The Choice of Both

Zion stood before the twin doors of the Crossroad, heavy with the weight of destiny.

One door shimmered with radiant light—the realm of gods, promise, and order.

The other pulsed with shadow and fire—the domain of demons, chaos, and raw power.

Time slowed.

The Crossroad held its breath.

And then Zion stepped forward, not toward one door—but toward both.

With steady voice, he declared:

"I choose neither light nor shadow alone.

I choose both.

To wield their power, to bear their burden—

To become the bridge between gods and demons,

And forge a new way forward."

The doors trembled, their ancient magic quivering with surprise.

The Crossroad itself shuddered—never before had one dared claim both paths.

From the divine door, a radiant sigil flared.

From the demonic door, a dark mark pulsed in answer.

Both sigils merged onto Zion's skin—burning, searing, yet awakening something ancient and unseen.

The balance was broken—and remade.

Zion was no longer just a mortal, nor merely a god or demon.

He had become something new.

The Crossroad whispered in awe and fear.

A storm was coming—not born of destruction, but of union