Chapter 1

Silro ascended the grand staircase of the ancient castle, each step echoing in the empty stairway. The walls, adorned with battle scars, whispered tales of a struggle that had finally come to an end. The air was thick with a mix of relief and lingering tension as she approached the towering doors leading to the throne room.

As the doors creaked open, Silro was met with a warm, golden glow emanating from the room. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a gentle glow on the once-battered throne. She took a moment to breathe in the atmosphere, a mix of nostalgia and sorrow.

The throne room was empty, but memories of the warriors who had stood by her side flooded Silro's mind. There was Gralen, the stoic knight with a heart of gold, and Maldicias, the skilled mage whose spells had turned a hopeless situation into stalemate and sometimes even victory. The sacrifices they made will be forever remembered.

Silro approached the throne, running her fingers along the intricately carved designs. The weight of the crown on the armrest symbolized the responsibility she had shouldered. She could almost hear the cheers of the people outside, celebrating the return of their queen.

It's not like she wanted to take the throne for herself, not by a longshot, but since there was no one else fit for the position, the remaining people selected her, taking her many contributions during the war into account. They were a little too biased for her tastes, but if that was their will, she couldn't really complain.

Silro took a deep breath, the scent of aged wood and history filling her lungs. The grandeur of the throne room made her feel small as she contemplated the responsibility thrust upon her. She had been a warrior and a leader in the heat of battle, but ruling a kingdom in peacetime was an entirely different matter.

She didn't have the chance to really start her reign as a sudden pang on her chest made her collapse to her knees. Slowly, painstakingly, ever so slowly, she turned her head around to see a face she thought she'd never see. The evil god's face, although diminished and more like a husk, appeared to be, just like her, dying.

A feeble, raspy voice escaped the god's lips—a voice that wasn't anything like the one that had echoed through the battlefield. "Silro," it uttered, the words carrying a mixture of bitterness and resignation. "You have won. The people's will has triumphed, and so, humankind proved themselves superior in the face of my vengeance."

Silro, though weakened herself, mustered the strength to stand. Her hand instinctively reached for the hilt of her sword, a reflex ingrained from years of battle. But she hesitated. The god, who had caused so much suffering, now appeared vulnerable and defeated; even if she didn't do anything, he would still soon perish.

A cruel smile grazed his lips. "It does not mean thou are free from mine own punishment for daring to defy fate." He extended his hands, and dark tendrils extended around the room, which caught Silro off guard. Not even during their fight had he done something like this once.

With no more hesitation, she kicked the ground and practically appeared at his side in an instant, mercilessly putting an end to whatever he was doing by cutting his head off. Her swift and decisive action severed the god's connection to the dark tendrils, which recoiled and dissipated like shadows in the presence of light. The severed head of the god rolled across the grand throne room, and as it came to a stop, the room fell silent.

But that in itself was a mistake; the pain in her heart intensified once the god was slain. "A curse?" She coughed some blood as her body was slowly lifted by a dark presence that made her feel small.

"Thou, who hast defied the intent of the gods, art to suffer for it; let destiny sever thine own thread and leave thee with no future in this world!"

As she struggled against the dark force lifting her, the room began to warp and twist. The once-familiar surroundings of the grand throne room faded away, replaced by a barren landscape. Dark clouds roiled above, casting an eerie glow on the desolate terrain below.

She found herself suspended in mid-air, surrounded by oppressive darkness. The severed head of the god floated before her, its eyes fixed on her with a malevolent gaze. The raspy voice echoed once more, filling the void with a haunting resonance.

"Foolish mortal, thou hast defied the balance of existence. Now, thou shalt bear the weight of an eternal curse."

The dark tendrils that had dissipated earlier returned, wrapping themselves around her like a suffocating shroud. She could feel the threads of destiny constricting around her, threatening to sever her connection to the world she knew.

In a desperate attempt to resist the impending doom, she summoned the remnants of her strength. Her hands grasped the hilt of her sword, and with a fierce determination, she swung it through the encroaching darkness. The blade, imbued with the essence of her defiance, cut through the threads that sought to bind her.

Which succeeded in freeing her from the darkness but in turn generated a fissure in reality itself, creating a vacuum effect that sucked her in, forcefully ripping her away from that world.

In a flash of blinding light, she found herself plummeting from the sky, landing with a heavy thud in the middle of a vast, unfamiliar landscape. As she staggered to her feet, she realized she was no longer in the castle, nor in her own world.

She surveyed her surroundings in confusion. The air was different, and the sky bore unfamiliar constellations. Towering buildings with sleek designs loomed in the distance, contrasting sharply with the ones designed in her own kingdom.

