Prologue: Part 1

By the time the sun turned, reports had already crept through the lower wards.

The world dissolved into radiance.

Arata Renji felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. One instant, he had been walking home through the dusky streets of the capital’s outskirts; the next, his body was suspended in a sea of white. There was no sky, no earth, no horizon—only light, endless and absolute.

Am I—dying?

The thought rose unbidden. His chest tightened as if someone had stolen the air from his lungs, but strangely, there was no fear. The warmth of the glow pressed against his skin like sunlight at dawn, and for a moment, he felt almost weightless.

A sound reverberated through the void. Not heard with ears, but carved directly into his mind.

“Arata Renji. ”

His name—Spoken clearly, perfectly, without hesitation.

The light stirred, folding in on itself. From its heart emerged a figure—tall, radiant, and utterly unearthly. Wings stretched behind him, vast and luminous, feathers shimmering in colors Arata could not name. His eyes were deep, like oceans without end, carrying both kindness and command.

“I am Elyon, ” the figure declared. His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it filled every corner of the void. “You stand at the boundary of choice. ”

Arata’s throat went dry. His heart pounded, but his body refused to move.

“What—is this? ” he whispered, words fragile in the immensity of light.

The being stepped closer, each motion slow, deliberate, as though reality itself bent to allow his passage.

“This is not death, nor is it life, ” Elyon said. “It is the crossing. You have been summoned, Arata Renji—not by chance, but by purpose. ”

Arata blinked, stunned—Summoned? Him? A thirty-four-year-old man with an ordinary job, an ordinary apartment, an ordinary existence?

Purpose—?

The light pulsed as if waiting for his answer.

Days later, the pull of gravity changed—from Caelestia’s crystalline air to the grit of Earth. *Reports from the city stacked higher than barricades.

When the training ended, the balcony waited—and the next move felt inevitable.

The brilliance surrounding Arata trembled, as though the void itself leaned closer to hear his reply.

“You may turn away and return to the world you know—its weight, its limitations, its quiet fading. Or—” The angel spread his wings, light scattering in countless shards across the emptiness. “You may walk beyond, and inherit strength meant to shape destinies. ”

Arata’s mind reeled, and he wanted to laugh—half in disbelief, half in fear.

“—You’re telling me to choose? Just like that? ”

“Yes. ” Elyon’s eyes glowed brighter, unwavering. “Choice defines the soul. Not blood, not birth. You alone may decide. ”

Arata clenched his fists. His life flashed through him in fragments: long commutes on packed trains, paperwork stacked higher than he could ever finish, dinners eaten alone in silence. A life of routines so suffocating, he sometimes wondered if he was truly alive at all.

If I go back—nothing will change.

He bit his lip, heart pounding.

But if I step forward.

The idea was terrifying—A new world? A destiny? Power beyond human grasp? He had no guarantees—He could fall, he could fail, he could die.

Yet for the first time in years, the uncertainty didn’t taste bitter, and it tasted—alive.

Arata lifted his head—His voice, though quiet, did not break.

“I’ll go forward. ”

The void resonated. Light surged, wings of radiance unfurling wider behind Elyon.

“Then be reborn in flame, ” Elyon intoned, raising his hand. “Not as a god, not as a beast, but as a man who burns brighter than both. ”

A searing warmth enveloped Arata, wrapping him like a second skin. He gasped—not in pain, but in sheer intensity, as if every cell of his body were being ignited with purpose. His vision blurred, drowned in white fire.

The last thing he heard before the light swallowed him whole was Elyon’s voice, echoing with finality:

“Your path begins, Arata Renji. ”

Elyon’s gaze did not waver—His voice rang again, calm yet absolute.

Night pressed against the glass towers; elsewhere, the First Flame kept quiet watch.

Arata’s eyes snapped open.

He was lying on solid ground—though not stone, not earth. The surface beneath him shimmered like polished glass, translucent yet unbreakable, reflecting light from a sky that was not a sky at all.

Above him stretched an endless expanse of gold and silver clouds, drifting slowly across a horizon tinged with pale blue flame. Strange constellations glowed faintly overhead, patterns that no map of stars on Earth had ever shown.

Arata staggered upright, clutching his chest. His breath came quick and uneven, but he was alive. More alive than he had ever felt. His veins hummed with heat, as though some ember had been lodged within his heart.

“This place—” His voice trembled as he turned in a circle. “It’s—not Earth. ”

The air itself carried weight. Every inhalation was thick with energy, tingling against his skin like static before a storm. He could taste it on his tongue—sharp, electric, intoxicating.

In the distance, structures rose from the shimmering ground. Towering spires of crystal and marble, carved with symbols that glowed faintly, as if each rune breathed on its own. Bridges of light arched between them, delicate as spider silk yet unshakable against the endless void beneath.

Arata’s pulse quickened—It was beautiful—Otherworldly—Terrifying.

Before he could move, a voice echoed behind him.

“You arrived intact. Good. ”

Arata spun. Elyon stood there, wings folded, presence no less overwhelming than before. Yet here, in this strange realm, his glow seemed—softer. Almost approachable.

Arata swallowed hard—“So—this is the place you meant? Beyond life and death? ”

“Trial—? ” Arata repeated, his throat dry.

“Yes. ” Elyon’s eyes sharpened. “Choice alone is not enough. To inherit destiny, you must prove yourself worthy of it. Only then will the flame within you take form. ”

Arata’s fists trembled. Part of him wanted to shout, to demand why he was dragged here, why he had to carry something so impossible. But another part—a deeper, long-starved part—felt his blood surge with anticipation.

A trial—A test. A chance to break the monotony of a wasted life.

Arata’s lips curved, just slightly—“Fine—Then let’s see what this trial is—”

“Then step forward, Arata Renji, ” Elyon declared. “And face the beginning of your path. ”

Elyon inclined his head. “This is the Axis Realm—the threshold between the mortal plane and the higher domains. Here, chosen souls awaken their flame—Here—you will begin your trial. ”

Elyon’s wings flared. Light poured from the runes on the ground, spiraling upward until the entire horizon blazed with shifting fire.

Meanwhile, the city measured its courage in whispers and locked doors.

The ground beneath Arata’s feet rippled like water.

Before he could react, the glass-like surface fractured into shards of light, falling away into an endless abyss. His stomach lurched as the world shifted—until suddenly he was standing on solid ground again.

The arena was a circle of obsidian stone veined with molten gold.