Everything that begins must eventually end, and souls are no exception. They pass through tless lives, each shaping them until they reach their final stage. A soul that fulfills its jourransforms into somethiraordinary—a new beginning, marking the path to being a Goddess. This final transformation requires immense merits accumuted over lifetimes. Those who fail are fragmeheir cycle starting anew. Yet one exceptios: the Abyss.
The Abyss was once a soul like any other but became ed by greed. Rejeg the natural cycle, it fed oment, transf into the embodiment of darkness and evil. Over time, the Abyss grew into a realm of shadow, luring mortals with promises of power and desires fulfilled. While the gods offered faith and light, the Abyss offered immediate gratification—at a price. Mortals, driven by pride, greed, and other vices, willingly sacrificed their morals and humanity, being agents of darkness. The Abyss’s power swelled, rivaling the Heavenly Pace, until it dared to mod challehe gods themselves.
A war erupted. Despite the gods’ might, the Abyss prevailed, shrouding the once-luminous Heavenly Pa darkness. Now, its creator, the ORUE BEING, walked its silent halls, burdened by guilt.
“All these years, I dwelled in this pace, yet I ruly saw it—crafted by those I loved and still cherish. Many are gone now, and I carry the shame of their loss. How foolish I was to believe my power was unassaible, blind to the shadows I allowed to grow. Yet despair is not my path. I am the ORUE BEING, creator of all. I must act.”
The pace corridors, once alive with light aes between the civil and violent gods, were now engulfed in suffog darkness. Only a handful of gods and goddesses remaihe ORUE BEING gathered them ihrone room, their presence dwarfed by the vast, dim space.
“My dear subjects,” he began, his voice heavy with resolve, “the Heavenly Pace has fallen. Tomorrow, it may no longer exist. Yet, in this despair, I see hope. Mortals may survive thanks to the rising new gods and goddesses. I was too merciful with the Abyss, my owion, and this is my burden to bear. But now, I will pour the st of my power into one final act of creation—a glimmer of hope.”
The gods and goddesses awaited his and with reverent anticipation. Turning to Desdemona, he asked, “What are the odds of a soul pleting its st cycle and being a being capable of rest the Heavens?”
Desdemona bowed. “There are a few nearing their final cycle, but only one shows true potential. I ot dis its exact identity or attributes.”
“Cato,” the ORUE BEING called, “do you know more?”
Cato replied, “Yes, my Lord. This soul has ruled in every lifetime, fronting challenges with unwavering resolve. Even the Abyss regards it cautiously. It carries both civil and violent attributes and has accumuted enough merits to bee an indepe existence before pleting its cycles.”
The ORUE BEING summohe soul, its brilliance illuminating the darkened room. “My dear subjects, mortals who fight against the Abyss carry blessings from one god. But this soul—this savior—will bear the power of us all. Only one who has endured millions of lives and amassed unparalleled merits bear such a burden. Join me in this final act.”
One by ohe gods and goddesses eled their remaining power into the chosen soul. Their forms faded as they gave their essence, leaving only the ORUE BEING. As he began to dissolve, he whispered his st words: “My child, be the hope for my creation. Guide them to the light, for darkness exists only to make it shine brighter.”
When the Heavenly Pace vanished, its silence marked the end of an era. The gods and goddesses were gone, and humanity faced an uain future, alo not without hope.
HUNDREDS OF YEARS LATER:In a grand pace within the mortal realm, maids rushed through its corridors. One, hastening toward a chamber, was stopped by a voice.“Where are you going in such a hurry?”“The first prince’s wife is in bor,” she replied, disappearing down the hall toward destiny.
