The Holy Citadel shuddered like a wounded beast.
Cracks webbed across its golden walls as Arhaan's chains tore through ancient laws that had held Heaven together since the First Dawn.
The Arbiter staggered backward, shielding his face from the shockwave.
"You dare tear apart the order of existence?" he spat.
Arhaan stepped through the swirling light, the Oathbreaker humming with a voice that did not belong to any blade.
"I'm not tearing order apart," he said.
"I'm restoring the truth you buried."
The Arbiter's face twisted.
"Then hear the truth, heretic!"
He slammed his staff into the floor.
A rift opened — not of light, but of memory.
Images spiraled around Arhaan like a storm:
A temple of stars…
A cradle of flame…
A child wrapped in divine fire…
And beside him — a shadow.
A presence of unimaginable power.
Not the Arbiter.
Not Azrakar.
Someone older.
"Look at what you are," the Arbiter hissed. "Look at what you were MADE to be!"
---
THE TRUTH OF HIS BIRTH
The vision sharpened.
Arhaan saw himself — an infant glowing with pure white fire.
Not born.
Not blessed.
Forged.
Forged in the remnants of the First Singer's power.
Held in the hands of a shining figure whose face was hidden in shadow.
Not a god.
Not an angel.
Something beyond divinity.
The Arbiter's voice boomed:
"You were created as a vessel — nothing more! A container for the Song of Creation, forged by the remnants of the First Choir before I silenced them."
The world around Arhaan flickered as the revelation hit him.
"I'm… not human?"
The Arbiter smiled cruelly.
"You are a weapon wearing a mortal's flesh! A melody wrapped in a lie!"
Arhaan's chains shuddered.
His breath grew unsteady.
Kael watched from across the chamber, eyes wide with horror.
"No," Kael whispered. "That's not who he is. That's not what he is!"
The Arbiter raised his staff triumphantly.
"Your entire existence is a mistake — a threat to creation itself. This war? This rebellion? It's nothing but the destiny you were forced into!"
Arhaan fell to one knee, clutching his chest as memories — false or real, he couldn't tell — spun around him.
A forged vessel.
A pawn of the First Choir.
A lie in the shape of a man.
The chains around him trembled.
Cracked.
His light dimmed.
---
THE MOMENT OF DESPAIR
The Arbiter stepped forward, towering over him like a shadow blotting out the sun.
"You were never meant to choose."
He pointed his staff at Arhaan's head.
"You were meant to be silenced."
The Divine Annihilator stirred behind him, raising its colossal blade for the killing blow.
Kael screamed, "ARHAAN—!"
But before the blade could fall—
A single note rang out.
Soft.
Bright.
Pure.
A echo of the First Singer's song.
Arhaan raised his head slowly, eyes glowing with white fire.
"No…" he said, voice shaking.
"My birth doesn't define my choices."
He stood.
Light poured from his wounds, his eyes, his heart.
"I wasn't forged to be a vessel."
He raised the Oathbreaker.
Crimson and white flames spiraled up the blade.
"I became myself."
The Arbiter's eyes widened.
"No… impossible—!"
Arhaan's voice thundered, shaking the Citadel:
"I CHOOSE MY OWN SONG!"
He swung the Oathbreaker.
The melody exploded outward in a wave of creation-light.
The Divine Annihilator staggered backward.
The Arbiter was thrown across the chamber, his staff shattering.
The very walls of Heaven resonated — not with law, not with silence, but with Arhaan's song.