The Winged Ones, once incomparably glorious, had actually fallen to this state...
Iver looked at Great Chieftain Ero, who knelt before him as if worshiping a god, and sighed again.
He recalled the distant past...
In the most glorious age of the Winged Ones, whether they were the Elves, the Mammalian Ones, or the Atlanteans, the Scaled Ones, they had merely been servants of the Winged Ones.
The Winged Angel, who had ascended to godhood by slaying the Heaven-Eating Behemoth Nibiru in his mortal form; the Supreme Heaven and the Sage of Wisdom into whom he had split; the perfect and supreme Ninth Pillar God, Amber; the Fallen Angel, whose wings and body had been tricked away by the Ring Angel... and the Ring Angel, who had obtained half of Lucifer's power and ascended, transforming from a Scaled One into a Winged Serpent.
All of these great beings had been Winged Ones!
Yet despite possessing so many winged gods, the Winged Ones had fallen into this savage and primitive state, degenerating into Harpies who could not survive without harming others.
It was as if they had been imbued with the power of the Supreme Heaven, becoming reckless and savage, while inheriting the desire to eat humans from the Heaven-Eating Behemoth;
As if the Sage of Wisdom had sealed away their intelligence, leaving the Winged Ones—the ancient race of the greatest spellcasters—with only a handful of sages who had spontaneously mutated to develop an aptitude for the Path of Wisdom;
As if they had been seduced by the Fallen Angel and become depraved and sinful; as if they had been deceived by the Ring Angel, causing them to scatter across the earth like the Tower to the Heavens, unable to unite.
--And Amber remained asleep.
So many gods had failed to