The Birth of Lesendra's Golden Hand
The night sky over Mythra wasn't just dark—it was ominous. Black clouds hung low, laced with blue lightning that cracked the silence. Beneath them, the village of Valnira burned with fear. Torchlight flickered in the wind, casting long shadows of villagers kneeling on the filthy ground. And in front of them stood the Devourer God—a towering figure wrapped in gold, exuding an aura of death.
In the middle of the silent crowd, Lesendra stepped forward. He trembled, not out of fear, but from boiling rage. The faint torchlight reflected in his burning eyes. His right hand clenched, his blood seething like molten embers.
"Enough," his voice was low, echoing into the ears of the villagers. "You are no gods. You're nothing but greedy rulers afraid of losing control."
The Devourer God turned, his black eyes staring deep—bottomless pits. "How dare a lowly human defy me…" His glowing hand struck forward, piercing Lesendra's chest like lightning. Lesendra's body was thrown back, slamming into the ground. Blood sprayed from his mouth, his breath choking.
But he rose. Slowly, trembling, Lesendra grasped a broken wooden spear lying nearby. With every ounce of strength left, he hurled it at the god's chest. The spear pierced its flesh, cracked, but was enough to draw a drop of golden blood onto the earth.
That golden blood flowed to Lesendra's hand, seeping into his pores. It felt like liquid fire burning his flesh from within. Veins on his arm hissed and glowed red, then shifted into radiant gold. Lesendra screamed, his voice shattering the night's silence.
Golden blood coursed through his veins, forming glowing patterns from his arm to his palm. His bones cracked, forging a new, stronger structure, his flesh hardened into molten brilliance. A loud cracking sound echoed, like hot iron struck by a thousand hammers.
A golden light blazed from within Lesendra's body, bursting from his eyes, igniting his hair into wild flames. His right hand transformed completely: like a divine hand radiating scorching heat, with golden light flickering like tongues of fire.
The Devourer God stared in shock. "Impossible… a human body cannot contain this power!"
Lesendra slowly stood, his body trembling with newfound strength. He raised his golden hand, stared at it for a moment, then clenched it into a fist. The golden light condensed, unleashing a wave of energy that swept across the ground. Stones flew, air hissed, and small fires were extinguished by the released force.
"I… am no ordinary human anymore," he whispered low. "You call yourselves gods? Then I will become the fire that burns you all."
With a single lunge, Lesendra shot toward the Devourer God, his golden hand striking like thunder. The god's body exploded into shards of golden light, rising into the sky with a deafening boom. The explosion rippled lightning across all of Mythra, shaking the towers of the Dark Throne far in the distance.
The villagers stared at Lesendra with eyes wide in terror and awe. His body, glowing with golden light, stood tall, his breath heavy, his eyes ablaze. That golden hand was not just power—it was a symbol of liberation.
In the distance, the Mythra sky cracked open, revealing a faint shimmering blue. Other gods, from the Dark Throne, gazed down with fury. The hunt had just begun.
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The Golden Hand That Burns the Gods – The Hunt Begins
The golden light over Mythra's sky slowly faded, leaving dark shadows hanging between towering spires. Below, the city of Mythra pulsed like a living creature, filled with sirens, clashing metal, and the roar of low-flying surveillance drones.
In the labyrinth of narrow alleys, Lesendra ran, his breath heavy, his steps steady. His golden hand glowed faintly, leaving luminous streaks on the dark walls. Every corner was plastered with propaganda: "Submit to the Gods, and You Shall Be Saved."
Lesendra sneered, punching a wall hard enough to crack it.
The sound of engines neared. From the sky, a Sentinel drone hovered low, its camera lens gleaming red. Black-clad troops emerged from behind buildings, wearing steel helmets and wielding plasma weapons glowing blue.
"Lesendra!" their leader shouted. "By order of the Dark Throne, surrender now!"
Lesendra turned slowly, his eyes glowing red. "You can try to stop me. But I'm not the human you think I am."
In an instant, he leapt into the air, his golden hand striking the low-flying drone. A burst of electricity shattered the silence, metal shards flying. The soldiers fired plasma rounds, but Lesendra deflected them with his golden hand, absorbing the blasts, then returning them with force. Walls crumbled, the ground trembled with detonations.
Amidst the chaos, a mysterious figure appeared on a rooftop—Seira, her eyes full of secrets, her black cloak billowing.
"You really pissed them off," she murmured softly.
Lesendra leapt to her, landing on the rooftop with a heavy thud. "Who are you, really?"
"I know the path to the Dark Throne," Seira replied. "But we can't do it alone. They've already called… the hunters."
The sky above Mythra trembled. From behind black clouds, massive shadows appeared—the god-hunters. They weren't human, but towering figures clad in black armor with formless faces. Their bodies radiated a darkness that made the air feel heavy.
One of the hunters, the God of War, raised a massive spear glowing red. His voice echoed like clashing metal:
"The mortal who killed the Devourer God… I'll tear you apart and light a torch from your bones."
Lesendra stood beside Seira, his breath ragged, his eyes burning. "You came just in time. I needed a good workout."
A massive battle erupted. Lesendra struck down shadow warriors with his golden hand, each blow shattering earth and metal. Seira hacked the city's data network with a small device, opening escape routes and cutting drone communications.
The God of War leapt down from the sky, swinging his spear toward Lesendra. With a swift move, Lesendra blocked it, their clash sending shockwaves that demolished nearby buildings. Fire, electricity, and shards of metal filled the air, painting a scene straight out of a box-office epic.
"You are no god," Lesendra roared, slamming his golden hand into the God of War's chest, cracking his armor. "I'll burn you all."
Seira pulled him back. "We can't fight them all here. Follow me!"
Lesendra gritted his teeth, then leapt back into a narrow alley. They ran, accompanied by the roars of the god-hunters behind them. Narrow streets, alarms blaring, and exploding drones created a symphony of chaos.
At the end of the alley, Seira opened a hidden iron door, leading them into a dark underground chamber. Lesendra's breath was heavy, his golden hand faintly glowing, vibrating the air around them.
"We can't keep running," he murmured.
Seira met his gaze, her dark eyes shimmering faintly. "We're not running. We're finding a way to destroy them all."
Above them, Mythra's sky rumbled. The god-hunters were still hunting, and the Dark Throne waited at the journey's end.