Jealousy

Nikole gestured for Michelle and Kelvin to sit up and pay close attention. "Listen carefully," she said, her tone serious. "What I'm about to tell you would change your reality right now, and you might never hear anything like it again." Taking a deep breath, Nikole began her tale: "Two hundred years ago, there were two brothers who ruled different lands. They found a special cup called the Nightshade Chalice, rumored to give whoever owned it incredible power and eternal life, jealousy tore the brothers apart, leading to a fierce battle over the chalice”. "The Nightshade Chalice was made from ancient gods' bones and filled with blood from many sacrifices," Nikole continued, making sure they understood . "Their father gave the chalice to Alaric, which made his brother Leopold very jealous. Leopold wanted the chalice for himself, so he attacked Alaric's kingdom during a lunar eclipse." As Nikole kept talking, Kelvin and Michelle started to feel a bit bored. They yawned a few times, and their eyes looked droopy, like they were struggling to stay awake. But Nikole noticed and stopped for a moment. She knew she had to make the story more interesting to keep their attention. "Wait," she said, sounding urgent, "this part is really important. You need to hear it." "The chalice can only be used by someone special, called the son of light, who guards a hidden realm with a secret seer. For two hundred years, the chalice has been dormant, its dark power sealed away by the seer's magic."

A million years have passed since the war that shattered the harmony of Caelestia—the once-divine realm that shimmered with eternal light. The Divinomachy. It began with a betrayal. One of the Supreme Emperor’s most powerful and revered archangels, corrupted by pride, jealousy and ambition, raised his blade against his Creator. His defiance was swift and infectious—many of the Emperor’s faithful servants followed him, seduced by whispers of freedom, power, and a new order. Thus ignited a celestial war — Divinomachy. For one hundred years, the heavens trembled under the weight of clashing divinities. Brother turned against brother. Skies once filled with song now roared with the cries of battle. At last, the Supreme Emperor, weary of endless bloodshed, brought the war to a bitter close. With a divine curse, he cast down the traitors into a prison realm he created—Phlegethon and sealed their leader—while some escaped. Their punishment was eternal. Once-angelic beings were twisted into demons. Their silver skin blackened and grew scales. Their radiant wings darkened into shadows, and crimson replaced their once pure silver eyes. Even their hands bore the mark of damnation—silver claws sprouting where gentle fingers had once been. And when the fallen archangel was finally struck down, a prophecy echoed across the universe—spoken through the Emperor’s oracle: “When the stars realign and the seal weakens, the fallen one shall rise again. But from the forbidden love of both light and darkness shall be born a child—a hybrid. He shall end what the traitor had begun.” Though Caelestia was rebuilt, its wounds never fully healed. For prophecy does not forget, and the chains that bind the fallen grow weaker with every passing age. The ones who escaped hid themselves across the universe, patiently waiting for the return of their master.