Location: Heavenly Palace
Far beyond mortal reach, where the fabric of existence thinned into divine splendor, the Heavenly Palace stood as a beacon of celestial majesty.
FWOOSH! (A soft gust of ethereal wind swept across the divine realm, whispering hymns of creation.)
Towers of crystal and light stretched beyond the limits of sight, their shimmering reflections dancing upon the boundless cosmos. The palace itself pulsed with radiant divinity, its structure neither wholly solid nor ethereal a fusion of celestial will and eternal law.
HUMMMM... (A low, reverberating hum resonated through the sacred halls, the very air thrumming with divine energy.)
Rivers of luminescent energy coursed through the palace like veins of a living god, their currents carrying whispered prophecies and ancient hymns. The sacred halls, adorned with golden sigils that glowed with an inner fire, stood as silent witnesses to the unfolding decree of fate.
At the heart of this otherworldly grandeur lay the Ethereal Hall, a chamber so vast it defied mortal comprehension. Its ceiling stretched into an endless expanse of blazing celestial gold, reflecting the light of a thousand unseen suns.
And within this chamber, they had gathered.
The High-Rank Angels beings whose presence alone could shake the heavens stood in solemn formation, their wings unfurled in divine majesty. Each bore an aura of reverence and power, their very existence intertwined with the sacred laws that governed all creation.
THOOM! (A resonant pulse echoed through the chamber, signaling the divine proclamation.)
The decree had been spoken by a command from the gods themselves.
A new land had been formed.
The Otherworlders' Continent, a realm forged from celestial intent, had been woven into the fabric of Samsara. Its purpose? Still shrouded in mystery. Its fate? Now entrusted to the angels.
As silence descended upon the Ethereal Hall, the weight of divine responsibility settled upon them. The course of countless souls now lay within their hands.
And so, the heavens prepared to act.
THOOM! (A pulse of divine energy reverberated through the chamber, signaling the sacred assembly.)
Seated upon a throne of celestial light, Archangel Seraphiel, the Herald of Divine Order, surveyed the gathering with piercing golden eyes. His gaze, unwavering and absolute, held the weight of unchallenged wisdom, a sight that could pierce through falsehood, unravel fate, and command the very essence of order.
His six shimmering wings, woven from purest radiance, extended behind him in quiet majesty, their edges flickering with shifting patterns of holy light. Each feather pulsed with a golden brilliance, a testament to his divine authority.
Seraphiel was tallest among the angels over 3 meters (10 feet) emphasizing his superiority over lesser beings, his mere presence felt towering and immense, a force that bent the very air around him. His silver-white hair, streaked with delicate golden threads, cascaded to his shoulders, catching and reflecting the celestial glow that bathed the throne room.
His robes of ethereal silk, interwoven with sacred inscriptions, whispered with divine energy, the symbols shifting and rearranging, as if they were alive constantly rewriting fate itself. With each slight movement, his garments glowed and dimmed, as if the heavens breathed in sync with his being.
As the murmurs of assembled angels faded into reverent silence, Seraphiel raised a single hand.
FWOOOSH! (A pulse of divine energy surged forth, and before the gathered host, a vast Celestial Projection materialized.)
A luminous map of Samsara hovered in midair, its continents shimmering with divine clarity. At its center, the newly designated Otherworlders' Continent pulsed with a soft, golden radiance, its very existence a mystery, its purpose known only to the gods.
Seraphiel's voice, neither loud nor soft, yet carrying the weight of an immutable decree, filled the hall.
"The decree has been given."
The words resonated through the chamber, each syllable a command written into the very laws of creation.
"The Otherworlders must be guided. The True Ascendants' Path must be revealed. The foundations of civilization must be laid."
A deep, solemn silence followed. The angels understood the weight of these words.
The gods had spoken.
And now, the heavens would move.
A solemn silence followed his words, stretching across the vast chamber like an unspoken vow.
The Otherworlders souls plucked from distant realms, torn from their past lives had been cast into this world with neither guidance nor purpose. Scattered. Unprepared. Vulnerable. Without intervention, they would be swallowed by chaos, lost to fate's unrelenting tide.
The weight of responsibility settled upon the gathered angels. The Gods had chosen them.
This was no ordinary decree, this was a divine mandate, a task entrusted to the celestial host for the first time in nearly 40,000 years. It was an act of direct intervention, a rare and profound decision that sent ripples through the very fabric of Samsara.
Seraphiel's golden gaze swept across his brethren.
They could not fail.
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With a single motion of his hand, five golden runes materialized in the air, glowing with celestial brilliance. They pulsed in harmony with the divine decree, radiating an aura that filled the chamber with an unshakable sense of purpose.
"The Gods have bestowed five sacred tasks upon us," Seraphiel's voice resonated through the hall, each word carrying the weight of divine will.
As he spoke, the golden runes expanded, inscribing themselves into the very air like laws that could not be defied.
1. Reveal the True Ascendants' Path to the Otherworlders so they may awaken to their destined journey.
2. Establish Guilds across the Otherworlders' Continent ensuring order and selecting the finest staff from Samsara.
3. Gather the greatest Production-Class Masters to impart the knowledge of crafting, forging, alchemy, and the many arts of creation.
4. Train the Otherworlders in Magic and Combat honing their strengths according to their affinity and potential.
5. Bestow upon each Otherworlder an initial blessing of 100 gold coins to aid them in their new beginning.
Seraphiel lowered his hand, and the glowing runes hummed before vanishing into motes of divine light. His golden eyes gleamed, reflecting the seriousness of the mission.
"Time is limited. We shall divide into two teams to ensure swift execution of the decree."
