The sky was the same as always—vast, unchanging, and indifferent.

It stretched endlessly above a world that had long since surrendered to despair. Beneath its gaze, the village of Othryn wilted like a dying ember, its people mere ghosts moving between crumbling huts and barren fields. There was no future here, only the slow passage of time as hunger gnawed at the bones of the weak.

No gods answered the starving. No miracles came to those who prayed.

And yet, the world was not lawless.

The gods—however distant—had shaped it, structured it. There was an order to things, a set of rules so absolute that even chaos itself bowed in submission. No one knew how long this order had existed, only that at the center of everything stood a figure of unfathomable power. Some called it the One Above All, others simply the Supreme One—the being that had dictated the laws of existence itself.

Even the gods did not challenge it.

Because they could not.

It was not a hidden truth. It was an open reality—one that every being, from the lowest beggar to the highest deity, accepted as inevitable. The Supreme One made sure of that.

And it did so relentlessly.

At any moment, without warning, the words would come.

Aelric had seen it happen time and time again—villagers suddenly stopping mid-step, shivering as if struck by a phantom force. The elders would grip their chests, their breaths stolen, while even the strongest warriors of the village staggered, eyes wide with terror.

Because they all heard it.

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The Order is eternal.

It has never changed.

It will never change.

The words did not echo from the heavens, nor were they spoken aloud. They simply existed—imposing themselves into the minds of all living things, pressing down with an unseen weight that stole the will to resist.

Aelric clenched his fists.

He had experienced it many times before, but he refused to tremble like the others.

Even now, across the village, people were collapsing to their knees, whispering prayers, their spirits crushed anew. He had seen this in every land he traveled to. He had walked through cities where kings and priests dropped their heads in submission. He had seen monsters, spirits, even minor gods flinch under its force.

There was no escape from the Supreme One’s decree.

Even so, Aelric did not accept it.

His mother once told him that this was mercy—a gift from the Supreme One to remind them of their place.

But Aelric saw it for what it was.

Chains.

For years, he had wandered from land to land, gathering what little he could. He listened to myths, histories, and scriptures from different regions. He spoke to priests, merchants, criminals, and warlords. He searched through ruins, inscriptions, whispers of forgotten places.

But no matter how far he traveled, it was never enough.

The world was too vast.

The lands he had seen were only a fraction of its true scale. There were mysteries buried beneath the oceans, places hidden in the skies, realms beyond mortal reach, spirit worlds, and dimensions only whispered about in myths. There were places he was not aware of, places he could not yet reach—and perhaps places no one had ever truly seen.

And still, he found nothing.

No contradictions in doctrine. No records of rebellion. No evidence of a time before the Supreme One’s reign.

The world’s history was absolute—unchallenged, unwavering.

Even so, Aelric refused to believe it.

If the Supreme One had always existed, why did some gods seem to fear it?

If the Order was eternal, why did it need to be constantly reinforced?

If the world had always been this way, why did so many feel despair?

He had no answers.

Only theories.

Only doubts.

He was not a prophet. He was not a hero. He had no power, no divine blessing, no hidden knowledge.

He was simply a man who refused to stop thinking.

And that alone made him different.

Aelric had spent years collecting fragments of knowledge. Myths, whispers, contradictions in holy scriptures—pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.

There was something wrong with this world.

The gods were powerful, but even they did not understand the Supreme One. They ruled, yet they obeyed laws they had not written. The world was in chaos, yet order remained absolute.

And most chilling of all…

No records existed of a time before this order began.

It was as if history itself had been erased, rewritten, or worse—fabricated.

Aelric did not know the truth yet.

But he would.

And when that day came…

He would see the world for what it truly was.

(End Chapter 0.)