The Decree of War

Zion stood before the twin flames that marked the convergence of realms—light and shadow, divine and infernal. He carried no weapon. He needed none.

His voice was the command. His presence the decree.

"From this day forward," he said, "no god and no demon may remain neutral.

The Hive devours all.

You will rise. You will fight.

Or you will perish with the worlds you ignore."

The skies of Bassoon trembled—not from magic, but from expectation. The choice was gone. Only purpose remained.

All gods. All demons. All chosen. All marked.

All would march.

🛡️ A Ripple Through the Pantheons

Far beyond Bassoon, in realms older than language, in halls of gold and in pits of ice, the other pantheons stirred.

They watched. They whispered. Some laughed. Some clenched their thrones.

But all remembered.

A time when they, too, walked with mortals.

A time when they tried to walk beside demons—not above them.

A time when they, too, hoped to make peace between creation's two halves.

Before betrayal.

Before failure.

Before silence.

Some gods turned away, unwilling to face the ghosts of what could have been.

Others leaned closer to the veil—curious, hopeful, or afraid.

🌌 The War to Come

The Hive had not yet moved. But it felt the shift.

It felt the tremor in the crossroads.

The unification of Ginen and Bassoon.

The laws.

The choices.

The decree.

The Hive knew war was no longer coming.

It had already begun