The city of Elandor was thriving.
Laughter echoed through its alleys. Vendors sang out prices for Essence-infused wares. Children sparred with wooden blades, pretending to be adventurers of the Dominion. The threat of the Varnok felt like a distant memory — just another war won by the bravery of guilds and champions.
But not everyone was so easily comforted.
Beneath the western cliffside where the Worldflame Spire's glow reached only as a faint shimmer, Kael stood in the center of his concealed training dome — an Elemental Sphere of his own making, dense with overlapping Essences, sealed from all external detection.
Here, reality twisted.
Here, gods were born.
God Essence: Multiplicity.
Twenty of them.
Twenty Kaels stood before him — each a pure, elemental avatar of one affinity. Flame, Lightning, Storm, or Kinetic — five of each, pulsing with raw power and glowing battle instinct.
Each had 80% of his current speed, reflex, and force. And not one of them hesitated.
The first bolt of lightning erupted behind him — Kael spun low, ducking a kinetic punch and flaring back with a backhand laced in storm.
He struck one Echo — only for two more to crash down from above in coordinated arcs. His body twisted, Storm Vault Execution chaining through a clone mid-air, rebounding into a spin-kick that scattered three into the dome's edge.
One Flame Kael launched Scorchbreak Drive, and Kael met it with Breakforce, the air between them detonating in a dome-scorching wave.
His control was no longer human.
No longer Origin.
He moved like thought.
He anticipated every movement — not just because they were his own techniques, but because his mind had evolved beyond singular combat. He could think like many. He was adapting at rates no battlefield commander could match.
Ten of the Echoes coordinated in a pinwheel formation, boxing him in with overlapping zones of pressure and suppression. They'd learned from the first wave.
He didn't blink.
Instead, Kael launched Phantom Launch, rebounding from one Echo's shoulder, twisted mid-air, and collapsed his entire weight through a downward Storm Vault Execution. It tore through five Echoes in a single jagged bolt of fury.
Another three detonated on command — Sacrifice Burst — elemental storms blooming in fire, lightning, and gravity.
Kael emerged from the smoke, cape shredded, chest heaving.
Only two Echoes remained.
One struck high. The other low.
Kael blurred forward — slipped past both — and brought down twin fists wrapped in blazing kinetic spirals.
The last two shattered into whirling motes of Essence.
Silence returned.
Kael stood alone, body humming with exertion and triumph.
He had done it. Twenty.
Not barely.
Effortlessly.
His thoughts were expanding in every direction, like his very existence was stretching to hold something greater. Something not meant for mortals. Something beyond Origin.
Later that day, the city gathered near the central plaza. The guild banners fluttered proudly, and high-ranking members of every faction stood at attention.
Arkzen arrived like a returning legend, his robe unmarked, his gait flawless, his golden hair catching the sun.
People cheered.
Some cried.
He gave speeches of resilience, praised the youth, honored the fallen. His words were perfect. The children called him "The Last Light." Guildmasters bowed to him.
Leiya stood at Kael's side, smiling softly.
But Kael didn't hear the words.
He didn't see the ceremony.
He only saw Arkzen.
And with every breath he took, every flicker of light that glinted off the man's eyes…
Kael saw more.
A crumbling world.
Arkzen surrounded by corpses.
His calm voice whispering lies to a crowd on their knees.
The Sovereign's shadow behind him.
A hundred timelines.
A thousand betrayals.
Kael's head throbbed.
His breath caught.
The ground beneath him twisted — not truly, but in his mind, in his spirit.
And then…
Arkzen turned.
Their eyes met.
Time slowed.
And Kael saw everything.
His mouth opened. Not loudly. Not with defiance.
But with clarity.
A whisper spoken into the bones of reality.
"I know what you are."
Arkzen froze.
His smile faltered.
His eyes — ageless, cold, inhuman — widened for the first time in centuries.
And the world… shuddered.