Heaven Defying King

???POV

The great throne room was a place of divine beauty, a sanctum where the very air seemed to hum with the sacred pulse of the gods. Once a gleaming sanctuary of light, it now lay heavy in the shadows, as though the gods themselves had turned their backs on this sacred ground. Bruno Alpheus, the God King, sat motionless on his throne, his yellow eyes glowing with a disturbing quietness that stretched across the room like a weighty silence. The moonlight that had once bathed this hall in peace now spilled in muted tones, a pale, blood-hued light that cast long, eerie shadows over the marble floors. The coldness of the air was oppressive, each breath filled with the taste of impending doom.

At his side, his wife, Diana, the Priestess of Alea, sat as a beacon of beauty—unearthly and perfect, yet a fragile silhouette in the fading light. The gown that clung to her form was delicate, almost ethereal, but the expression on her face was one of sorrow—heavy with the realization that the world was about to fall apart. Her blue eyes shimmered, reflecting the moon's pale glow, but they were haunted. There was no longer peace in her heart, only the weight of an inevitable loss that she could not undo. Her slender fingers clenched on the armrest, the tension radiating from her posture like a living thing.

For Bruno, the weight was heavier still. Despite the graceful delicacy of his form, his heart was a battlefield. His thoughts were scattered, broken, as the very room seemed to tremble with the choices that had led him here. The faint tapping of his fingers on the arm of his throne was the only sound in the room, echoing like a metronome counting down to a fate he could no longer avoid. The guilt that had been buried deep within him was now rising—he had failed to see the consequences of his actions. He had been too eager to prove himself, too sure of his power.

His eyes locked onto Diana's, and for a fleeting moment, the world around them disappeared. He saw the haunting reflection of the woman he loved, the Priestess who had sacrificed so much for him. They were trapped, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Brother!" The voice of Grey, the prince of Ethel, broke through the suffocating silence. His cry echoed across the room, each word filled with desperation and betrayal. He stood at the doorway, eyes wide, his face pale with fear. His gaze was locked on the two figures seated on the thrones, and in that moment, it was as though the entire weight of the universe had fallen upon his shoulders.

The gods of Olympus, the very beings who once ruled over Ethel with divine arrogance, were now at odds with the fate that had been written for them. Grey's hands clenched into fists, his body trembling with the rage that burned within him. He had watched his kingdom, his family, and his world crumble before his eyes, powerless to stop it. The Abyssal Children, the twins born of the gods' greatest sins, had risen from the depths of the earth, heralding the end of the world.

"This cannot be…" Grey's voice was shaky, his lips barely forming the words. "You—you can't…"

His words trailed off as Bruno slowly lifted his gaze to meet his brother's. The God King's eyes, once bright and filled with certainty, were now clouded with the weight of his failure. Diana looked away, her face a mask of sorrow as she reached for Bruno's hand, her fingers brushing his as though trying to hold him together. It was a silent act of comfort, but it did little to assuage the storm brewing within him.

"I am sorry, Grey," Bruno finally spoke, his voice soft but laden with regret. "There's nothing more we can do…"

A low rumble filled the air. The earth itself seemed to groan under the pressure of the world's impending destruction. Grey's chest tightened as he felt the weight of Bruno's words settle deep into his bones. There was no salvation. The Abyss had come. And there was no escaping it.

Far below in the city of Ethel, the capital had descended into chaos. Once a city of light and joy, it was now a place of ruin. Streets that had once bustled with life were now strewn with the dead, bodies twisted and broken, their faces frozen in screams that could no longer be heard. The Abyssal creatures roamed freely, tearing through the once-beautiful structures of the city with the ferocity of predators. Fiery creatures, beasts of shadow, and monsters beyond description had overrun the streets, their screams echoing in the heavens.

From the palace, the screams of the dying carried on the wind, and Bruno could hear them, feel them in his bones. They were the sound of loss, the wails of a people crushed under the weight of the gods' sins.

Atrius, the son of Ares, paced frantically around the banquet hall. His fiery red hair whipped around his face as he tore at his robes, eyes burning with fury. The once-joyful sounds of music and dance had been silenced, replaced by the sounds of clashing swords and screams.

"Damn that god!" Atrius spat, his voice raw with anger. "How could he do this?"

His eyes, bright as embers, were filled with fury, but they also held something darker—something more fragile. His godly blood, once a source of pride, now felt like a curse. The pressure of his birthright crushed him, suffocated him, and he couldn't run from it. The echoes of his father's expectations burned in his mind, and in this moment, he realized just how small and insignificant he truly was.

And then, as if the universe itself had been pulled to the breaking point, the shuddering of the palace walls shook everything. A thunderous boom erupted from the very bowels of the earth, shaking the foundation of their reality. The gods stilled, and even the Abyssal horrors paused for a moment.

It was the voice of Bruno Alpheus, the God King, speaking to the heavens.

"No more running," Bruno whispered to himself, though the sound seemed to carry for miles. "It's time to face the truth."

The entire world of Ethel held its breath. Time seemed to slow as the Abyssal Children, the gods' darkest creation, surged forward—an unstoppable force of destruction. The world, once full of life and wonder, now lay on the cusp of eternal night.

And the gods? They were just as doomed as the mortals they had sought to control. Their efforts, their plans, their fate had been sealed long ago, and now, they would watch as their kingdom was consumed.