Fifteen years afore the dimming of mortal stars…
The Celestial Palace, Floating Isles of Paradios
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A thunderous CLANG! rent the firmament, as if the bones of the cosmos clashed in wrath.
BOOM!
Followed by the sky quaking as fissures of light bleeding through the heavens.
AAARGH!!
Screams of divine beings torn asunder echoed across the boundless void right out of the Celestial Palace.
Upon the Floating Isles of Paradios, where crystalline spires pierced the swirling nebulae, hundreds of high-ranked mage-soldiers clad in obsidian armor—forged from the shadows of fallen stars—unleashed torrents of annihilation upon the palace guardians, resplendent in verdant mail that shimmered like the first dawn.
The guardians caught off guard faltered, their celestial fellows falling one by one, for this was an ambush woven in the dark thread which even their queen who could see into the future never expected and their spirits were unready for such treachery. The battle tilted against them, a tide of ruin swallowing their light with merciless jaws.
Each moment bore witness to a crescendo of devastation. The Isles trembled as palaces of prismatic glass shattered into fractal storms, their shards raining like tears of a dying god. Soldiers of green were unmade, their essences scattering into the ether, while the dark army's assaults tore at the very fabric of Paradios, rivers of molten starfire erupted, and the air itself screamed as it was sundered by unholy might.
From the arched window of the throne chamber, Regina, Celestial of Power, gazed upon this cataclysm with a heart heavy as collapsing suns. Her sigh was a wind that stirred the tapestries of fate, her eyes tracing the ruin wrought by the legion of shadow, those black-clad harbingers of oblivion.
She turned, her will still strong amidst the storm, and poured the last of her radiant dominion into a monolithic stone—black as the void's heart, yet veined with green tendrils of cosmic life. Within it pulsed not only her essence but a deeper secret: the Veiled Nexus, a fragment of the First Will, the primordial force that birthed the Celestials and held the key to unmaking or remaking all that is. Her hands trembled as she bound this mystery to the rock, a vessel now aglow with the weight of eternity.
"How has the wheel of aeons spun so astray?" she mused, her voice a melody of sorrow, as tears like liquid starlight traced rivers down her face.
In epochs lost to mortal reckoning, Tenebris, Celestial of Darkness, had risen from the humblest of ranks, a spark yearning to blaze among the mighty. Yet when the exalted Celestials rejected him for his frail light, he turned to a shadowed path. Like a vulture amidst carrion, he feasted upon the weak, devouring their essences to swell his own. With each fallen low-rank Celestial, his hunger grew, until he hunted the high-ranked, their powers bending to his insatiable will.
At first, the Ouranios, the Celestial Realm, paid him no heed, deeming him a fleeting shadow. But swiftly he grew mighty, a storm eclipsing the stars, until none could deny his challenge to the thrones of heavens. Rex, Regina's consort and King of Celestials, marshaled a host of radiant warriors and divine kin to bind this rising abyss. Yet Tenebris, like a reaper clad in midnight, sundered them all—save those who knelt and offered their light in surrender.
Now, Regina alone remained, her power the brightest flame in the celestial tapestry, and thus Tenebris descended upon her palace, a predator seeking the final jewel to crown his tyranny.
"The hour is woven, and I am its thread," Regina intoned, wiping the starlit tears from her eyes. She rose, her will unshaken, and released the stone. It surged from her grasp, a comet of shadow and emerald fire, piercing the battlefield where light and dark clashed in a maelstrom of shattered realities. The rock tore through the veil of Paradios, rending the sky with a howl that shook the pillars of existence, and vanished into a realm beyond even her sight—a hidden plane where the Veiled Nexus might slumber or awaken, its purpose a riddle even to her.
Now she stood, a hollow vessel, her power cast adrift on cosmic winds.
BOOM! The twin doors of the throne chamber—carved from the bones of a fallen star—burst asunder, their fragments spiraling into nothingness. A figure strode forth, towering at twelve feet, a giant even among Celestials. His armor, wrought of writhing dark energy, pulsed like a living abyss, tendrils of shadow coiling and snapping as he moved. His helm dissolved into mist, revealing a visage scarred by battles older than worlds: a jagged wound cleaved from forehead to chin through his left eye, black hair wild as a tempest, and a grin that promised ruin. Yet as his foot crossed the threshold, the air shivered—a ripple of wrongness he could not name.
"Greetings, O Regina, bearer of the crown of might," he rumbled, his voice a chorus of grinding stone and distant thunder.
"Speak not my name so lightly, thou slayer of kin," she replied, her tone steady as the orbit of stars. She sat serene upon the central throne, one of three forged from molten gold plucked from the heart of a dying sun. Her gown of green satin flowed like a river of light, her hair and eyes a verdant flame, a beauty eternal and unyielding. The king's throne, vastest of the trio, loomed at her back, a silent witness to her resolve.
"Thou knowest the prize I seek, Regina. Let us not dance the steps of strife needlessly," Tenebris pressed, his words a blade unsheathed.
"I shall not yield to thee, devourer of light," she declared, pausing as if to weigh the threads of time. "What shadow fell upon thee, Tenebris? Once thou wert a lantern dim but true. Whence came this hunger that gnaws at thy soul?"
"As a seed buried beneath stone, I languished, scorned by the mighty," he answered, his voice rising like a tide of ash. "I sought the halls of splendor, the radiance of thy side, O Regina. Yet none offered me soil to grow. Thus I carved my own garden, watered with the blood of the proud. In this vast cosmos, power is the root, and strength the bloom—whoso holds them holds all."
"Thou art astray, Tenebris," she countered, her words a gentle wind through ancient groves. "Power is but a river; it flows to serve, not to drown. Turn back, for the hour is not yet sealed. Together we might mend what thou hast torn."
"Nay, Regina," he roared, his grin a crescent of malice. "I am the river's master now, and none shall steer my course. I wield the might of a hundred Celestials, yet it is a mere ember. I crave the inferno—thy power, the greatest of all, and with it I shall reign over the endless expanse."
"Sooner would I fade into the void than see my light twisted in thy grasp, thou mad shepherd of ruin," she said, calm as the eye of a storm, a serenity that once drew his heart but now fueled his rage.
"Then fade thou shalt!" he bellowed, raising a hand wreathed in crimson darkness, a glow that promised annihilation. Yet no force followed—only silence, heavy and hollow.
His scarred brow furrowed, confusion a crack in his dominion. "What sorcery is this? Where lies thy strength?"
A faint smile, delicate as dawn, curved Regina's lips. "Thou shalt never claim my power, Tenebris."
"Where hast thou hidden it?" he thundered, his form blurring as he surged to her throne in a heartbeat, his hand closing around her throat. "Speak, or I shall rend the truth from thy bones!"
"I… know… not…" she gasped, her voice a thread strained against his grip.
"What riddle is this?" he snarled, his voice now a furnace roar, his eyes twin pyres of red fury. "Thou canst not be ignorant of its refuge!"
"Even… if… I… knew…" she choked, defiance unbroken, "I… would… not… yield… it… to… thee."
Tenebris's mind churned like a collapsing star. Could she truly have cast her power—and the Veiled Nexus—beyond her own ken? The thought gnawed at him, a wound deeper than any scar. He tightened his grasp, staring into her unyielding eyes. "Then let us pluck the secret another way, O keeper of mysteries."