Chapter 21: The Cracks of Creation

The world trembled.

It was not the tremor of war, nor the shifting of lands—it was something deeper. A disturbance woven into the very fabric of reality.

The First Seal had broken.

Rheon sat upon the Throne of Eternity, gazing into the vastness beyond existence. His senses stretched farther than mortal understanding, touching upon worlds unseen, voids untraveled, and horrors unspoken.

And what he saw unnerved even him.

The Forgotten Ones had begun to rise.

Beings who had been erased not just from history, but from existence itself.

The gods had feared them.

But now, the gods were gone.

And Rheon, despite his ascension, knew this was not a war he could fight alone.

He clenched his fingers against the armrest of the Throne, feeling the weight of authority pulse through his veins.

His reign had just begun.

But before he could shape his world, he had to defend it.

---

The Awakening of the Forgotten King

In the ruins of an ancient kingdom, buried beneath centuries of decay, a corpse stirred.

Eyes, long since lifeless, flickered open.

The man—no, the monarch—sat up slowly, his breath ragged, his body foreign even to himself.

A voice whispered in the back of his mind, one that was neither his own nor entirely unfamiliar.

"Welcome back… Khaelos."

Khaelos. The name of a king long erased.

The name of a conqueror.

He looked down at his hands—scarred, ancient, yet unchanged.

He remembered everything.

The wars.

The betrayals.

The day the gods wiped him from the annals of history.

And now…

He was here again.

A low chuckle escaped his throat, growing into a full-bodied laugh.

"The gods are gone," he whispered.

He stood.

And the world shuddered in recognition.

The first of the Forgotten Ones had returned.

And his kingdom would rise again.

---

The Gathering Storm

Elsewhere, the impact of the broken seal rippled across existence.

In the Eastern Kingdoms, entire cities fell silent, as though reality itself had forgotten they existed.

In the Southern Wastes, the undead stirred, moving without masters, without direction—driven only by the echo of something older than necromancy.

In the skies above the world, the sun flickered for the briefest of moments, as though another force was attempting to snuff it out.

And in the heart of it all, Rheon watched.

His fingers tightened on the Throne.

He had remade the world, broken the chains of the gods—but he had not yet claimed dominion over what came next.

A choice lay before him.

Would he act as the Sovereign of Fate—defending what remained?

Or would he embrace the chaos and reshape everything once more?

His lips curled into a smirk.

"Let them come."

For whether as a ruler, a tyrant, or a god-slayer—

Rheon would ensure that this new age belonged to him.

The Sovereign's Gambit

The Pantheon had fallen.

The System had been erased.

And yet, Rheon's reign had barely begun.

He sat upon the Throne of Eternity, his presence alone shaping the new laws of existence. No longer bound by divine decrees or arbitrary limitations, the world now pulsed with raw, unfiltered power—a power that belonged only to those who dared to take it.

And there were many who dared.

The Forgotten Ones stirred. The mortal kingdoms scrambled to reclaim order. And deep within the void, something ancient and unspeakable whispered into the cracks of reality, watching, waiting.

Rheon exhaled slowly.

His throne was his by right, yet the moment he had claimed it, the true war had begun.

The gods had been tyrants, but they had also been a necessary evil. They had kept the Forgotten Ones sealed away, holding the balance of existence.

Now, with their absence, the First Seal had shattered.

And soon, the rest would follow.

But Rheon did not fear.

Because unlike the gods before him, he had no interest in simply maintaining order.

He was not their protector.

He was their executioner.

And if the world could not survive under his rule—

Then he would remake it entirely.

---

The Gathering of the Warlords

Across the shattered lands, the warlords of the mortal realm rose to power.

With the gods gone, many had seen this as an opportunity to claim their own dominion.

Yet, there were three names that stood above the rest.

King Varcen the Immortal – A warlord whose armies were undying, his soldiers returning from death stronger than before.

Lady Syva the Hollow – A sorceress who had turned her own body into a conduit of forbidden magic, consuming the souls of those she killed.

Lord Draven the Black Sun – A warlord who had bound his very life to the Eclipse Blade, a weapon that devoured time itself.

Each had carved a kingdom from the chaos, and each now turned their gaze toward the Throne of Eternity.

Would they kneel?

Or would they fight?

Rheon did not care.

For whether they came as allies or enemies, he would ensure that they served his reign.

Willingly or otherwise.

---

The Whispering Void

Beyond mortal lands, the Forgotten Ones continued to awaken.

In the ruins of an ancient city, Khaelos, the Forgotten King, gathered his first army.

Across the endless seas, a monstrous entity known as The Maw opened its eyes, preparing to consume all life.

And in the furthest reaches of existence, an eldritch entity that even the gods had feared to name stirred from its prison.

The Second Seal was breaking.

And soon, something far worse would crawl from the abyss.

Rheon leaned forward on his throne, his golden eyes gleaming.

A lesser ruler would have sought to defend against these rising forces.

But Rheon?

He would conquer them all.

For his rule was not one of mere protection.

It was one of absolute dominion.

And if the Forgotten Ones wished to return to existence, they would do so as his subjects—or his corpses.

The Era of the Sovereign had begun.

The Rise of the Second Seal

A storm unlike any before gathered over the heavens. The sky, once a vast expanse of stars, twisted into an abyss of churning darkness. It was not the absence of light—it was something deeper, something alive, as if the void itself had begun to breathe.

The Second Seal was breaking.

Rheon sat upon the Throne of Eternity, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. He had felt the shift long before the first ripples of dread had spread across the world.

The Forgotten Ones were no longer just stirring.

They were awakening.

And their first act upon returning to existence?

To test the strength of the one who now ruled.

A chuckle rumbled from Rheon's throat.

"Foolish," he murmured.

He did not fear what was coming.

He welcomed it.

---

The Breaking of the World

Across the lands, the effects of the Second Seal's collapse began to manifest.

In the north, the mountains of ice, untouched since the dawn of creation, fractured, releasing monstrous creatures trapped since the time of the gods.

In the west, entire cities blinked out of existence, swallowed by unseen forces, as if history itself had abandoned them.

In the east, the sun dimmed, casting the land into eternal twilight, where shadows moved with minds of their own.

And in the south, the oceans churned, revealing structures that had no place in mortal reality—temples that bled, doors that led to nowhere and everywhere at once.

The world itself was being rewritten.

And in the heart of it all, standing atop the remains of a shattered battlefield, was Khaelos.

The Forgotten King.

His eyes, black voids of infinite depth, surveyed the land before him. His once-dead heart beat again, and with each pulse, reality around him bent in submission.

The world had erased him once.

But now?

He would erase the world.

Unless someone stopped him.

---

The Sovereign's Decision

Rheon rose from his throne, the very air trembling around him.

For too long, he had allowed the Forgotten Ones to move unchecked, waiting in the shadows, testing his patience.

That patience had run out.

With a single step, he vanished.

And in the next instant, he appeared on the battlefield, standing across from Khaelos.

The two titans locked eyes.

No words were exchanged.

There was no need.

The Forgotten King sought to reclaim what had been stolen from him.

The Sovereign of Eternity sought to crush all who opposed him.

Their battle would decide the fate of all existence.

And as the earth itself split beneath their feet, as the heavens roared in protest, one thing became certain:

Only one of them would walk away from this battle.

And Rheon had no intention of losing.