Fall of the Sky

The first rays of dawn struggled to pierce the spire of the Eternal Throne, casting golden light upon the celestial fortress suspended three thousand feet above the imperial capital. This majestic granite fortress still silently overlooked the world, but its hard outer walls were scarred by scorch marks from fifty years ago—permanent scars from the Void War, never erased by time.

I stood on the terrace atop the fortress, the cold wind seeping into my robes. Fifty years had passed like sand, and looking down at the brightly lit imperial capital below, I felt only a suffocating sense of alienation. My black hair had long since turned gray, the scar on my face stretching from my forehead to my jawline appeared menacing in the shadows, and my right eye, enhanced by psionic energy, emitted a sickly amber light through its pupil.

My thoughts involuntarily drifted back fifty years—to that blood-soaked day. A dark gate to the Void had been torn open above the Eternal Throne plaza, and countless Voidwalkers surged in like a tide. Emperor Alfred died in that battle. In the embers of despair, I single-handedly pushed the Void Queen back into the rift and exhausted my life's energy to seal the gate to destruction. Back then, the entire empire called me the "Iron Savior."

But now?

A magical mirror is broadcasting live throughout the capital, a spectacle of "The Dawn of the God of War." In the mirror, I wear a luxurious robe embroidered with gold thread, a twelve-course breakfast laid out on a silver platter before me, servants bowing as they attend to my seemingly insatiable indulgence. The comments section is filled with a barrage of arrows: "He ate the entire district's food rations by himself."

I disgustedly shut down the mirror, pushed aside the cold delicacies, and picked up the glass of grayish-black liquid on the table—the Elixir of Souls. My palms trembled uncontrollably. I drank it all in one gulp, the piercing chill flowing down my throat, and the veins on my forehead slowly subsided.

"My lord's condition... is getting worse," Aldrick, the veteran who had followed me for forty years, said in a low voice.

"The nectar is diluted again today." I put down the cup, staring at the dark residue at the bottom. "Only sixty percent concentrated, Aldrick."

He lowered his head, his voice hoarse: "The Queen has cut the Nightmare Moss quota for three consecutive months under the pretext of 'austerity orders.' That moss only grows on the edge of the abyss rifts, and due to the extremely high risk, the Queen has transferred all the collection teams to carry out the 'Twelve Icons' training program."

I didn't speak, my gaze turning north. In the direction of that Graystone Ridge, my wife was buried. Elena, I murmured her name, feeling my soul withering away in this desolate fortress high in the sky. "I can't hold on much longer."

Meanwhile, the Eternal Throne Square was bustling with people. Through the magical mirror, I saw tens of thousands of citizens gathered beneath the thirty-foot-tall pure white marble statue of the late Emperor Alfred. A young speaker waved his arms, his eyes filled with a fanaticism and hatred I'd never seen before: "Fifty years! He's still sucking blood up there! We want work, we want bread, not the God of War!"

I stared at the young man, a chilling absurdity creeping into my heart. That face… I remembered it. Fifty years ago, during the Void invasion, I had snatched that infant from its claws. Now he was forty-nine, yet he was calling on the world to push me into the abyss.

"Where's Selena?" I turned to ask Aldrick.

He was silent for a long time before answering in a low voice, "General, she's in the Queen's palace. Today… she was awarded the 'Shield of the Empire' medal."

I closed my eyes helplessly. That medal… it was the one I wore myself back then, now that man had turned it into a knife to stab me.

As night deepened, the nightmare arrived as expected. In my dream, the twisted figure of the Void Succubus entwined around me, whispering in my ear, her voice like icy insects piercing my heart: "Your spiritual power is crumbling... Soon, you will become one of us."

I awoke with a start, drenched in sweat. My fingers groped behind me for the potion station, but touched only an empty base. That was the last drop of the elixir. I looked at my fingertips; a faint gray line appeared there.

The night was deep. I sat in the darkness, awaiting the Queen's indefinitely delayed approval.