Lightning carved the heavens apart.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. Then, it shattered.
Crimson light spilled across the sky like fresh blood, veining the clouds in unnatural streaks. The old moon flickered, split down the middle by a violent stroke of energy. From horizon to horizon, a rupture pulsed in the firmament — a wound that refused to close.
Beneath that broken sky, a boy stood alone.
Kael Kairis didn't flinch as debris rained down from the mountain temple behind him. He didn't look back at the fire that had consumed everything he once called home — the monastery, the archives, the sacred mirrors. He only stared upward, dark hair tousled by wind that smelled of ozone and ruin.
He wasn't crying.
He didn't have the time.
The earth trembled. Not from aftershocks, but from something far older, far deeper. Power was leaking through the sky's fracture — the kind of power that hadn't walked this realm in ten thousand years.
And it was looking for him.
"Kael! Get down!"
A voice — sharp, feminine — cut through the roar. A streak of violet energy crashed down where Kael had stood seconds before, turning ancient stone into molten glass. He turned his head, slowly, as if waking from a dream.
A girl leapt over the rubble like a falling star. She landed beside him, her twin blades humming with residual heat. Ash and wind lashed at her cloak, but her eyes were locked on him.
"You're not supposed to be here. The fracture's spreading. We have to move—"
Kael didn't move.
He was watching the sky.
He wasn't seeing her. Not yet.
He was seeing them.
Silhouettes formed within the tear above, like marionettes behind stained glass — towering figures of armor and flame, of wings and chains, of crowns and blades that hummed with the promise of domination. He couldn't explain how, but he felt their presence not just in his eyes, but in his blood.
They're not just watching, he thought. They're choosing.
And in that moment, something chose him back.
A glyph blazed to life across his palm — one he'd never seen before. It writhed like ink, shimmered like molten gold. It burned. But he didn't scream.
"Kael?!"
He stepped forward. Toward the edge of the mountain. Toward the light.
"Don't!"
Too late.
The wind howled as Kael jumped.
But he didn't fall.
The glyph on his hand pulsed. And the world slowed.
Every shard of air bent to his motion. Every gust bent around him like a throne made of gravity. And then — in one perfect second — Kael landed below, untouched, just as a spire of obsidian erupted from the canyon floor.
The girl stared from above, stunned.
So did the invaders.
Kael looked at his hands, then at the monstrous creatures emerging through the sky wound.
He felt no fear.
Only clarity.
"I'm not running anymore," he whispered.
The glyph on his hand blazed. So did the world.
And from above, the Sovereigns watched.
Kael's pulse quickened as the ancient glyph pulsed against his palm. It wasn't just a marking; it was a seal, a call to something other—something greater than himself. And the world, in its trembling state, seemed to listen.
From above, the invaders—the Sovereigns—began to descend. Each of them carried the weight of forgotten realms, cloaked in armor forged from time itself. Their wings spread wide, casting shadows over the earth, each step an echo of eternity.
The girl who had warned him was still standing behind him, her body tense with both fear and preparation. Her blades were still humming, but Kael could feel her hesitation. He wasn't sure why.
"You…" She faltered, eyeing him warily. "Who are you? What is that?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. His gaze was still fixed on the sky, his mind racing. He had no idea who these beings were, or what had shattered the world above. But one thing was clear: they were no ordinary enemies. And he wasn't going to run from them.
A figure in the center of the sky grew larger, flanked by two others. This one was different. His presence sent a shockwave through the air, like the cracking of a distant thunderclap. His armor was dark, like a reflection of the very abyss, and his eyes glowed with a terrifying, otherworldly light.
Kael's breath caught in his chest as the figure's voice cut through the storm.
"You are the one we've been waiting for."
The words pierced him, but they didn't bring fear. They carried a weight—an expectation. An invitation. The air around him seemed to vibrate, the power of the words resonating within his very bones.
Kael straightened, feeling a surge of strength he had never known. He raised his hand slowly, the glyph blazing against his skin, and with a deep breath, he focused.
This is my choice, he thought.
The girl moved beside him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Kael, no! Don't—"
But it was already too late. The ground beneath them cracked open with a roar, as if the very earth itself could no longer bear the weight of the sky. The invaders were upon them now, their figures impossibly vast, their very presence warping the world.
Kael's voice was a calm whisper in the chaos, one word that carried with it the power of his resolve.
"Stay."
His words were a command, not for her, but for the world. And as they fell from his lips, the sky itself seemed to obey.
The Sovereigns paused mid-air, their ethereal forms suspended, seemingly bound by the weight of his declaration. Kael's body burned with an inner fire, his pulse synchronized with the throbbing glyph on his palm. It was like a key unlocking something ancient inside him, and the power surged.
The earth trembled again, not from fear, but from the stirring of power long forgotten.
In that moment, Kael understood what had been waiting for him.
The Sovereigns were not just invaders, not just beings of power. They were judges. And Kael was their chosen subject.
The ground beneath them split open, a rift opening wide as energy swirled in the sky like a violent storm. The Sovereigns descended in unison, their forms casting vast, impossible shadows over Kael and the girl. It was clear now—this was no mere battle.
This was a trial.
The center figure—the one with the dark armor—spoke again, his voice carrying the weight of eons.
"Kael Kairis, you stand at the crossroads of your destiny. We offer you the Sovereign's power, the Split Sky's dominion. Will you accept?"
Kael's heart beat loud in his ears. The moment stretched, the world hanging on his answer. He wasn't sure what this power would mean, what accepting it would cost. But as the glyph on his hand pulsed brighter, he felt something shift deep inside him.
His past, the shattered monastery, the whispers of his bloodline, all of it faded into the background. All that remained was the power that flowed through his veins. He knew, in the core of his being, that this was the moment he had been waiting for.
And he wasn't about to let it slip away.
"I accept."
The words were like thunder. As soon as they left his mouth, the sky cracked open even further, the very fabric of reality itself trembling. The Sovereign in dark armor raised his hand, and the power surged like an unrelenting tide. Kael's body was engulfed by it, and for a moment, it felt like the universe itself was bending around him.
Time slowed. Reality warped.
Then, in an explosion of raw power, Kael was no longer standing on the cracked earth. He was somewhere else. Somewhere vast. A place that defied logic, stretching endlessly into the horizon. It was like being inside a storm, the sky swirling with colors that had no names.
"This is the Split Sky's domain," the Sovereign's voice echoed, as if coming from everywhere at once. "Here, you are beyond the limits of mortality. Here, you will become the force that bends the world to its knees."
Kael stood in the center of it all, his body humming with newfound power. His hand glowed, the glyph still burning brightly, but it was no longer just a mark.
It was his.
This power, this realm, it was all his now. And nothing—no matter how many invaders, no matter how many forces from the heavens themselves—could stop him.
He was Kael Kairis, the Sovereign of the Split Sky.
And he was ready to reign.