The tear closed with a sharp snap, the lingering echoes of divine energy fading into silence. Eren and Jace stumbled onto a jagged piece of land, the impact of their fall rattling through their bones. As they regained their footing, they stood together, looking out over the strange and unsettling landscape that stretched before them.
The sky above was an endless twilight—stretched thin, as if time itself had forgotten how to move. The hues of purple and gray hung heavy in the air, mingling with the air's unnatural stillness. There was no wind here, no natural sound of life, only the oppressive silence that weighed heavily on their shoulders. The horizon felt wrong, the sky too close, too suffocating, as though it was always waiting for something—an end, a beginning, or a revelation.
"This place…" Jace whispered, his voice carrying a note of disbelief. "It's… dead."
The ground beneath their boots was cracked and brittle, like dry earth that had not felt rain in centuries. Ruins spread out before them—towers crumbled to half their height, broken statues of gods with faces eroded by time, fragments of once-grand palaces buried in the dirt. In places, what might have been a street or a plaza now lay as shattered paths, choked with weeds that hadn't been tended to in ages. The structures had a sort of elegance to them, but now it was twisted—a beauty long gone, replaced by decay and ruin.
"Where are we?" Eren asked, his voice low as he scanned the desolate scene before them.
"Not the Crucible," Jace muttered, shaking his head. He was staring ahead, lost in thought, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "This is something else entirely."
As they ventured deeper into the wasteland of ruined civilization, they could feel eyes on them. From the corners of their vision, strange, shadowed figures moved between the crumbling walls, their forms barely more than silhouettes. These weren't the godlike beings they had faced before—no radiant forms or overwhelming presence. Instead, these creatures were gaunt, broken in appearance, as though the weight of centuries of suffering had stolen their vitality.
Soon, they encountered the first of them—an old man, hunched and weathered, with skin that resembled cracked stone. His eyes, however, still gleamed with a strange, quiet intensity. He stood at the foot of a broken column, watching them approach with a silent patience.
"You are not from here," the man said in a voice as dry as the land beneath their feet. "You carry the scent of the gods—newcomers, then."
Jace's eyes narrowed, studying the man. "How do you know what we are?"
The man looked up at the two of them, his gaze taking them in with a sense of knowing. "There is no god here now. Only remnants. What remains of them. Those who were cast out, those who lost everything. We are all that is left."
Eren frowned, glancing at Jace. "Who are you?"
The man's smile was bittersweet, almost apologetic. "We were once people of Elarion. A world of light, of balance. The gods ruled, and we walked among them as equals. But the fracture came. The gods failed." He gestured to the horizon, where the shattered remnants of Elarion sprawled. "They abandoned us, and we were left behind, to fend for ourselves. The gods who remain have lost their power. They hunger for more. For what they lost."
Jace clenched his fists. "What do you mean—'hunger for more'?"
The old man's eyes darkened, as if the words were too painful to say aloud. "They feed on us, on whatever essence they can drain. The weak, the broken, the lost… they feast on us to reclaim what they once had. And we... we are left to watch them wither, even as they steal what little we have."
Eren stepped forward, his jaw tightening. "So, you're saying that these gods—the ones who failed—are now feeding on you and the others here?"
The man nodded, his expression grim. "Yes. But not all of us remain docile. Some of us fight."
A soft hum rose in the air, faint but steady, like the vibrations of an old song. Eren and Jace exchanged a look. The world here felt suffocating, as if it were haunted by the ghosts of its past. Yet, there was still a flicker of life among its people—a defiance against the gods who had once ruled it.
The old man motioned for them to follow, leading them down one of the broken streets. As they walked, more figures appeared from the shadows—strangers with worn faces, eyes sharp with distrust but also curiosity. They were thin, their clothes patched and frayed, and many bore the scars of battle. These weren't mere survivors; these were the resistance. They had seen too much of the gods' cruelty to just sit idly by.
Eren and Jace learned quickly that this place—Elarion—had once been a thriving, vibrant realm, where gods and mortals lived in harmony. The gods who had ruled here were powerful, wise, and revered. But after the fracture, everything changed. The gods lost their power, their connection to the Crucible severed, and their fall from grace had brought ruin to the land.
Now, the gods who remained were weak, barely hanging on to life. Their once-glorious temples were now crumbling ruins, and their power was a fleeting memory. But in their desperation, they fed on the land and its people—draining what little energy remained in the hope of regaining what they had lost.
As the day wore on, Eren and Jace saw more of the realm's broken beauty. Crumbling monuments to forgotten deities loomed over them, while the people of Elarion scraped together a living in the shadows. There was a quiet strength in them, a refusal to give in to the gods' dominance. But there was also fear. Fear of what would happen if the gods grew strong enough to reclaim their thrones.
"We need to do something," Eren said, determination hardening in his voice. "We can't let this continue. We have to free these people."
Jace, his gaze distant, nodded. "We'll need more than just our blades. We need a plan."
The old man turned to face them as they paused in front of a dilapidated building. "You won't be the first to try," he warned. "But maybe… you'll be the last. The gods here are still dangerous, and they are not easy to defeat. They've lost everything, and now they'll do anything to reclaim it."
Eren's grip on his sword tightened. "Then we'll stop them. Whatever it takes."
As night fell, the sky above them darkened, though it never truly reached black. The endless twilight pressed in, and a distant rumble sounded in the far reaches of Elarion. The deteriorating detities' hunger were stirring again. But this time Elarion would fight back… no more hiding… war had come…