THE SKIES were burning.

  Divine spears of lightning and fire rained down upon the earth, splitting the clouds. With each strike, the very foundations of the world shook. Roars of Titans broke the air, their massive forms engulfed in flames and ice, as they clashed against the might of the Gods.

  The Titanomachy. The ultimate war that would decide the fate of all creation.

  Entire mountains crumbled beneath the fighters’ footsteps. The seas boiled away under the heat of their fury. The Gods on one side, radiant and proud, wielded thunderbolts and celestial blades, while the Titans, on the other, primordial and unyielding, tore through the heavens with raw power.

  Amongst them, Hyperion, he who goes above, one of the four pillars of the world holding the heavens from the East. His body blazed with an unbearable radiance, clothed in a garment of woven light that shimmered and fluttered as if stirred by cosmic winds. From beneath his golden helm, his eyes pierced the battlefield with a gaze that saw all, casting rays that outshone the morning, illuminating the arrogance and defiance of his kind. Bright locks streamed from his temples, framing a face that was itself a sun, and where he stepped, the shadows fled. He raised and swung his colossal sword, made out of the purest form of fiery light, burning and cleaving through divine warriors and Gods alike, as if they were mere insects.

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  “You dare challenge me?” He roared with fury towards the skies.

  The corner of his eye caught the strangest of all things. A lone figure, standing amidst the scorched ruins of the battlefield.

  A mortal?

  No… something else.

  There was a presence that did not belong. A flicker of fate misplaced. Hyperion’s gaze locked onto the boy, and for a brief moment, the chaos of war a distant dream.

  His eyes opened wide, shaken with surprise.

  “You…” Almost a whisper, as words failed to form.

  The boy could only stare, his mind refusing the impossibility before him. He stood in the midst of a divine apocalypse, frozen, as the heat of battle chilled his bones. Before he could speak, before he could even think …

  “You should not be here!” Hyperion stepped back in fear, his voice the rumble of an earthquake.

  “I thought …” His voice faded as he lowered his gaze at his sword. He nodded to himself and took a deep breath. He knew what had to be done, so, he moved swiftly and decisively.

  The sword descended, joined by the Titan’s anguished roar, to annihilate the threat. The air itself screamed as the blade tore through space, aimed directly at the boy.

  There was no time to dodge.

  No time to scream.

  Only, Darkness.

  NEXT CHAPTER:

  The Dream Fades