Chapter 4

Word of the Apostates' defiance reached the celestial realm. The Gods' Council convened—an assembly of deities, each representing an aspect of existence. They gathered in the Hall of Starfire, their thrones carved from moonstone and obsidian.

Lyra, the chief deity, presided. Her eyes, once serene, now blazed with wrath. "These mortals dare to challenge us," she thundered. "Our power wanes as their resolve grows."

The gods debated. Some favored annihilation—a cleansing fire to scorch Veridora. Others hesitated, recalling ancient pacts forged with humanity. But Lyra was unyielding. She summoned tempests, hurling lightning bolts at the city below.

Yet the Apostates stood firm. Their leader, Sylas, raised a mirror—a relic from forgotten times. The lightning reflected back, striking the gods' avatars. "We are not your playthings!" he cried.

In a hidden grove, the Oracle whispered secrets. Her eyes, milky with foresight, saw threads of destiny. "The gods' dominion wanes," she murmured. "Their power flows through mortal veins."

The Apostates listened. They sought the Oracle's guidance, tracing ancient glyphs on their skin. She revealed a prophecy: "When mortals grasp divinity, the pantheon shall shatter."