Chapter 1: The Awakening
The sky was burning.
Black lightning tore through the heavens like claws ripping open reality itself. Mountains crumbled into dust. Oceans boiled. The air screamed as magic collapsed under unbearable pressure.
At the center of the devastation stood a single figure.
He floated above the shattered world, wrapped in living darkness that pulsed like a beating heart. His eyes held no light—only endless void. No anger. No fear. Only inevitability.
He was the one the gods feared.
He was the Sorcerer of Chaos.
"Enough."
A voice thundered across existence.
Light exploded from the heavens—pure, blinding, divine. Thousands of radiant figures descended, their presence alone stabilizing the breaking world.
Gods.
They surrounded him from every direction.
"You unravel creation itself," one declared. "This ends now."
The Sorcerer smiled faintly.
Creation?
He remembered when nothing existed to be created.
"I existed before your heavens were born," he said calmly. "Before time learned to move. Before matter learned to exist."
Darkness thickened around him, swallowing light.
"I am not destroying the world… I am returning it to truth."
The gods attacked.
Blades of divine fire fell like meteors. Spears of condensed starlight shattered the sky. Seals forged from the laws of reality descended to bind him.
But chaos devoured everything.
Light twisted into darkness. Magic decayed into nothingness. Even divine power rotted the moment it touched him.
For a moment…
It seemed the Sorcerer would win.
Then the gods did what they had never done before.
They united their authority.
Heaven itself descended.
A colossal seal formed—not magic, not matter, but absolute command over existence. The right to decide what may exist… and what must not.
The Sorcerer's expression changed for the first time.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"…So you choose erasure," he murmured.
The seal fell.
Reality froze.
Chaos screamed.
And for the first time since the beginning of existence…
The Sorcerer of Chaos and Ruin was defeated.
His body disintegrated.
His power shattered.
His name was erased from history.
And his soul… was sealed beyond time.
---
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.
For an immeasurable eternity, there was no thought, no sensation, no self. Only endless stillness.
Then—
A pulse.
A crack in the void.
A whisper.
"…Master…"
Another pulse.
"…Awaken…"
Awareness returned like shattered glass reforming.
Pain.
Cold.
Weight.
Breath.
He gasped.
Air flooded his lungs violently. His heart pounded. His chest burned.
He opened his eyes.
A wooden ceiling.
Rough. Cracked. Mortal.
He lay on a thin bed inside a small, dim room. Dust filled the air. Weak sunlight slipped through a broken window.
His body felt… wrong.
Heavy. Fragile. Limited.
He slowly raised his hand.
Small.
Human.
Mortal.
Foreign memories rushed into his mind—a frail boy, sickly, abandoned, insignificant. A life so small it barely left a mark on the world.
His lips curled slightly.
"…Rebirth."
The gods had destroyed him.
But they had failed to erase him completely.
Deep within his soul, something pulsed—faint… but alive.
Chaos.
Then a voice echoed inside his mind.
"Chaos recognizes its master."
The air trembled.
Dust lifted from the floor. Shadows stretched unnaturally. The temperature dropped.
"Seal integrity: 99.999%."
His eyes narrowed.
Almost completely sealed.
"Power level: negligible."
He tried to move chaos through his body.
Agony exploded through his veins.
His mortal flesh could not contain even a fragment of primordial power. The energy collapsed instantly, leaving him gasping.
Weak.
Powerless.
Human.
Silence filled the room.
Then… he smiled.
A slow, terrifying smile.
"Good," he whispered.
Because weakness meant time.
And time meant opportunity.
He stood unsteadily. The world felt dense and slow, like moving through chains.
But deep inside…
Chaos stirred.
Patient.
Hungry.
Waiting.
He walked to the broken window and looked outside.
A small village. Ordinary people living fragile lives, unaware that existence itself was temporary.
He placed his hand against the glass.
Cracks spread slowly outward—not from force… but decay.
Entropy.
The fundamental law of chaos.
"This world still exists…" he whispered.
"therefore my work is unfinished."
The wind howled.
Clouds darkened.
Somewhere far away, something ancient trembled—sensing a presence long believed erased.
The Sorcerer of Chaos and Ruin had returned.
And this time…
He would not wage war against the gods.
He would dismantle existence itself.
Piece by piece.