Chapter 1: The Night of Betrayal

The storm had raged for so long that Amanda had forgotten what silence felt like.

For over a day and night, the heavens had been in uproar, shaking under the weight of an unimaginable war. The sun had refused to rise. The moon had hidden behind the swirling clouds, too afraid to bear witness. Time itself felt stretched thin, caught in an endless cycle of fire and lightning, of roaring winds and crumbling earth.

The gods were fighting.

And Amanda could do nothing but watch.

She wasn't alone.

Around her, dozens of villagers ran through the wreckage of the forest, stumbling over broken ground, ducking as pieces of the heavens fell like meteors. They were farmers, traders, children—ordinary people who had spent the last few years living under Andrea's protection. Now they were fleeing for their lives, thrown into a war they had no part in.

But even as they ran, Amanda stayed close to the barrier.

The golden dome stood firm, stretching high above them, glowing with divine energy so thick it distorted the very air. Andrea was inside—trapped, alone. The moment it had fallen, Amanda and the others had tried to reach her, but their hands passed through the light as if it weren't there at all.

It was not meant for them.

It was only meant for her.

Andrea stood within it, her body half-translucent, like flowing water, the glow of her form shifting between solid and liquid, as though she wasn't fully bound to reality. Her silver-blue hair moved constantly, as if caught in an unseen tide, flickering with the glow of distant stars. Her eyes—deep, endless blue—like staring into the ocean's depths, where something ancient lurked beneath the surface.

She was beautiful. She was terrifying.

And she was about to fight.

Andrea pressed a palm against the shimmering wall, testing its strength. The glow beneath her fingers flickered violently, as though it might collapse under her sheer willpower alone.

For a moment, Amanda had believed she might break through.

Then the first attack came.

And the world exploded.

A pillar of flame and fury crashed down from the sky as the red god descended upon her like a falling star, his molten body a living weapon. He was colossal, towering over Andrea, his body made of cracked obsidian and fire. His veins pulsed with molten gold, shifting with every breath, and his eyes—blinding white-hot flame—burned with a rage that never faded.

Andrea barely twisted aside in time, her form blurring as she dodged, and the impact of his strike sent a deafening shockwave outward, flattening forests, splitting the earth into yawning chasms.

The fight had begun.

That was yesterday.

The villagers had not stopped running since.

They had fled into the deeper forests, trying to escape the collapsing landscape, but there was no escaping a battle between gods. The earth quaked beneath their feet, divine aftershocks ripping through the ground, shattering rivers, bending trees like blades of grass.

Amanda had not left the barrier's edge.

Even as people screamed, even as elders collapsed from exhaustion, even as others pleaded with her to keep moving, she refused to turn away.

Andrea was still fighting.

Even with the barrier restricting her movements, even outnumbered, she had held her own. She moved like the storm itself—unpredictable, untamed, too fast for even gods to grasp. Her blue light had danced through the heavens, a lone star defying the endless void.

The red god struck again and again, but his fire did not burn her.

The green god fought too, but not with the same fury. His tall, lean body was made of intertwining vines, bark, and moss, shifting constantly as if in slow, ceaseless motion. His emerald eyes glowed softly, but there was hesitation in them, a weight that did not belong in the gaze of a god. His hair—a crown of twisting vines and hanging flowers—moved like living roots, shifting with unseen winds.

He wasn't truly fighting her. He was stalling.

Amanda saw it.

Andrea saw it too.

Then, the golden goddess finally moved.

Unlike the others, she did not charge, did not strike with elemental fury. She simply raised a single hand.

The air went still.

Her body was not flesh but shifting golden light, as if she were carved from pure radiance. She was perfect, flawless—but cold. Unmoving. She did not breathe, did not blink. Her eyes—pure gold—were empty. Uncaring.

A single whisper left her lips.

And suddenly, the barrier began to change.

Before, it had been a simple prison. But now, it was collapsing inward.

Andrea stumbled.

Not from exhaustion.

Not from pain.

But from something unseen wrapping around her.

The very air inside the barrier was shifting, pressing down, not just on her body but on her soul.

Amanda lurched forward, her hands slamming against the barrier.

"No—!"

Andrea clenched her fists, her eyes burning with defiance.

A single, final shockwave of power erupted from her, rippling outward, crashing against the barrier's golden walls with enough force to shake the entire world.

For a moment—just a moment—Amanda believed she might break free.

But the golden light only tightened, coiling around Andrea like invisible chains.

Her body jerked violently, her limbs freezing in place. The divine seal was taking hold.

Then, slowly, she looked downward.

Right at Amanda.

Their eyes met.

And through all the chaos, all the destruction—Andrea smiled.

Then the seal collapsed inward.

A final, blinding explosion of golden light engulfed everything.

When the glow faded, the storm had ceased.

Andrea—the last god who had ever loved humanity—was gone.

The villagers wept.

Amanda fell to her knees, shaking.

But even as the others cried, even as some lost faith, Amanda's rage burned brighter.

"Andrea will return."

And when she did...

Amanda would make sure the gods remembered her name