Heaven Should Be Afraid

[Holy Temple...]

The sacred halls of the Holy Temple were silent.

Too silent.

Sunlight poured in through stained-glass windows, casting halos of crimson and gold across the gleaming white marble floors. The divine light made everything shimmer with false purity.

High Priest Caldric stood at the altar—tall, draped in ceremonial robes embroidered with suns, wings, and ancient script. His hands were folded in front of him, jeweled rings glittering like temptation itself. His eyes were closed.

But this was no prayer.

There was no peace in that stillness.

Only calculation. Something was wrong. Off. Shifting beneath the surface.

Not in the heavens.

But in the earth.

In the heartbeat of the temple walls.

"A storm…" he thought, brows tightening ever so slightly. "A storm is coming."

And it wasn't divine.

It was wrath.

Raw. Feral. Furious.