The sky cracked.
Not with thunder, but with light. Unnatural, searing—like reality itself had split open.
From the tear descended three figures, cloaked in white flame and wielding blades forged from pure celestial law. Their wings shimmered like prisms, yet their eyes held no warmth. These were no saviors.
They were the Angels of Fracture—beings born not to guard creation, but to unmake that which defied divine order.
---
Below, in the Tomb of Chains
Kael looked skyward. Though stone and darkness shielded him, he felt it. The pressure. The judgment.
"The gods didn't wait long," Aeron muttered, hands on his twin blades.
"They never do," Kael said grimly. He flexed the new gauntlet of shadows, the Sovereign's chain now fused with his essence. "They fear what I carry."
Nyra stepped forward, her spirit beasts circling in agitation. "Those aren't just enforcers. They're executioners."
"Let them come," Kael replied. "Let them see what they made."
---
Battle Over Broken Stone
The Angels descended like comets.
The first—Sol'Enari, Angel of Radiant Division—landed in a blast of light, reducing half the canyon wall to molten glass.
"Kael of the Abyss," she intoned, "You carry what should not exist. In the name of the Twelve, your thread ends now."
Kael stepped forward. "Then tear it yourself."
She moved—and the world blurred.
Aeron barely deflected the first strike, steel clashing with divine fire. Fenric was already gone, vanishing into the shadows behind her, striking from blind angles.
The second Angel—Tharex the Riftwaker—joined the fray, warping space around him. Nyra's beasts collapsed under the pressure of his presence.
Only Vael held his ground, divine tattoos flaring as he extended wards to shield the others.
Kael didn't move.
Not until the third descended.
---
The Third Angel: Fallen Flame
The third being dropped silently, landing directly in front of Kael. Unlike the others, he wore no armor, bore no blade.
Instead, his face was hauntingly familiar.
Golden eyes. Ashen skin. A scar down his jawline.
Kael staggered back.
"You…"
The being tilted his head. "So. You see it."
It was Kael.
Or rather—what Kael might become.
"I am the God-Forged Shadow," it said. "I was made from what was stolen when your bloodline was broken. The gods extracted a fragment from the Abyss within your line... and forged me."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "You're a piece of me?"
"No," the doppelgänger said. "I am your end."
---
Two Shadows, One Fate
Their clash was silent.
No thunder. No fire.
Only darkness and gravity twisting violently as two versions of Kael fought for dominance. One born of mortal rebellion, the other of divine fear.
Blades met. Shadows clashed. Every strike tore holes in space.
"You can't win," the forged copy hissed. "You carry the Sovereign's chain. It makes you weak. Bound."
Kael bled—black, shimmering blood—but smiled.
"You were made by gods who fear the chain."
He raised his arm—and for the first time, willed the chain to obey.
It lashed out, wrapping around his mirror's throat, dragging him to his knees.
"I am not bound. I am crowned."
Kael plunged his blade through the doppelgänger's chest.
---
The Angels Withdraw
Sol'Enari sensed it instantly. Her comrade—the shadow clone—was dying. And worse, the Abyss was adapting. Twisting their gifts. Turning their light into fuel.
"This vessel cannot be allowed to mature," she spat, wings spreading.
She struck a divine sigil in the air. "Purge sequence. Level Seven."
The canyon began to collapse.
But Kael had already moved—lifting his allies with a surge of Dominion force, shadow-warping them miles away just as a pillar of fire swallowed the Tomb of Chains.
---
Aftermath: The Sovereign's Echo
As the dust settled, Kael knelt in a ruined grove, gasping.
Sera steadied him. "You beat one of their shadows."
"No," Kael said. "I beat my own. The part of me they tried to steal."
He looked at the burned horizon.
"They'll come again."
"And we'll be ready," Sera said.
Kael nodded, then whispered to the void:
"Next time, I bring the war to them."
---
End of Chapter 35