The battlefield was painted in blood and fire. Cries of the fallen echoed beneath the storm-laden sky, and the scent of steel and death filled the air. At the center of it all stood a lone figure, his black armor streaked with crimson, his katana humming with the residual energy of those it had slain.
Ryojin Kurohane exhaled slowly, his violet eyes scanning the battlefield. The war between the Celestial Order and the Abyssal Clans had reached its climax, and he stood at the heart of it, neither fully aligned with gods nor monsters. His only loyalty had ever been to the truth—something the world seemed desperate to erase.
"Ryojin...he.. betrayed..us" a voice rasped from behind him. He turned, finding one of his fallen comrades reaching toward him, his fingers trembling.
He stepped forward, intending to offer mercy, but before he could, a golden spear tore through the dying warrior’s chest. The light consumed him in an instant, leaving behind nothing but scorched earth.
Ryojin's grip on his katana tightened.
A figure clad in celestial silver armor approached, stepping through the flames as if untouched by the chaos around him. A golden halo flickered above his head, his wings spread wide, radiating divine energy.
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"Seraphiel," Ryojin muttered.
The High Commander of the Celestial Order. The very embodiment of divine justice—or so he claimed to be.
"You fought well, Kurohane," Seraphiel said, his voice carrying a weight that made even the most hardened warriors falter. "But it is time for this war to end. The gods have decreed your fate, your tendency to draw power from the Nexus Abyss was seen as unclean by the gods."
Ryojin lifted his katana, its black edge gleaming with abyssal energy. "Decreed? I don’t recall bending my knee to any god."
Seraphiel sighed, as if speaking to a misguided child. "Then you leave us no choice."
With a motion too swift for mortal eyes to follow, the celestial general raised his spear. Golden chains erupted from the ground, slithering like serpents, coiling around Ryojin’s limbs before he could react.
Pain shot through his body as divine seals burned into his skin, suppressing his power. His muscles tensed, resisting, but the chains grew heavier, pulling him down.
The battlefield faded. The sounds of war became distant echoes.
Above him, the sky cracked open, revealing a void deeper than the night itself. A force unlike anything he had felt before wrapped around him, colder than death.
"You were always too dangerous, Ryojin," Seraphiel said, his voice tinged with something almost like regret. "For the sake of balance, you must be cast into the Abyss."
Ryojin struggled, rage boiling within him, but it was too late. The void pulled him in, swallowing him whole.
The last thing he saw was Seraphiel turning away, his wings folding as he disappeared into the storm.
Then, there was nothing.
Only darkness.
Only the Abyss.