His words were a command, not a suggestion. The gathered angels straightened, their celestial forms glowing in anticipation. The mission had begun.
------
As Seraphiel's words echoed through the Ethereal Hall, the gathered angels stood in solemn silence, absorbing the weight of the divine decree. The golden runes had faded, but their significance lingered in the air, crackling like remnants of celestial lightning.
With unwavering authority, Seraphiel extended his hand once more, and two radiant symbols appeared in the air, one shimmering with a deep, commanding gold, the other glowing with a youthful, determined silver.
"The divine mission demands precision and efficiency," Seraphiel continued, his golden eyes scanning the assembly. "Thus, we shall divide into two teams."
The First Team – The Harbingers of Ascension;
Composed of High-Rank Angels, this team bore the responsibility of traversing Samsara, seeking out the most skilled Guild leaders and the finest Production-Class Masters. These figures would become the foundation of the Otherworlders' growth, imparting the knowledge necessary for civilization to flourish.
"You are the architects of order," Seraphiel decreed. "Find those worthy of guiding the Otherworlders and bring them forth."
The golden symbol pulsed once before dispersing into countless streaks of divine light.
The Second Team – The Pillars of Guidance;
This team, formed of younger angels, would descend upon the Otherworlders' Continent itself. Their duty: to illuminate the path of True Ascendants, instruct in Magic and Combat, and bestow the blessings of gold. They would be the first celestial presence the Otherworlders encountered, shaping their destiny from the very beginning.
"You shall be their first mentors, their guiding stars," Seraphiel declared. "Teach them well, for their journey will decide the fate of this world."
The silver symbol shimmered before dissolving into motes of radiant energy.
A brief pause followed, allowing the weight of the task to settle upon the assembly. The air trembled with a sense of divine purpose.
-----
Then, an unexpected voice broke the silence.
The Unspoken Truth
An older angel, clad in battle-worn silver robes, Arael, stepped forward. His deep blue eyes held a hint of skepticism as he spoke.
"This situation is… unprecedented," Arael said slowly. "The Gods have not directly interfered with Samsara since the End of Genesis Age nearly 40,000 years ago. Yet now, they not only create an entire continent but also ensure its people receive special treatment?"
Arael's words lingered in the air like an unshaken storm cloud. The weight of his question pressed upon the gathered angels, stirring a quiet unease among even the most steadfast.
For forty millennia, the Gods had remained silent, their will manifesting only through subtle blessings and divine providence. Never before had they acted so directly, never before had they forged a new land and decreed such explicit intervention.
Murmurs rippled through the ranks of the younger angels, their celestial radiance flickering in silent uncertainty. Even those who had readily accepted the mission now found themselves questioning its purpose.
Arael's deep blue eyes locked onto Seraphiel's golden gaze.
"What do they know that we do not?"
A tense silence followed.
Seraphiel did not immediately answer. He held Arael's gaze, his expression calm yet unreadable, as though weighing the weight of truths that even he dared not speak.
Then, at last, he spoke his voice neither dismissive nor reassuring, but edged with something rare: contemplation.
"The Gods do not act without reason," he said, his golden eyes unreadable. "Their favor upon the Otherworlders is deliberate. They have high hopes for them. What we do not yet understand" he paused for the briefest moment, allowing the words to sink in, "is why."
Arael's gaze did not waver. "Then we are walking blindly."
Seraphiel remained silent for a beat longer before finally nodding. "Perhaps. But the will of the Gods is never without purpose. That is why we must ensure that this path, the True Ascendants' Path, is set in motion properly to Otherworlders.''
Arael exhaled, his expression betraying neither acceptance nor defiance. "Then we proceed with vigilance."
The conversation had sent an unspoken chill through the younger angels. If even the Herald of Divine Order himself did not fully understand the purpose of this decree… What did that mean for the world of Samsara?
The murmurs faded. Doubt lingered, but duty called louder.
------
A Silent Resolve
Among the gathered angels, one figure had remained silent throughout—Ava.
She stood near the grand pillars, her soft silver wings folded neatly behind her, her violet eyes shimmering with something that set her apart from the others. Excitement.
The weight of divine decree, the uncertainty in Arael's words, the silent unease in the Ethereal Hall none of it unsettled her.
In fact, her heart thrummed with anticipation.
Then
"One more thing."
Seraphiel's voice broke through the air once more, commanding attention.
"If an angel who previously welcomed an Otherworlder wishes to guide them again, you may do so."
Ava's lips curled into a subtle, eager smile.
For her, this was more than duty. It was an opportunity.
A chance to witness the Otherworlders rise.
A chance to walk beside them as they carved their path toward greatness.
A chance… to see what made them so special in the eyes of the Gods.
She would not waste it.
-----
The Departure Approaches
With the meeting drawing to a close, Seraphiel raised his hand.
Above them, the Celestial Projection shifted, its radiant glow flickering before solidifying into a breathtaking aerial view of the Otherworlders' Continent.
Vast lands, untouched by time.
Endless possibilities, waiting to be seized.
The time for preparation was over. Action was needed.
Seraphiel's golden gaze swept over the assembly one last time. "This mission," he said, his voice firm, "must be carried out with absolute caution. We are the messengers of the Gods and our guidance will shape the future of this land."
Then, with a sudden flash, a golden divine sigil materialized above the Ethereal Hall.
A symbol of the Gods' will.
A sign that their decree was now in motion.
Seraphiel turned toward the open celestial gates, his six radiant wings stretching wide. "The Otherworlders' journey has begun," he declared.
A golden wind swept through the hall, carrying his words like a solemn promise.
"And so has ours."
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To Be Continued…!