Two blazing suns overlapped. A river of light surged, and from the top of the ancient World Tree of the Gods poured a torrent of Holy Light so dense it seemed tangible.
The darkness across the entire world was being driven out, yet the Holy Light wailed, singing a dirge.
Sacred, pure laws descended at his will, creating a new paradise for the light elements. But an irreversible price came with it.
Every sentient being on the planet saw the towering, broken six-winged god.
He stepped down from the Divine Throne and walked out of the light, his body as insubstantial as thin paper. With every thread of clear radiance that peeled away from him, the world grew a little less dark and cold.
A few breaths later, frost-crack patterns spread across his flawless, sacred face like shattered porcelain.
His platinum eyes, symbols of divinity, held neither sorrow nor joy. He simply gazed calmly upon all things and walked, slowly but resolutely, into the depths of darkness.
Where he passed, frozen earth thawed and dead trees bloomed in spring.
Where his gaze fell, life and death reversed, and the dead were reborn.
Because...
The origin of light was the origin of matter.
"God, why must you..."
The faithful of the church clutched their chests, their eyes already soaked with unstoppable tears.
They wanted to ask him to stay, but their voices could not cross ten thousand miles of sky to reach his ears. All they could do was grit their teeth and etch into memory an emotion they had never felt, despite surviving since the Dark Era.
Even in cities the church had yet to claim, even among the faithless Dark Ones, a heart-rending pain arose.
It was like losing a loved one or watching a dearest friend vanish. Before