The laughter of the Ancients still echoed between the shattered fragments of heaven.
It was hollow, distorted—filled with pride and madness.
Then… silence.
The dust began to settle.
A shadow moved among the ruins.
The Human Emperor raised his hand, and Jax's body floated upward, dragged by invisible threads.
His armor was shattered, his flesh cracked and glowing—golden light leaking through every wound.
Blood and divine light mingled in the air, leaving a trail that seemed to mourn his fall.
"Pathetic," the Emperor muttered, walking closer. "And yet… you still look at me as if we're equals."
Every step he took made the ground tremble.
The air bent around him—heavy, suffocating.
"I'll say it once more," he thundered, his voice echoing across the ruins.
"Lick the ground… or I'll make you wish you were never born."
Jax's clone said nothing.
His breathing was ragged, his body trembling, but his eyes never wavered.
He didn't speak.
He didn't bow.
The silence became unbearable.
The Human Emperor sighed. The faint curiosity in his face faded—leaving only coldness.
"Then suffer."
He extended his hand.
A burst of white light tore through the air—faster than thought.
The sound came an instant later.
Jax felt a burning pain on his right shoulder.
Then on his left.
When he looked down… his arms were gone.
They hit the ground, wrapped in a faint golden glow that slowly dimmed to nothing.
The air smelled of hot metal and broken divinity.
The Emperor watched him with a calm, almost bored expression.
"Still looking at me like that?" he said, his tone flat. "Let's see how long that pride lasts."
His hand moved again.
This time, the light fell like a divine guillotine.
A flash.
A dull roar.
Jax's legs gave out.
His body collapsed to his knees, held upright only by the Emperor's threads of energy.
The clone gasped, his breathing shallow—
but he was still alive.
The Emperor grabbed him by the neck, lifting him effortlessly, showing him off like a trophy.
Below them, thousands of disciples, believers, and soldiers watched in silence.
Some trembled.
Others wept.
None dared to speak.
To see their god hanging, mutilated, was a torment even hell couldn't match.
"See?" the Emperor said, his voice rising.
"This is the price of defying the Ancients."
"This is how a false god ends—forgotten, broken, and beneath us."
Jax's body hung in the air, dripping light and blood—
but his eyes still burned.
Still defiant.
The Human Emperor stared at him, intrigued, murmuring almost with respect,
"You don't break easily… impressive."
"Too bad you're only good for teaching others a lesson."
With a single motion, he threw Jax's body to the ground.
The impact sent a wave of dust and debris through the ruins.
Jax could barely move,
but his crimson eye remained open—
watching.
Waiting.
The Emperor stepped forward, raising his hand again.
"Let's see how much longer you can resist, little god."
"You'll regret this…" Jax whispered, his voice faint but sharp. "You'll see."
Despite the countless wounds, he refused to bow.
His gaze was still full of fury.
"Seems cutting off your arms and legs wasn't enough," the Emperor sneered.
"Don't cry for mercy later."
Humiliation burned inside him.
The other Emperors were watching—with mocking eyes.
Jax was human.
His responsibility.
And yet this descendant of his kind dared to bare his fangs like a wild beast refusing to kneel.
"Need help, Augustus?" another voice echoed, venomous and amused.
"Maybe I can help you tame that little human of yours. I doubt you can break him, but I certainly can."
The one who spoke was a humanoid creature with green, chitinous skin.
Huge insect-like eyes gleamed in the dark, and from his body, tiny creatures buzzed—an endless swarm orbiting their master.
Jax's clone widened his eyes at the sight.
An itching, crawling sensation spread across his back—so real he could feel the insects beneath his skin.
The Human Emperor's face twisted in rage.
Being mocked—especially by that one—was an unforgivable insult.
"Shut your filthy mouth, insect," he snarled. "Interfere again, and I'll make sure you're the first to die."
The Insect Emperor laughed, savoring every word.
"Human Emperor, don't speak above your place," he hissed.
"At the end of the day… you're just another mortal pretending to be divine."
As the two Emperors argued, Jax's body began to glow once again—
turning gold.
His form slowly dissolved into thousands of shining particles,
drifting upward like the ashes of a god returning to the sky.
The Human Emperor frowned.
"What…?" he muttered, staring as the boy's body vanished before his eyes. "This can't be real."
The other Emperors exchanged confused glances.
None had felt anything.
None had moved.
"Was it you?" the Beast Emperor growled.
"No," the Dragon Emperor replied calmly. "My power hasn't stirred."
The Human Emperor clenched his fists.
A cold shiver crawled down his spine—
an unseen presence brushing the back of his neck.
"Then… what the hell is this?"
His gaze swept the devastated temple, the broken fragments floating in the golden haze.
The dust still shimmered—
as if celebrating something only the gods could understand.
And then he felt it.
A pressure.
Gentle at first…
then crushing.
The ground moaned.
The pillars cracked.
Even the Immortal Emperors took a step back.
The Human Emperor swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady with a mask of false calm.
"Who's there?" he said, smiling tightly. "If you're an Exalted, show yourself. Hiding in the shadows doesn't suit someone of your rank."
Silence.
Only the soft whisper of golden dust turning in the air.
The Emperor chuckled under his breath, eyes darting around.
"Fine then…" His tone sharpened, turning harsh, violent. "Show yourself, coward! Come out!"
The answer came from above—
a voice that didn't need to shout to command the world.
"I already have."
"…What?"
The Emperor looked up.
And there he was.
Floating above the ruins, bare feet touching the light, his calm gaze shining down upon them.
Jax.
The real one.
Not an illusion.
Not a reflection.
The bearer of the Golden Flame.
The man even the heavens feared to look upon.
His silhouette radiated impossible serenity.
Each strand of hair burned with divine light.
And yet his smile…
was not that of a god.
It was the smile of a hunter.