The conflict between him, Verena, and Castiel had raged for millennia, a war as old as the divine thrones themselves. They had been arch-enemies of the Old Sun God, locked in endless battles to claim one another’s domains, their powers, their divinities. Each god sought to break the chains of godhood and ascend beyond. Now that Aurelion had risen to take the mantle of the Sun God, they came for him, just as they had once come for his predecessor—all driven by an insatiable thirst for power.

The war was more than just a struggle for territory or glory. It was a contest for dominion over reality itself. Each god sought to seize the authority of their rivals, to command not just the world, but the very fabric of existence. Yet for Aurelion, the gravest concern was how Athena and her allies had managed to slip past his safeguards. Without her hand guiding the enemy, such a feat would have been impossible.

Aurelion could already foresee the coming storm. The war would soon escalate, drawing angels into the fray, and perhaps even forcing him to enter the battlefield in person. This was a fate he wished to avoid, at least for now. Not because he feared his fellow gods—far from it. In truth, Aurelion was stronger than ever before, after the merger of two souls, his divinity Will had came into perfect harmony. 

The miracles of gods, the manifestation of there authorities, were nothing more than the imposition of divine will upon the world, but with great power came a dangerous cost.

Divinity, unchecked, consumed the will. It eroded once humanity until nothing remained but the raw hunger for dominance. Aurelion knew this all too well. Haunted by the memory of his own betrayal—the betrayal that had caused the downfall of the very man who had once saved him from the cruel reality of the world—his humanity had become weakest it ever been. It caused his divinity to overwhelm his self, unable to keep it in check, and, ironically, forced him to secluded himslef to find the balance again, unable to focuse at ongoing war.

The other gods saw through his vulnerability, as an opportunity to exploit. They believed this was their moment to end the reign of the Almighty Sun God once and for all. But unknown to them, Aurelion had regained his humanity in full now—and it made him more formidable than they could possibly imagine. Still, it wasn’t enough. He could fight two of them, but not all of them, not yet. 

The uncertainty surrounding Athena’s allegiance loomed over him, and facing Castiel and Verena, while the vengeful sons of the Old Sun God were still out for his blood... he had no desire to face them prematurely.

Aurelion sipped his coffee, the warm bitterness calming his stormy thoughts. His betrayal, the choices he made... they weighed heavily on him. Yet, in his guilt, he had found clarity—and strength.

“It was my negligence, Orion,” Aurelion finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

“My lord, it wasn’t—” Orion began, only to be cut off.

“This is not your fault. You could not have foreseen this,” Aurelion reassured him, his tone soft but resolute. “The situation was beyond your control.”

Orion fell silent, guilt gnawing at him. He had failed on the battlefield, and while his lord did not place the blame on him, it only made him feel more responsible.

“As for this war...” Aurelion paused, his golden eyes distant as if gazing into the threads of fate itself. Orion waited in nervous silence, anticipating his lord's next words.

“Do not act aggressively. Hold the line, but remain defensive,” Aurelion finally commanded, his voice steady with quiet authority. “Unless another angel intervenes, we will not escalate.”

Orion nodded without question, though the command puzzled him. His lord always had deeper reasons for his actions, reasons beyond the comprehension of even the most loyal angels.

Aurelion’s gaze shifted slightly, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Has my messenger returned, Orion?”

“No, Milord,” Orion replied quickly, anxiety flickering in his voice. “We haven’t been able to contact him. There’s been no word.”

Aurelion chuckled softly, his expression softening for the first time. “Do not worry yourself, Orion. He’s fine.”

The warmth in Aurelion’s voice caught Orion by surprise. “But Milord, we—”

“He will return. His life force is far too powerful to snuff out so easily,” Aurelion said with a smile, his confidence unwavering.

Yes, the divinity tied to fate was indeed unique, and with the blessings Aurelion had bestowed upon his messenger, he was confident there would be no difficulty in completing the mission. Aurelion had previously assigned two critical tasks to his Angels of Light and Miracles—tasks that were essential to his grand plan.

The Angel of Miracles had been sent to make contact with Azazeil’s key subordinates, Jophiel and kazimir Thorne, to gather intelligence on Azazeil’s current status. Aurelion felt sure of the mission’s success. Azazeil was the god of anarchy and rule. It allowed him to exert more of his authority on mortal realm, than other gods as the strange of his domain cames from the nobels and other aristocrats under his rules. Thats why his doamin was morr formidable than other gods. 

But even though his empire appeared formidable on the surface, it was riddled with internal corruption and strife. The nobility always was. The fractures ran deep, and Aurelion knew how to exploit them.

He had encountered Jophiel and kazimir before. Jophiel's eyes had reflected genuine concern for the empire, while kazimir's eyes burned with a thirst for power. All it would take was a subtle push—a whisper that would make them believe the choices they were making were their own.

Aurelion's confidence was unshaken. He could bring Azazeil’s empire to its knees, step by step. The truth was, Aurelion harbored a deep loathing for Azazeil. It was because of Azazeil’s reckless tolerance of the The acient god of franzy and darkness- sithis, within his borders, the other gods had been thrust into this perilous situation. Not to say giving the protection to the twins of disater, thats what all gods call the son of the old sun god. Azazeil’s ambitions could not be allowed to progress unchecked.

Knowing the tides of the future and the present state of affairs, Aurelion could make an educated guess—Azazeil was undoubtedly seeking the divine artifact from acient runes, left by acient gods through slith. And the twins of disasters, they are both just an arch angels, but still dangerous enogh to make even gods veiry. They are as sinister and unfathomable as the old sun god. It was a dangerous move to make an allince with them, one that Aurelion could not allow. 

Despite the risk to his Angel of Miracles, the mission had to be completed if Aurelion hoped to unite the other gods against the dual threat posed by Azazeil and the Slith. This, too, was a means to manage the ongoing war between him, Verena and Castiel, a battle that only appeared chaotic, but one that Aurelion sought to control from behind the scenes.

“Very well, have him meet me when he returns,” Aurelion instructed Orion, before continuing, “Is there any other news from the Kingdom?”

Orion, his unease settling at the confirmation that the Angel of Miracles was alive, quickly responded to his lord’s inquiry. “Yes, Milord. Due to the sudden outbreak of a new disease and several natural disasters along the outskirts of the continent, there’s been a significant influx of refugees entering the kingdom.”

Aurelion remained silent as Orion continued. “The disease is spreading rapidly and proving highly lethal. Tens of thousands are already dead, and hundreds of thousands of refugees are fleeing to neighboring kingdoms. The situation on the continent’s fringes grows more desperate by the hour.”

“The Kingdom of Giaria, under the Earth Mother’s guidance, has sent an angel to search for a cure. The Sky God has also dispatched one of his own to halt the calamities. But we’ve confirmed that the source of this chaos lies with Lovitara—Archangel of Decay and Disease.”

Orion emphasized the title *Archangel* deliberately, and Aurelion caught the subtle provocation with a faint smile. Yet the news failed to stir anything within him.

It wasn’t divine detachment that made Aurelion indifferent—he had simply lived through too much. After two lifetimes, filled with countless triumphs, betrayals, and knowledge, he found himself unmoved by events that did not intersect with his own designs.

‘Has Lovitara begun her ascension to godhood?’ Aurelion wondered. 

Though the answer intrigued him, it was distant—irrelevant unless it directly threatened his plans. The rise and fall of others meant little unless they encroached upon his purpose. He had seen too many beings, divine or otherwise, rise to prominence only to vanish like smoke. 

Without a word, Aurelion shifted his gaze back to the horizon, the flicker of interest already fading from his thoughts.