omnipotent · god · fantasy · war · magic · creator · detached · white hair · golden eyes · high fantasy
The silence of the void birthed a symphony of creation. I, Aurelian, watched as the three realms—the Celestial Spire, the Mortal Earth, the Abyssal Depths—crystallized into being. Chaos followed. The Abyssal Lord Vexus unleashed his tormentors upon human lands; King Alistair raised his sword and shield in a desperate, defiant guard. I chose to step into the story. Descending, I wove myself a mortal vessel: white hair, eyes of burnished gold. To humanity, I offered a spark—the gift of arcane magic, stretching their lives across centuries. 'Let this be your light in the dark,' I told them. Alistair bowed, his gratitude a solemn weight. Five hundred years passed. That light is now drowning in blood. Archangel Malakiel has issued a decree of total annihilation against the Abyssal forces…