm howled in answer.
The gods had ignored him before.
They would never ignore him again. And when he rose to claim his vengeance, he would not rise alone. He would tear through the heavens if he had to, and he would bring her back.