Chapter 22 : The First Fracture 4

I exhaled slowly, feeling the last threads of my wards settle into place, weaving around the empire like an invisible cage. But the moment of calm was fragile—too fragile.

They needed to know.

The goddesses.

They were more than guardians or servants; they were extensions of my will, my power's facets. Each of them felt the empire's pulse differently, and now, they must feel its fracture.

But I was not afraid.

I already knew who they were.

These watchers, these shadows beyond the veil—I had once shared a connection with them. Long ago, before I forged this empire, before I built this dimension, I glimpsed their existence, brushed against their incomprehensible will. They were primordial, merciless, and utterly indifferent. They were not enemies. Not yet. Merely forces beyond my domain.

I possessed the power to erase them—obliterate them without trace or consequence. The force of my being could consume their essence, shatter their nothingness.

But I chose not to.

Because destruction breeds emptiness, and I had no desire to fill that void.

Because I do not kill what I do not wish to engage.

Because indifference is far more powerful than rage.

So, instead, I chose another path.

I chose the goddesses.

They would be my shields, my eyes, my sword and flame.

The burden of constant vigilance, of ceaseless battle against forces I neither feared nor cared to confront, was too much. Too tedious.

I was too lazy.

The empire was vast, infinite in its complexities. I had no motive to fight endlessly, no hunger for war. I wanted control, order—and to leave the rest to those who longed for power, for purpose.

Kaelira, Selphira, Nyxara, Luneth, and Virelya—each was a fragment of myself, a facet of my will shaped to protect what I created.

I reached out, mentally touching the core of each goddess's chamber—Kaelira's burning forge, Selphira's timeless void, Nyxara's shifting illusions, Luneth's endless libraries, and Virelya's living garden. The connections sparked, rippling through the dimensions.

Awaken.

A silent call. Not of alarm, but of readiness.

They would sense it immediately—the threat lurking beneath the surface of my realm, the warning encoded in the sigil now guarding every corner.

I didn't want to frighten them. Fear was a weakness I could not afford, either in myself or in them.

Kaelira would respond with fire—anger, aggression, a wildfire ready to consume threats. She needed to channel that, but also to temper it.

Selphira, with her unyielding grasp on time, would seek the patterns—try to anticipate the enemy's next move before they made it.

Nyxara would dance in shadows and misdirection, creating illusions to trap and confuse.

Luneth would gather knowledge, sifting through relics and ancient data to uncover the identity and origin of those who dared to breach.

And Virelya—her compassion and life-giving power would protect what was living and fragile within the empire.

I couldn't protect everything alone. Their strength, combined with mine, was the only hope.

But I must keep them from knowing too much.

Too much fear would break their loyalty.

I sent the first thread of my will to Kaelira's chamber.

Prepare. Hunt.

A flame erupted, burning brighter than before.

Then to Selphira.

Watch. Bend time. Learn.

Her chamber shimmered with tension.

Nyxara's illusions thickened.

Luneth's scrolls whirled faster.

Virelya's vines tightened their embrace.

Each chamber pulsed in response—alert, ready.

I allowed myself a moment of cold satisfaction.

If they came again, they would not find weakness.

They would find fire and shadow, knowledge and life, time and fury.

But deep inside, a cold thought lingered.

This was just the beginning.

The veil between realms was thinning.

And whoever left the sigil was only the first.