The morning in Skybia was warm and bright, with white clouds stretching softly underfoot like a carpet of tenderness, when the sound of small bells echoed through the cloud-covered alleys, accompanied by a familiar voice rising above the whispers of the wind.
The temple envoy, clad in sacred robes and holding a long staff, walked confidently through the streets, proclaiming in his usual voice: "By the order of the god Ganfor! All residents of the Angel Island must head to the Great Temple immediately! Attendance is mandatory!"
There was nothing alarming about the announcement. In fact, it didn't stir anxiety among the people but rather awakened a cheerful curiosity, as if they were being invited to a rare event. Ganfor, despite his status as a "god," was not known for inciting terror or waging wars. Instead, he had always been considered a tolerant ruler, rarely disrupting Skybia's tranquility with urgent calls.
In one of the alleys, a woman carrying a basket of cloud flowers stopped and said to her neighbor with a slight smile, "What do you think this is about? Is there a new festival being announced?"
Her neighbor teased, playing with her son, "Maybe they've found a way to make the clouds rain honey!"
In the marketplace, a fruit vendor stopped hawking his goods and raised an eyebrow with interest. "An emergency gathering? We haven't seen anything like this in years. I'm going to see what's going on."
In truth, the residents had no reason to worry. For decades, nothing had threatened the security of their floating island. Even the Shandians—those warriors lurking in the distant forests around the Upper Lands—had been quiet.
The relationship between the Shandians and the people of Angel Island had always been vague and distant, more like an ancient legend than a daily reality. No trade, no visits, no conversations about them—just occasional whispers about "our enemies in the far-off lands," with no one bothering to learn more.
So no one asked about them. No one noticed their disappearance. And if anyone did, they might have assumed they had simply given up on a pointless fight.
Under this general sense of curiosity and calm, feet began moving toward the Great Temple at the island's center. Men and women, young and old, with hopeful expressions and a delicious curiosity flickering in their eyes: "What does the god want to tell us today?"
At that moment, Skybia remained unaware that it stood on the brink of a new era... and a storm unlike any the sky had ever seen.
---
The crowd gathered in front of the Great Temple, that massive cloud dome shimmering under the sunlight as if made of white gold. A quiet energy filled the square, mingling with murmurs of curiosity and soft laughter, as the envoys directed people to their designated spots.
Suddenly, the sound of priestly bells rang out, and the temple doors slowly opened, plunging the place into silence.
Ganfor emerged.
He walked with steady steps, his white armor gleaming in the sky's light, flanked by two elite temple guards. Despite his advanced age, his features retained that strange mix of dignity and wisdom.
Breaths were held, and some heads bowed in respect.
Ganfor stood at the top of the steps, gazing at the assembly that had come in response to his call.
He spoke in a resonant voice, clear as thunder:
"People of Skybia... people of the clouds, children of the sky."
A light murmur spread before silence fell again.
He continued: "For centuries, our island has been divided. Between us, the people of the Angel, and the Shandians... those who swore the Upper Lands were theirs and waged wars for them, generation after generation."
Some exchanged glances, as if the mention of the Shandians awakened a forgotten memory.
"But today, I stand before you to declare the end of this chapter... the end of a war that has lasted over four hundred years."
Whispers accelerated, eyes widened. Some gasped, while others frowned in shock.
Ganfor said slowly:
"The Shandians... are gone."
The silence was heavy. Terrifying.
An elder muttered in disbelief, "This... is impossible."
"But it is my duty to be honest with you..."
Ganfor spoke in a low voice, as if the words came from the depths of a heart burdened by history. Silence prevailed, all eyes fixed on him.
"The Shandians did not vanish by miracle... nor by celestial disaster... They were exterminated. All of them."
Anxious glances darted among the crowd as Ganfor continued: "The one who did this... is a young man not of Skybian origin. His name is Luka."
Soft murmurs, widened eyes, questions on the tips of tongues.
"He came to us without lineage, without fame... but he carried in his hands power and authority, and a sincere desire to end the war. He tried to make peace, but the Shandians refused. So he ended the war in his own way."
Another silence. Ganfor sighed, looked at the sky for a moment, then turned back to the people: "I have grown old... I have lived long enough and seen enough wars. I am tired... and I do not wish to continue this role any longer."
His words wavered, as if he feared their reaction, but he pressed on with determination:
"My wish is for Luka to become the new god of Skybia. Not just because he is the strongest... but because he is the only one capable of preventing another war. He carries a vision different from all of ours."
Then he gestured to the side of the square, where the envoys began clearing the way.
Luka appeared.
A young man, his features calm but leaving a tremor in the heart. His eyes shone with sharpness and focus, stepping forward with steady strides without glancing at anyone, his dark robe swaying with the cloud winds as if he did not belong to this world.
His mere presence alone silenced all voices.
He stopped beside Ganfor and did not utter a word.
The old god lowered his head slightly and said quietly:
"Skybia needs a new leader... and this is my choice."
A heavy silence followed Ganfor's words, as if time had paused for a moment, and the sky itself held its breath. Then whispers began to creep through the ranks, voice after voice, as if the noise was slowly awakening from slumber.
"A young man?! He wiped them out?!" "But we never heard of any battle!" "Why weren't we told anything before?!"
