Flames fell like rain from the skies. The last citadel stood in ruin beneath a twilight soaked in crimson, the world weeping under the weight of its own sin. And there—amidst bodies, broken towers, and silence—stood a lone figure clad in silver-white armor that shimmered with divine light.

Auren Vael.

The Karmic Heavenly Knight.

His towering form bore the fatigue of countless battles, yet his posture was unwavering—like a blade too sacred to bend. His armor, gilded in celestial silver and lined with faint red glow, bore runic markings that whispered judgment in an ancient tongue. His long cloak, torn and soaked in radiant blood, fluttered behind him as if mourning.

In his right hand, he held the Blade of Deliverance—a golden weapon of unspeakable beauty and unbearable burden. Every inch of it pulsed with karmic light. It did not shine—it judged.

He had slain gods. He had purified nations. And still, he felt nothing.

Auren knelt.

His breath was ragged—not from pain, but from weariness that no battle could cure. Around him, the world had been saved... yet left hollow. He could feel it—the karmic balance restored, the Tribunal appeased, the mortals freed.

And yet, not a single soul remained to witness it.

Above, celestial gates opened. Light poured down, holy and cold. The Tribunal called him home, to be judged yet again. But this time, he did not rise in obedience.

"You made me your sword," he whispered, voice like distant thunder. "But never your son."

The gods watched.

“I ask not for honor,” he continued. “Nor for memory. I ask to sleep. To be born again not as your puppet—but as a soul. Give me power, if you must. Let me carry your justice, if it must be done. But let me feel again. Let me forget. Or one day, I will remember—and Heaven will burn."

The light hesitated.

And then, in rare mercy—or great fear—the Tribunal answered.

Auren’s body was consumed in gold and flame, his armor disassembled into glowing feathers of metal, his sword vanishing into the void.

A new world awaited.

A new war. A new self.

He would rise again—not as a god’s executioner, but as a knight of forgotten fire.

And thus began the rebirth of Auren Vael.

“When the scales shatter, and even Heaven fears its reflection—only he shall judge the judges.”

                                                                                                                                         ~ Sky_Dragomir