The astral dome shimmered, slowly fading, revealing a battlefield reborn under silver light. The air was thick with energy—pure, celestial, untainted by shadow. Kael floated above the scorched earth, surrounded by fragments of stars that spun around him like sentient fireflies.
But the silence did not last.
A tremor ran through the fabric of the world. The ground cracked again—but not from Kael's power.
From beneath it.
A chorus of voices echoed through the sky—low, ancient, and fragmented. Whispers spoken in a thousand dialects, yet all carried one name:
"Az'kareth."
Kael's eyes narrowed. He landed slowly, cloak drifting down like falling ash.
Lyra and Valen approached from the ridges beyond, battered but alive. Valen's expression was pale. "Kael… do you know that name?"
Kael's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "Az'kareth... is the First Flame. The original power. Even before time, before the Entity, it was the source."
Lyra stiffened. "I thought that was just myth."
Kael didn't answer.
Because beneath them, the soil turned to glass. The sky rippled like water. And from the broken core of the world, something began to rise a being made not of flesh or spirit, but of origin.
It was a flame but not red or orange. It was white, blinding, interlaced with starlight and void alike.
And it spoke.
"You have touched the Celestial Throne, Kael. You have bonded with the Entity. But to wield the full force of godhood, you must now pass through the Crucible of Flame."
Kael stepped forward, the stars in his blood thrumming.
"What is the Crucible?"
"A trial. One no god has passed. One that burns not the body, but the soul. You will face every version of yourself—every failure, every corrupted path, every death you were supposed to have."
Valen's voice trembled. "Kael, don't. This thing… it's older than war itself."
Kael glanced back at them, the glow of divinity still fresh in his veins. "If I don't pass it, I won't survive what's coming."
The flame expanded, forming a gate of white fire. Inside, shadows moved Kaels of countless timelines. Some screaming. Some laughing. One kneeling before a broken world.
He took a breath—and stepped inside.
The fire closed behind him.
And the trial of gods began.