It wasn't fear that loomed over the square, but a strange mix of curiosity and wariness... curiosity about who this stranger was, this new god who had appeared without introduction, and wariness of his calmness, his silent stance beside the old god, and the fact that he had ended centuries of war without anyone noticing.
Some faces seemed accepting, even hopeful: "Maybe this is for the best... peace at last!" "God Ganfor has never failed us... if he chose this young man, he must be worthy."
But others were filled with caution: "Who's to say he won't turn on us too?" "We know nothing about him... where did he come from? What are his intentions?"
Yet despite all these questions, no one dared to step forward or openly object. There was something inexplicable in Luka's stance... a calmness that unsettled the heart, a confidence that shook their souls.
And as Luka remained silent, observing the faces, his words were unnecessary in that moment. His presence alone was enough to convince some... and unsettle the rest.
---
Inara stood among the crowd, her gray hair cascading freely over her shoulders, wearing a tight gray shirt that accentuated her figure and white pants that clung to her body, highlighting her striking beauty. Her allure was merciless, and the magnetism of her form drew the gazes of men from all directions; some tried to lower their eyes out of respect for the occasion, while others couldn't help but steal long glances, filled with awe and suppressed desire.
But Inara's eyes didn't turn toward any of them. She was transfixed, staring at Ganfor, receiving his words like slow, piercing blows. "Luka is the one who ended the Shandians... They refused peace, so he erased them."
The phrase repeated in her mind slowly, as if her thoughts refused to believe it. Extermination? Luka? She hadn't seen him as an angel, but she never imagined him as the annihilator of an entire people.
She placed a hand on her chest, feeling an unfamiliar weight, as if her heart had sunk a step lower. A mix of pride and bewilderment twisted her expression. Who was this boy she had shared a bed with? Who was this now standing on the threshold of divinity?
She looked at him, and for the first time, she felt that Luka... was not just a bold young man. He was a force. Something too vast to be contained by mere desire.
Yan stood a few steps away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes not leaving her face for a moment. He saw how she looked at Luka—a long, mesmerized gaze, filled with astonishment and admiration, as if she were seeing something celestial, untouchable. A burning sensation rose in his chest, neither anger nor sorrow... but that silent jealousy that gnaws at a man when he realizes his woman sees another as greater than him.
And it wasn't just her gaze that provoked him, but the gazes of other men at Inara's body. He saw how their eyes wandered over the contours of her tight shirt and clinging pants, and though he was used to his wife's beauty and proud of it, today felt different.
Silence fell again before Luka took a step forward. He didn't raise his voice or adopt a formal stance—he simply stood there, as if speaking from his heart, in a quiet yet clear voice that reached everyone in the square:
"Well, it's time for some nonsense to make them accept me," Luka thought to himself as he stepped forward.
"I don't ask you to love me... nor to understand everything I've done. What I ask... is that you look forward."
He paused for a moment, scanning the stunned faces.
"Skybia deserves to live in peace. Without war, without fear, without bloodshed every generation. I did not come to be a god of gold... but to ensure your children don't become soldiers in endless wars."
He took another step forward, his voice gaining strength:
"I did what others have done silently for centuries... but I ended the story, not out of hatred... but because an end was necessary. You may not like my methods, but they stopped the fighting. That is the reality."
He glanced at Ganfor, then back at the people:
"I will protect Skybia... and I will make it stronger. Those who do not trust me... let them stay and watch. Time will tell if my choice was right."
Then he fell silent, his gaze turning briefly to the sky.
"That is all."
His words were few... but they fell upon hearts like rain after drought.
"I think this nonsense will lessen the opposition," Luka thought to himself.
---
As Luka remained standing, his eyes briefly scanning the sky, Inara felt something take hold of her. Something like a quiet fire burning deep in her chest... It wasn't just desire, but a deadly mix of admiration, fascination, and an irresistible pull toward this boy.
She felt her body tense, a strange lightness in her chest, as if the air around her had grown warmer. Her gaze clung to him, studying that unsettling calm, the stark confidence in his movements. How could a boy his age carry such weight... and such magnetism?
She couldn't stop herself from imagining his fingers—strong, confident—reaching for her as they had that last night. She remembered how he had whispered in her ear, in a tone that knew no mercy, how his body had enveloped her like a storm of lightning and heat. Something in his eyes that night had not been youthful or innocent... but regal, a creature born to be obeyed.
Her chest tightened as she saw him now, standing tall, imposing himself upon an entire island. Not just with his strength, but with his gaze, his silence, the way he stood, as if his very body had become a symbol of authority. She swallowed hard, realizing something dangerous: He had changed. He was no longer just the boy she desired... He had become something she couldn't let go of.
Yan saw the tremor in her body. He saw how her pupils dilated as she looked at Luka as if seeing him naked before her. He wasn't stupid... He knew what those looks meant.
A mix of urges—to scream, to flee, to destroy—churned inside him. But he didn't move. He just clenched his fists and turned his face away, trying not to see... and not to explode.
And in that moment, Luka's eyes flickered briefly... a fleeting glance, but his gaze met Inara's.
That single look was enough. Enough to ignite everything she had struggled to suppress.
She thought, feeling heat creeping up her neck:
"Damn you, Luka... You're not a god. You're a curse... an irresistible pleasure."