"Boom-boom!" The deafening sound of relentless impacts echoed from outside.
Koishi Root lay slumped on the ground, his expression panicked and his stone body trembling.
After a few moments, he attempted to rise, but without his arms, he struggled to push himself up. It took immense effort, and only after several attempts did he manage to stand.
Staggering forward, Shilut made his way to where Rowe sat.
Luo Wei was still unconscious, seated on a massive stone chair at the heart of the chamber. A thin layer of crimson amber encased him like a cocoon, glinting ominously in the dim light.
"Buzz…" The Little Stone Man leaned beside Rowe's stone chair. He lowered his head, sobbing softly, his face etched with sorrow and a deep sense of injustice.
"Boom-boom!" The Kronans continued their assault outside.
Due to their enormous size and brute strength, the Kronans wielded heavy blunt weapons like maces and massive hammers—ideal for smashing through thick barriers.
More than a dozen Kronan warriors stood in formation before the stone house, each taking turns to swing their colossal weapons. Though Shilut's stone barrier was solid and thick, it quickly began to crack under the repeated blows, with chunks of rock flying in every direction.
"Lord Chief, are you truly convinced this child is the legendary ancestor of the Kronan?" one of the elder Kronans muttered, peering warily at the blockade. "To be honest, the way he throws rocks doesn't exactly match our ancient tales…"
"Does that matter?" the Kronan Chief replied without hesitation. "He doesn't need to be the true originator. He just needs to resemble the Kronan of legend enough. With him, we can rally the scattered tribes of Warnerheim. Properly leveraged, this child could unify the Kronans and even bring peace to our fractured homeworld, Rhea."
The old Kronan warrior fell silent, his face heavy with thought. "The infighting among our people has indeed gone on far too long…"
"Boom!"
The pounding continued from dusk into the night. Stars filled the sky over Warnerheim as the final bits of daylight disappeared behind the mountains.
Finally, under the relentless assault of the dozen warriors, the outer defenses of the stone house began to crumble.
"Step aside. I'll finish this!" Chief Kronan bellowed, stepping forward with his colossal mace in hand. With a roar, he swung it down in a devastating arc.
"Boom!"
The final barrier shattered with a thunderous crash, revealing a jagged corridor that led into the heart of the structure.
"Where are they?"
The Kronan warriors charged inside, fanning out through the empty chambers. But Shilut was nowhere in sight, and the air felt unnaturally still.
"Chief!" someone called urgently.
The Kronan leader rushed toward the voice and froze in shock as he entered a spacious room.
Rows of shelves lined the walls, covered in dust and filled with glass containers, vials, and intricate apparatuses. It was a pharmaceutical lab—advanced and highly organized.
"A pharmacy?" the elder Kronan stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "These tools... they're not of our make. This is Asgardian technology—or perhaps even Eirian craftsmanship."
The Protoss influence was unmistakable. While brute strength defined the Kronan race, their civilization lacked the sophistication required for pharmacological science. Only the higher races, like the Aesir or the Vanir, possessed the knowledge to construct such refined equipment.
"These haven't been touched in ages," Chief Kronan said, brushing his stone fingers across a workbench and collecting a thick coat of dust.
"Pack these tools," he ordered. "Take them back to the village. They may prove valuable."
"Yes, sir!"
Several Kronans moved forward to obey. But lacking the finesse needed to handle the delicate instruments, they carelessly gathered the equipment, cracking or breaking many of the tools in the process without realizing it.
After looting the lab, the Kronans continued their search. Eventually, they came upon an oddly shaped wall—clearly a concealed passage.
"This looks like a sealed door," the old warrior noted. "Break it down."
"Boom!"
With a single mighty blow, the makeshift door was shattered.
Behind it stood Shilut.
He attempted to mount a defense, opening his mouth to release a wave of mud and rock. But his energy was depleted. The stream of earth was thin and weak, trickling down like dirty water. It splattered onto the Kronan warriors, staining them but causing no real damage.
Chief Kronan scowled and reached forward to seize Shilut. But as he did, his eyes widened.
There, beside Shilut, was a massive stone throne.
And seated upon it was a young man—blond-haired, motionless, and encased entirely in blood-red crystal.
The amber-like substance shimmered eerily, sealing the youth in a state between life and death. His eyes were closed, and his body showed no signs of movement.
Still, the Little Stone Man stood firmly before him, arms gone but stance defiant, his gaze daring anyone to approach.
"This…" the old Kronan's voice trembled. "Chief… I have a very bad feeling…"
"Is he… a Protoss?" one of the warriors muttered.
"No," the elder murmured. "This aura… it's something more. Something ancient. Something divine."
"Chief, we need to leave. Now."
Chief Kronan said nothing for a moment, his grip on Shilut tightening. But then he nodded, his tone grim. "Withdraw."
"Buzz! Buzz!"
Though weakened, Shilut fought back with everything he had—twisting, squirming, even biting into the Chief's stone arm.
"Argh!" Chief Kronan roared, staggering back as Shilut's teeth sank deep into his rocky flesh. Despite being made of stone, the bite drew fragments and sparks.
"Little beast!" the chief snarled, slapping Shilut across the face in frustration.
"Let go of that child."
A cold, commanding voice rang out, slicing through the tension like a blade.
It was low, filled with fury, and laced with something even more unsettling—divine authority.
Though the voice was icy, the temperature in the chamber spiked suddenly. In seconds, the chilly night air transformed into the oppressive heat of a blazing summer.
Then, even hotter—an inferno.
The Kronans froze. Slowly, they turned toward the source.
The blond youth.
His eyes had opened.
Behind the translucent crimson crystal, twin golden irises glowed with unyielding rage. The blood-colored amber trembled.
"Crack…knock…"
Hairline fractures webbed across the crystal shell, racing in all directions until the entire structure was covered in a network of glowing cracks.
Panic spread among the Kronan warriors.
Shilut's eyes lit up with hope, kicking frantically as if to cheer him on.
"Boom!" The amber exploded in a flash of blinding light and heat.
Fire burst out from the stone throne, engulfing the entire room in golden flames. Heatwaves rolled outward, scorching everything in their path.
The young man—Luo Wei—sat upright, bathed in light and fire. Holy flames danced around his body, and radiant energy crackled from his limbs. The stone throne beneath him glowed like molten rock.
He didn't move.
He didn't need to.
His presence alone was overwhelming.
"You… who are you?" the elder Kronan whispered, his voice quivering in fear.
Luo Wei rose slowly, flames swirling around him like a cloak. The golden glow radiated from his skin, mingling with the sacred fire, painting his features with celestial majesty.
And then he spoke, his voice echoing with divine power and solemn grandeur:
"I am… the Sun God."
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