"What?!" I stared at them, incredulous. "You guys didn't participate in the war? You're the ones managing Mythica under his instructions, and you didn't even fight?"
"It's true," Viracocha said evenly. "None of us took part. But it wasn't because we didn't want to. We swore an oath—an unbreakable oath Kaleon ordered us to take."
"An oath?" Jiuge sounded genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell about this, Vira?"
Agnos frowned, his gaze narrowing. "Why do you care so much that he didn't tell you?" His golden eyes were practically shooting daggers at Jiuge.
Jiuge ignored him, much to Agnos's visible displeasure, and turned his attention back to Viracocha. The Inca god remained unperturbed, as if Agnos's behavior was just background noise.
"Yes, Jiujiu, Kaleon made us take the unbreakable oath," Viracocha continued calmly. "And what he said to us made us trust him completely."
"What did he say?" I asked, leaning forward, curiosity sparking in my chest.
Viracocha's voice softened, as though he were recounting a mory etched deep into his soul. "It happened on the day the war began. We were ready—ready to fight alongside him, to stand shoulder to shoulder and face whatever ca. But instead, he summoned each of us, the gods of creation, separately.
Flashback:
I can still see it clearly—the mont Kaleon gathered us in the Radiant Hall, the eve before the war began. The light of the Eternal Fla bathed the chamber in a golden glow, casting long shadows across our faces. It was a eting none of us expected and one I'll never forget.
Kaleon stood before us, his presence as commanding as ever, yet his shoulders carried a weight I couldn't comprehend. His eyes, usually filled with the boundless energy of creation, now bore the quiet sadness of soone who had already made an impossible choice.
"Do you trust , my friends?" Kaleon's voice broke the silence, deep and resonant, yet tinged with hesitation.
The question struck like a lightning bolt. Trust? Of course, I trusted him. We all did. But why ask it now, on the brink of war?
"What are you asking of us, Kaleon?" Pangu's voice rumbled, his towering form tense with unease. He was the embodint of strength, the earth itself given life, and even he seed unsettled.
Kaleon didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze swept over us, as if searching for sothing in our faces. "I need sothing from you," he said at last, his tone solemn. "Sothing difficult."
"Difficult?" Nuwa repeated, her serpentine form coiling slightly, a flicker of nervous energy in her movents. "What could be so difficult that you hesitate to na it?"
His words ca then, as steady and deliberate as the tides. "Please, do not join the war."
I blinked, stunned. The air seed to leave the room as his request hung there, incomprehensible.
"What?!" Pangu's voice exploded, the force of it shaking the hall. "You want us to stand aside? To let Mythica burn?"
"Kaleon, we are gods of creation," Nuwa said sharply, her voice rising with indignation. "If we don't fight for life, who will?"
Even Brahma, always the calm and asured one, frowned deeply. "This... goes against everything we stand for. How can you ask this of us?"
I said nothing. I couldn't. My thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and unease. Kaleon's request felt wrong, yet there was a conviction in his eyes that made hesitate to protest.
"You are gods of creation," Kaleon said firmly, his voice rising just enough to command our attention. "Your purpose is to preserve life, not to take part in its destruction. If you fight, if you fall, who will be left to rebuild? Mythica needs you—not as warriors, but as its guardians."
I felt my stomach twist. His words made sense, but the thought of staying behind, of doing nothing while the war tore Mythica apart—it was unbearable.
"But the war could destroy everything, Kaleon," I finally said, my voice quiet but heavy with doubt. "How can we just... watch?"
"You will not be watching," Kaleon said, his gaze piercing. "You will be protecting what can still be saved. Guiding Mythica through its darkest hour. And when this war is over, you will stand as beacons of hope. Mythica will look to you to rebuild and heal."
Nuwa's tail lashed out, her frustration palpable. "And what about you? You intend to take all of this upon yourself?"
"I am both a god of creation and a god of destruction," Kaleon replied, his voice heavy with sorrow. "It is my burden to bear. Let be the one to wage war. Let be the one to carry the bla. You must remain as symbols of life, untouched by the chaos of war."
Pangu's fists clenched, his form radiating tension. "You're asking us to abandon you. To stand aside while you face this alone."
"I am not alone," Kaleon said, his tone softening. "I have your trust, your support, and your unwavering resolve to preserve Mythica. That is more than enough."
Brahma sighed, his many faces reflecting a range of emotions—conflict, pain, and reluctant acceptance. "You leave us little choice, Kaleon. If this is your will... we will abide by it."
Nuwa's voice wavered, though her defiance lingered. "I don't agree. But I trust you." Fresh chapters posted on novelꜰire
One by one, we nodded, surrendering to the weight of Kaleon's plea.
Back in the present, Viracocha was staring into the distance, his heart heavy with the mory. "That's how it happened," he murmured.
"Kaleon knew. He knew what was coming, and he chose to bear it all alone."
"We didn't understand it then," Viracocha admitted, his gaze distant, "but afterward, it all made sense. Kaleon seed to know what would happen once the war ended. There were forces lying in wait, ready to take advantage of his absence.
Our presence deterred them.
The rules Kaleon prepared kept the realm stable, and the creatures and beings of Mythica trusted us because we stayed true to our purpose—as gods of creation, protectors of life and peace, not destroyers of realms."
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