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Chapter 0: Prologue
Date Published: December 4th, 2014
Upon this world lies a war for the heavens, a war for the gods. The gods have been leaderless for 200 years. When the last King of the gods perished, he left a will upon his brethren. As he lay dying, he used his last remaining life force to cast a divine declaration, a decree that must be followed by all. At the cost of his life, the King of the Gods gave out a final order throughout the heavens where Death awaited the ones who dare deny the his words. The King said "I, Versaia, King of the gods, hereby announce this decree upon the heavens! The One who unites the world shall have the right to sit on the throne and rule upon All."
As if to amend his declaration, the skies shook and light upon the stars rained down upon the king. His very existence started to fade, his body dissolving into small particles of light that slowly descended to the world below. Ironic as it was, when a god from the heavens dies, his soul goes back to the mortal realm where they have ascended from.
Alveron, the King's eldest son, didn't grieve over his father's death. Instead, he was furious; he had not been named the next ruler, when he should have been entitled to, by default. Though the day had finally come when he should have taken his father's place at the throne, the King decided to make that ridiculous declaration at the very last moments of his life. Alveron may have proven himself an astounding leader, and his strength was the greatest among the gods, but his violence and arrogance equaled it. In the King's eyes, this left room for doubt. The last decree was inevitable.
Alveron questioned its legitimacy. In a fit of rage and hate, he brushed aside the court advisors and climbed the throne, ignoring the cries of warning. No one could stop the foolish god in his tracks. Sitting on the throne, he loudly declared himself the new ruler-- he, the eldest of Versaia's sons. With a smirk, he finished with the words, "I have the right. Not even the heavens can take it away from me."
As if hearing his words, the skies darkened and the stars' light dimmed to a dark luster, enveloped by a red aura. Their radiance shone upon the throne where Alveron sat, swallowed him. His cries of agony filled the air as his soul was forcefully pulled from his body. Particles of light escaped him as this happened, the heavens shaking with the force of the power that had crushed his presence. Alveron's soul was cast into the mortal realm as well.
King Versaia's last decree held true.
The hall that had fallen silent, started to rise in whispers. They have witnessed the truth in the last King's words, and understood: the next king will be the one who united the world. Among them, the Goddess of War, Xepheria, rallied her generals together. "Prepare our followers! Ready the armies! We have a World to conquer!"
The Gods began to make their own preparations as well. Depending on how events will unfold, the World now faced two different outcomes: Peace and Unity, or Death and Destruction.