{Chapter 1 and 2 are prologue}
~46 hours before the shattering.
"Everyone, prepare yourselves—we're about to meet the keyholders from the other kingdoms."
The man addressed his General with calm authority before raising his voice to address the massive army behind him.
"WE SHALL MARCH WITH SUCH FEROCITY THAT THE GROUND ITSELF WILL QUAKE IN FEAR! SO HOLD YOUR HEADS HIGH AND BE PROUD THAT YOU'RE A PART OF MY ARMY!"
His voice boomed, echoing across the field. The soldiers roared in response, their voices blending into a deafening wave of devotion. Every single one of them could feel the arrogance emanating from their leader—a pale-skinned man with flowing blonde hair, an angelic face sculpted like a deity, and a commanding presence that seemed otherworldly.
This man was Aeryn Falcrest, the so-called "God's Favorite." To his followers, he was more than a hero; he was divinity made flesh. To others, he was a man whose confidence bordered on recklessness.
With banners held high and weapons glinting in the sunlight, the army marched forward, their steps shaking the earth beneath them as they moved toward the Gate of Truth.
~43 hours before the shattering.
The General, a short man with countless scars on his face, stood before Aeryn. His voice was steady, but his heart pounded with unease.
"Hero, we're setting up a temporary base here to check our supplies and prepare the units for any potential battle. This might take some time, but we'll try to finish as quickly as possible."
Aeryn waved his hand dismissively, a smirk curling on his lips.
"There's no need for all this preparing and training nonsense. Just get it done. Let's be honest, General—if we're forced to fight, we'll just win. After all, I'm the strongest there is. Even if something stronger were to appear, we have over 100,000 men. Sheer numbers would kill anything."
"But sir—"
"Are you trying to say that I'm wrong?" Aeryn's voice sharpened, his golden eyes narrowing as he turned to glare at the General.
The General hesitated, swallowing hard. "N-no, sir. You're always right."
Aeryn chuckled softly, the sound cold and laced with amusement. As he brushed past the trembling General, who was sweating profusely, Aeryn's grin widened.
'This never gets old.'
"I'll be at the gate. Don't keep me waiting. You know what happens when people make me wait... right?"
"Y-yes, sir."
The General sighed heavily as Aeryn walked off, his footsteps as confident and angelic as ever.
'He's never wrong... right?'
~42 hours before shattering.
At the foot of the Gate of Truth, a huge crowd had gathered. As Aeryn approached, he looked up to take in the megalithic structure in all its glory. Constructed from ancient stone and reinforced with magical seals, it pierced the heavens. Historical records indicated that it was built after the Age of War, though its origin and purpose remain shrouded in mystery. Legends claimed that the people who built the gate ended their own lives afterward to ensure its secrets remained hidden.
Aeryn slowly approached, his army marching behind him. The scene before them resembled a festival: keyholders from five of the six great kingdoms had arrived, accompanied by scribes eager to record history. People from various factions gathered to demonstrate their loyalty to the Church of Truth and to Aeryn himself.
Aeryn and his army stood tall before the Gate, his angelic smile unwavering. But as the echoes of the crowd filled the air, a flicker of unease crossed his mind. It disappeared as quickly as it came, smothered by the weight of his ego.
The keyholders approached, each holding a key that faintly shimmered in the sunlight. An older keyholder stepped forward, his face marked with concern.
"Oh hero, Aeryn Falcrest of the Hearthsworn household," the man began, his voice tinged with worry, "we fear we may not be able to open the gate."
Aeryn tilted his head, his voice calm and collected. "Why not?"
"We need six keys to open the Gate to the Garden of Truth. Only five great kingdoms agreed. The king of Prythia refused, saying it's a waste of time and that you would fail, just as everyone before you has."
A faint smile tugged at Aeryn's lips.
'I trained all my life for this. I can't let this go to waste. After all, I'm God's chosen—his favorite.'
He reassured himself silently, clinging to his conviction.
'I just need to reach the center of the Garden to find the ancient truth. Nothing can go wrong.'
"Should we call it off, sir hero?" one of the keyholders asked hesitantly.
Aeryn sighed, pondering briefly before answering.
"We'll use the five keys to unlock the seal, and for the sixth, we'll simply force it open."
The keyholders exchanged uneasy glances. One stepped forward cautiously.
"Hero... what if something goes wrong? I'm not saying you're wrong, but this is a very ancient gate. God knows what kind of curse might be unleashed if we force the seal."
Aeryn scoffed, his angelic grin widening. "God wouldn't inflict a curse on his favorite child."
"But what if you're not his fav—" Before the man could finish his sentence, Aeryn sliced off his arm and gouged out his eyes. He fell to the ground, gasping for air.
