Chapter 6: The Court of Heaven Trembles

Above the stars, beyond the reach of mortal sight, the Celestial Court stood timeless and vast. Floating islands of golden stone circled a radiant throne, each bearing the symbol of a god. Rivers of light wove between them, carrying the prayers and sacrifices of countless worlds.

But today, the court was silent.

And silence in heaven was a terrible thing.

In the center stood the Throne of Solinar, god of light and judgment. His form was a sun wrapped in armor—his face masked by flame, his voice like falling hammers.

Before him, knelt Serai Dawnbreaker, her armor cracked and stained with abyssal black.

"He consumed it," she said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes wavered. "My light. My wing. My power. He devoured it, and he adapted."

Whispers spread across the divine assembly.

Theralos, god of oceans, clenched his coral-staff with trembling fingers. "It cannot be. We killed them. I ended the Abyssal Lineage with my own hand."

Veyra, goddess of time, narrowed her silver eyes. "You ended the bodies, brother. Not the will."

Serai looked up, rage in her voice. "He has a System. A surviving one."

Gasps broke out.

Even gods flinched at that word.

The System—a cursed relic from the First War, created by the Primordials to break divine authority. It had no allegiance. No morality. It rewarded growth through struggle, devouring the rules of reality with every level gained.

It was banned from all creation.

If a Leviathan had it… no, if the last Leviathan had it…

Solinar finally spoke.

"Show me."

Serai raised her spear. A shard of memory glowed within the blade. The court fell into silence again as divine minds watched the replay—of fangs tearing into holy wings, of divine essence being devoured, of evolution in real-time.

When it ended, the spear dimmed. And none of the gods spoke.

Not even Solinar.

At last, Yssira, goddess of secrets, whispered from her shadowed throne. "The Throne Echo responded to him."

The words chilled the court.

"That means the prophecy…" Theralos said, dread rising in his voice.

Yssira nodded. "Yes. The Crown of the Deep is awakening. He is more than a survivor. He is a candidate."

The oldest god among them, Aurenox the Forge-Father, finally stirred from his stony silence. His voice was rust and fire. "Then we act now. Before he reaches the surface. Before the stars learn to fear the sea again."

"But how?" Veyra said. "A champion failed. A Seraph, no less."

"We do not send another champion," Solinar growled. "We send a god."

The court went still again.

Even Serai looked up in alarm. "You would break the Accord?"

The Accord of Realms—divine law that barred direct interference in the mortal plane. If broken, it would reignite the Heavenfall War.

But Solinar stood, and the sun behind him screamed.

"Let war come."

And far below, in the trench where silence ruled, the Leviathan stirred once more. He had seen her light. Felt the power. And tasted it.

And now he hungered not just for growth…

…but for vengeance.