The sky had never allowed the entry of a human.
Not heroes.
Not kings.
Not prophets.
Mortals were born below, lived below, and died below. That was the absolute separation between men and gods.
That was why, when the doors of the celestial hall opened and Lusian Douglas de Mondring crossed the threshold, even the gods fell silent.
All eyes immediately fell upon him.
Twenty Thrones surrounded the hall like pillars holding up the universe itself. The light emanating from them was not fire, nor magic, nor mana.
It was law.
Each one represented a divine authority. Life. Death. Time. War. Light. void...
And Darkness.
Lusian felt the weight of the entire sky pressing down on his body.
Each step became heavier than the last.
Everything in that place seemed to reject his existence.
He should not have been there.
And yet, he kept walking.
Because he had already gone too far to turn back.
At the far end of the hall, the twentieth Throne remained empty.
Black, silent, and empty… except for the name engraved on its back, waiting for him as if it had always belonged to him.
The Throne of Darkness had been empty for years. After the fall of its former god, no one else managed to occupy it, although the other gods tried more than once. Since then, the celestial mechanism was never completed again.
The twenty Thrones were not symbols.
They were the mechanism that held the heavens together.
As long as one remained empty, the gods would remain incomplete. They could observe the mortal world, but no longer rule it as before.
And the Throne of Darkness had been abandoned for years.
The gods had never managed to replace its former bearer. The Law did not recognize them as worthy.
Since then, the sky began to weaken.
The gods could not descend into the human world. Down there they could bleed, age… even die.
And while they remained trapped in the heavens, humanity began to lose faith.
First slowly.
Then completely forgotten.
Lusian knew the truth the gods hid.
Faith was what sustained their existence.
Without believers, even a divinity would eventually disappear.
That was why they could not expel him.
The Law of Darkness had recognized him.
And as long as he remained seated on that Throne… the heavens would keep functioning.
One of the gods rose from his Throne.
"You have no right to enter here."
The voice cut through the hall like a thunderbolt capable of splitting mountains.
Lusian felt the urge to lower his gaze.
He did not.
Because he knew that if he showed weakness in front of them, he would die before taking another step.
"Fine. Then I will leave," he responded with difficulty. "But if I leave this place, I will not return. And unlike you… I do not fear death."
The hall trembled.
The gods fell silent.
Reluctantly, they accepted.
Lusian walked toward the Throne and sat down.
Then the Throne of Darkness reacted.
Darkness began spreading across its edges, covering the white stone like ink spilled over a sacred map.
Several gods changed their expression at the same time.
It was impossible to fake that.
The Throne had recognized him.
The Law of Darkness had accepted him as its god.
Lusian took a deep breath.
His hands were cold.
His heart pounding too fast against his chest.
The moment he did, the twenty Thrones released a brutal vibration that shook the entire sky.
The firmament trembled.
Divine energy began flowing again after centuries of blockage.
The celestial mechanism had just been completed.
Some gods looked away.
Others could barely hide their hatred.
But none of them could expel him.
The laws that governed the Thrones existed long before any of them.
And those laws had spoken.
Lusian observed the celestial hall in silence.
He did not look like a conqueror.
Nor a king.
Nor a man who had just gained absolute power.
He looked like someone exhausted.
Someone who had fought the entire world for too long.
Finally, he spoke.
"It seems you need me," he said. "Then I will set my conditions."
The atmosphere tightened instantly.
No one responded.
It was not respect that kept them silent, but the need to hear him.
Human faith was still weakening.
Without the twenty active Thrones, divine influence over the worlds would continue to fade.
The gods could no longer interact with temples, grant blessings, or choose heroes. Nor could they cause disasters in hopes that humans would beg for help.
And the gods knew it.
Lusian rested a hand on the Throne of Darkness as shadow slowly descended across the steps beneath his feet.
"I will cooperate with you, as long as you do not interfere with me," he said calmly. "No heroes hunting me. No gods interfering. If you do, I will consider it an act of aggression."
That was not a request.
It was a forced agreement.
One of the gods finally spoke, unable to hide the contempt in his voice.
"By what right… do you expect to impose conditions after killing Artureus?"
Lusian looked up at him. His expression did not change.
"After everything you did…" he said calmly. "Every living being has the right to defend itself. He attacked me. What was I supposed to do—let him kill me because that is what you wanted?"
He pointed at the Throne of the Law of Strength.
"And besides… it already has a replacement."
Silence returned to the hall.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Because none of them could deny what he had just said.
They had hunted him.
They had turned his existence into a sin.
They had tried to erase him again and again.
And now they needed him to remain seated on that Throne… so the heavens could continue functioning.