The keyholders fell silent, their unease palpable. Yet the crowd around them roared, drowning out any sense of trepidation. For the mindless masses, Aeryn was a god in his own right.
The five keys were inserted. Aeryn turned with a confident look and raised his voice.
"GOD GIVES HIS STRONGEST SOLDIERS HIS HARDEST BATTLES! THIS IS HIM TESTING US, AND WE WILL OVERCOME THIS TOGETHER. THE ONLY THING BLOCKING US IS A SINGLE SEAL. SO I ASK YOU, MY ARMY: PICK UP TOOLS! IF YOU DON'T HAVE TOOLS, FIND A ROCK. IF YOU CAN'T FIND A ROCK, USE YOUR HANDS. USE ANYTHING TO OPEN THIS GATE! WE WILL PROVE TO HIM THAT WE ARE HIS STRONGEST SOLDIERS."
Hearing this, the crowd went wild. The army banged their weapons against their armor, and with tools, rocks, and bare hands, they surged toward the gate to force the final seal open.
~32 hours before the shattering.
After hours of relentless effort, they broke the seal.
As soon as the final seal broke, the ground beneath them shook violently. The magical glow that once surrounded the gate vanished, replaced by an ominous stillness. Dust rose high, blotting out the sunlight and darkening the sky. It felt as though the dead—long-buried ancestors—were clawing their way out of the ground to warn or curse them for their transgression.
Fear gripped the crowd. They dropped their tools and rocks, screaming as they ran, shoving and trampling one another in their desperation to flee.
Aeryn's polished boots trembled against the ground, the dust ruining their gleam. His sword gripped tightly in hand, a strange sensation clawed at his chest—an unfamiliar, unwelcome feeling. Was this... fear?
Aeryn's body betrayed his mind, his ego. His breathing quickened as he struggled to suppress the unease building within him. He tried to calm his thoughts, forcing himself to stand tall, but his knees refused to stop trembling. Sweat prickled at the back of his neck, and his heart pounded like a drum in his chest.
Straightening his back, he pushed the doubt away with sheer force of will. No, this couldn't be fear. How could he—God's chosen—feel fear?
'Wrong,' the thought slithered unbidden into his mind as his golden eyes darted across the crumbling battlefield. His confidence faltered, cracks forming in his perfect façade. This couldn't be his fault. It couldn't be. No, these fools—these mindless cretins—must have done something wrong.
"God's favorite," he repeated to himself, like a mantra against the growing unease. His legs trembled, but he told himself it wasn't his failure—it was theirs. "I am perfection incarnate. They—they are the flawed ones. They failed, not me."
Slowly, the dust began to settle. Aeryn took a deep breath, forcing himself to reassemble the mask of calm and composure.
Turning to his followers, he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. For a fraction of a second, the silence betrayed his shaking resolve. He coughed and tried again, his voice ringing out over the trembling masses.
"Behold! The heavens quake at our might!"
Though his heart still thundered in his chest, his words were a weapon, cutting through the uncertainty like a blade. Deep inside, however, a seed of doubt had taken root—a small, insidious thing he ignored, clinging desperately to his faith.
"This is nothing more than a test of resolve. Do not falter now. Pick up your weapons, and march with me into the Garden of Truth!"
Yet as he spoke, a voice deep within whispered again, cruel and persistent. What if this is no test? What if I fail, just as those before me did?
The crowd, still shaken, exchanged uneasy glances. The fear lingered in their eyes, but none dared defy Aeryn's orders. Slowly, they picked up their weapons, waiting for their leader to step into the gate first.
Aeryn took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever lay ahead. This is it, he thought, the moment I've been waiting for.
With his resolve steeled—at least on the surface—he closed his eyes and took his first steps through the Gate of Truth.
Inside, the Garden of Truth was… ordinary. Painfully ordinary.
Aeryn's golden eyes darted around, disbelief etched across his angelic features. The air was still. The grass beneath his boots was lush but mundane. Trees lined the horizon, their leaves rustling faintly in a breeze. There was no radiant light, no divine spectacle, no overwhelming proof of God's favor.
This couldn't be right.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nothing changed.
His army followed behind him, stepping cautiously into the garden. They, too, looked around in disappointment. The anticipation that had carried them here now curdled into confusion and doubt.
Aeryn frowned. Something was wrong. It was too quiet. Too calm.
"Everyone," he said, his voice steady but edged with unease, "whatever happens, do not let your guard down."
The soldiers nodded, gripping their weapons as they began to march deeper into the garden. Unaware that every step brought them closer to their doom.
~25 hours before the shattering.
