Episode 40: The Return of the Abyssal Gods
The world seemed still for a fleeting moment, a quiet between breaths that Kael barely registered. Standing alone amidst the aftermath of the battle, the echoes of the Abyssal creature's death reverberated through the air. The once roaring winds had calmed, and the battleground, littered with the remnants of the colossal monster, was now eerily silent. No wind stirred the tattered banners of his army, no cries of triumph rang out, and no footsteps followed his own as he moved forward. Only the distant rumble of thunder still clung to the horizon, a reminder that the storm of conflict had yet to fully pass.
Kael stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the ruined creature's body, its form disintegrating into a fine dust that mingled with the earth like ash from a long-forgotten war. His body felt like lead, each movement an effort as if the very air he breathed weighed him down. The battle had taken every ounce of strength he had, leaving him hollow, a shell of the warrior he once was.
His hands, trembling slightly, gripped the Chrono Blade with an instinctive strength that felt foreign to him. Time, that ethereal concept he had once believed he could control, had nearly slipped from his grasp during the battle. For the briefest of moments, he had felt it—time slipping away from him, as if even the blade had lost its ability to bend reality. That had never happened before. Was it because of the creature's power, or had he underestimated the true weight of his own abilities?
"Did I win?" Kael murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the whistling wind. He glanced back toward the distant horizon, eyes narrowing as he scanned the sky for any signs of further danger. His heart was heavy, knowing that the battle was not truly over. This creature, despite being one of the harbingers, was nothing more than a scout—an agent sent to prepare the world for something far worse.
The Abyssal Gods.
Kael shuddered at the thought. He had heard of them only in whispers—ancient legends that had been passed down for generations. But those stories were never meant to be believed. They were fairy tales, meant to scare children into obedience, to remind them of their place in the world. But the truth had come crashing into reality. The Abyssal Gods were real, and they were coming.
But the battle had taken its toll. Kael could feel it. His pulse, once steady, now throbbed painfully in his chest. His head spun with the aftermath of his efforts to manipulate time—his very core drained from the continuous effort. Every nerve in his body ached, and his mind, clouded with fatigue, struggled to focus. The Chrono Blade seemed heavier than ever, its glow flickering as if in response to Kael's weakened state. The blade had been forged to bend time, to allow its wielder to shape reality. But it was only a tool—Kael understood that now more than ever. The true power didn't come from the blade, but from within him. And he wasn't sure if he was ready for the journey ahead.
With a strained breath, Kael turned, his legs wobbling beneath him as he began to walk toward the distant fortress—the heart of the war effort. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. Every movement was an effort. As he walked, the earth beneath his feet felt unstable, as if the very ground he trod on was at war with itself. The strange rumbling sensation lingered in the air, vibrating through his body, as though the Abyss itself was already seeping into the fabric of the world.
It took longer than Kael expected to reach the fortress, his pace faltering. Each step reminded him of the immense strain he was under. But there was no time for weakness, no time for doubt. The future of the realms rested on his shoulders.
---
By the time Kael approached the gates of the fortress, the night had fallen, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the war-torn landscape. The fortress loomed before him, its silhouette a jagged scar against the dark sky. Once a beacon of hope, it had become a shadow of its former self. The outer walls had been battered and burned by endless waves of assault, the battlements crumbling as they tried in vain to hold the enemy at bay.
But within those walls stood hope. Within those walls were his friends—his comrades in arms. The only thing that still held the kingdom together.
Kael's arrival didn't go unnoticed. Lyssia, ever vigilant, spotted him first. Her sharp eyes caught the faintest movement at the edge of the field, and within moments, she was striding toward him, her armor glinting in the dim light. Her steps were purposeful, yet there was a softness in her gaze that made Kael feel both relieved and weary.
"Kael!" she called, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and relief. "You're back."
Kael offered her a weary smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah... I'm back. But it's not over yet."
Lyssia's brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She had been by Kael's side through countless battles, and she could tell when something was wrong. The way he spoke, the way he held himself—Kael was carrying something heavier than just the weight of the battle. She had seen that look in his eyes before, after their most harrowing encounters. It was the look of someone who had glimpsed something far darker than they ever imagined.
"What happened out there?" Lyssia asked, her voice quieter now, urging him to share what weighed so heavily on his soul.
Kael's gaze darkened. "It was a harbinger... one of the creatures sent by the Abyss. I barely managed to defeat it. But it... it warned me. The Abyssal Gods are coming. This is just the beginning."
Lyssia's expression hardened as she processed his words. The Abyssal Gods. They had always been a terrifying legend, a distant myth that no one had truly believed in. But the look in Kael's eyes left no room for doubt. The darkness they had been fighting was just a fraction of what was still to come.
"Then we'll be ready," Lyssia said firmly, her resolve as steadfast as ever. "We'll fight. We'll gather the forces we need. Together, we can stop them."
Before Kael could respond, the sound of heavy boots approaching interrupted their conversation. Sylvhar, his imposing figure framed against the flickering torchlight, joined them, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. He had always been the more reserved of the group, but his strength was undeniable. If Kael was the blade, then Sylvhar was the shield.
"We need a plan," Sylvhar said, his deep voice carrying the weight of authority. "If the Abyssal Gods are coming, then we can't waste any more time. We must gather allies. The realms must unite."
Kael nodded, though the task ahead seemed insurmountable. But there was no other choice. If the realms were to survive, they would need to stand together. And that meant setting aside old grudges, old rivalries.
Seraphine, always the most analytical of the group, joined them next, her silver hair glowing faintly in the moonlight. "If they've opened the gate, then the realms will be in turmoil. We need to know more about the Abyss—how it works, how it will try to break through. If we can find a weakness, maybe we have a chance."
Kael looked at his friends—his allies—and for the first time since the battle, he felt a flicker of hope. The Abyss was a force unlike anything they had ever faced, but Kael wasn't alone. He had the strongest warriors of the realms by his side. Together, they would find a way to stop the Abyssal Gods.
He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with resolve. "Then let's get to work. The battle has just begun."
---
As the group began to formulate their plan, Kael found himself stepping away, needing a moment alone to process everything. The cold night air hit his face like a slap, and he let the silence envelop him. But even in the quiet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him—waiting.
And deep in the distance, behind the veil of reality, something stirred. A vast power, ancient and malevolent, began to awaken.
The Abyss was coming.