They had been marching for hours, taking only brief rests to catch their breath. The further they went, the more suffocating the silence became. There were no sounds of animals, no insects, not even the rustling of leaves anymore. Just the rhythmic clanking of armor and the steady crunch of boots on the soft earth.
They been marching so long they don't even know if they are on the right path. Some have lost their trust in Aeryn but they didn't rise their voice. If they have lord know what would have happened. They just marched without speaking, just march because that's the only job they have and anything else blaspheme.
Marching for a bit longer everyone stopped—There was no commands, no one uttered a single word instinctively everyone stopped to look around. The surroundings grew unnaturally dark, a darkness deeper than any moonless night.
Aeryn turned his head around trying to see their faces. Fear—fear is the only thing he saw. Not wishing to see their pathetic faces any longer he looked up. There it was—sun it was right there, it didn't go anywhere. So many quetion running through his mind. He just pushed them away after all even if he ask there would be no answer.
'This place—It's strange. Even though the sun is out, it's light is not able to reach this place.'
He sighed heavily. Afterall trying to comprehend something incomprehensible is blatantly stupid.
They started to march once more.
~18 hours before shattering.
A thick fog covers the land. They couldn't see anyone before them. It's too dangerous to march forward in these conditions.
A soldier breathing heavily—"Huff, huff." as he came running toward the General.
"S-sir"
"Yes soldier. Is there any issue?"
"Is there anyway you can stop and setup camp. Many of the soldier are finding it hard to breath and few have started puking blood."
This is bad, soldiers are physically breaking down and morale dropping. Is this asign of something unnatural—possibly a curse maybe—just maybe atmosphere here is toxic. But that doesn't matter the only thing that matter is saving his men.
"Take me to those soldier."
He expectation was low but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. His heart sunk seeing his people bleeding from every hole. Their body have shark in size, barely any blood left in them, their teeth hair falling off. Those who began to show symptoms were in extreme pain.
"AAAAAAAaaaaaAA"
As the soldier screamed. General closed his eye. He had to do something, he had to save them.
Without a second thought he went to confront Aeryn.
As he reached Aeryn he voiced his worry "We have a problem"
Aeryn looked at him with a annoyed expression.
"It's always a problem when its comes to you." Aeryn with a mocking tone." Did you crawl out of your mother's wound being cursed?."
General did feel anger rush over him but he didn't have time for this childish banter.
"Hero, we have to set up camp" he paused for a moment "No it's better to retreat"
Aeryn's facial expression hardened as he looked into the General eyes—no into hissoul.
'He will kill me if—I can't back off now. I have to save those soldier's life' he thought as a cold sweat formed on his face, his hand's shaking.
"Hero people are dying as he speak. Continuing the march under conditions will lead to mass casualties"
"We are not stopping anytime soon, end of conversation."
"Have mercy on those innocent life."
"As i said end of conversation."
"Ple—"
In a Swift motion Aeryn had slashed off his arm. He fell to ground.
"AAAaaaA—have mercy on—those life"
Aeryn kicked him aside as he "Even though you're a heretic. I'm merciful, don't waste you're life asking for something that you won't get"
The General stood up. He knew his trying was futility, Aeryn would never agree to him.
General still bleeding went back to the soldiers. Seeing the General rushing towards them with his severed hand soldiers went silent after all he risked his life for their sake. They couldn't hold back they rushed to his aid.
They couldn't put the severed hand. General didn't even let them properly bandage his wound at all he was worried about the life of innocent soldiers.
"AAaaAA"
General heart sunk even deeper as a soldier cried out in pain. He know he can't save them but he cannot let them die being alone—in pain. They were like kids to him, he taught wield a sword, shield, taught them to stand up when they where hit.
A soldier came close to the General.
"What should we do know."
This was a hard decisions for the General to make. Was he a loyal dog to the hero, his religion or was he going to sacrifice them to save life. With a hardened heart General had made a decisions,
"Let's setup camp treat the wounded and prepare to retreat." he slowly walked towards a dying soldier taking his last breath "Those who wish to stay with me can stay, rest leave with hero to the path of salvation."
He held the hand of the dying soldier and spoke "Sorry——"
The soldier using his last breath "It's not you're fault General." he coughed out blood " Gener—can you tell my family. I dead surround by fri——"
He was unable to finish his sentence but the pain was unbearable.
"AHHAhhhahHAH"
General took out his sword. He knew what he has to do. "You did great we are all pound of you. So please rest peacefully.''
The soldier's scream cut through the air, and the General, choking on his own grief, ended the man's suffering with a single stroke.
He walked away, his tears hidden from his men.
'It's all my fault'.
The army of once 100,000 loyal man was split in half.