In the distance, the sounds of battle reached her ears. Her instincts kicked in, and she tightened her grip on her sword and pulled the shield from her back. As she approached the commotion, she witnessed a clash between a giant monster and two men.

The ground trembled with each clash as she cautiously approached the scene of the battle. The towering monster, with its grotesque features reminiscent of the demons that plagued her own world, roared defiantly. On one side of the conflict stood a young man, clad in a costume that looked ridiculous and didn't seem like it offered much in terms of protection, facing the beast. On the other side, an older man with a similar costume, his face completely neutral, and a moustache that weirdly fitted his form.

She wasted no time and charged towards the monster, her sword gleaming in the unfamiliar light. The young hero, Mark, noticed her arrival and exchanged a brief, surprised glance with his companion.

"Who are you?" Mark called out, his attention momentarily diverted from the monstrous adversary.

Silro didn't pause to answer; instead, she lunged at the beast with a battle cry, her blade cutting through the air and severing the monster cleanly in half.

They flew down to speak to her, taking in her weird and strange choice of outfit and appearance. She had a british complexion, yellow hair, and blue eyes cascading down her shoulder. That in itself wasn't anything as noteworthy as, say, ginger hair; what was weird was the armor. It looked like a knight's.

Mark took a step forward, extending a hand in greeting. "Thanks for the assist. I'm Invincible, and this is Omni-Man."

Silro eyed the outstretched hand for a moment, not quite understanding the gesture. In her world, formalities were often set aside in the heat of battle. Still, she decided to reciprocate and shook Mark's hand with a firm grip.

"I am Silro, Queen of Aeldoria," she introduced herself, though technically she still wasn't a queen since she hadn't gone through the coronation ceremony yet.

Mark and Nolan exchanged glances, not knowing what to think of her. Aeldoria wasn't a name they recognized, and the concept of a queen ruling over a kingdom was a relic from the past. Clearly, she was just a lunatic rambling or someone trying to pull their leg.

The conversation was cut short by someone shouting in anger. "Omni-Man!" The newcomer wore a mostly blue outfit, and thanks to Invincible whispering his name, she now knew he was called Inmortal.

Inmortal's eyes narrowed as he approached, sizing up the situation. Ignoring the fallen monster, he punched Omni-Man in the face and flew away with him.

Silro stood there, stunned by the suddenness of the action. She glanced at Invincible, who seemed equally bewildered by Inmortal's unexpected attack on Omni-Man. She briefly wondered if she should intervene or not. Omni-Man fighting that demon was an indication that he could be good, but the Inmortal's anger felt righteous.

She briefly chastised herself for only thinking with her head when she was supposed to protect and keep humans alive. The clash between Omni-Man and Immortal intensified, their blows echoing through the landscape. Sensing the gravity of the situation, she decided to intervene.

She flew towards the two battling superheroes, her armor twinkling as she moved. With a swift motion, she positioned herself between Omni-Man and Immortal, holding her sword and shield defensively.

"Hold!" she commanded, her voice resonating with authority. "This violence will lead to nothing. Speak your grievances, and let us find a peaceful resolution."

What she didn't calculate, however, was being attacked by both sides. Omni-Man to get rid of her, and Inmortal to push her aside. She had to raise her shield to deflect both attacks but failed to react fast enough, being caught off guard.

She was swatted from the air and clashed down with enough force to make the earth rumble. She groaned and slowly pushed herself up from the ground, her armor scraped and dirty from the impact. Invincible hovered above her, concern etched across his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuine worry in his voice.

She nodded, though she felt a lingering soreness in her limbs. "I have faced far worse battles. I shall not be felled so easily." Her body briefly glowed, and her appearance looked immaculate once more.

Nodding to herself, she floated next to Mark. "Tell me, who am I supposed to aid?"

Mark took a moment to think about the question. He was torn between his loyalty to his father and the confusion caused by Immortal's unexpected return and aggression. Silro stood patiently, awaiting his response.

After a moment of contemplation, Mark spoke, "I... I don't know. Something's not right here. We need to figure out what's going on." He turned to Silro, who nodded in agreement.

"Agreed," Silro responded. "Let us seek the truth and resolve this conflict without further bloodshed."

But they were slow to act, and Omni-Man ended the fight by beheading Inmortal, leaving Mark flabbergasted since he never expected his dad to do something like that. Silro, on the other hand, determined that he was an enemy to be destroyed.

Silro's eyes narrowed as she faced Omni-Man, her stance gaining an aggressive edge to it. "Your actions speak of betrayal and dishonor. I cannot stand by while innocent lives are threatened."

Mark, still reeling from the gruesome scene, struggled to find words. "Dad, why? Why would you do that?"

Omni-Man, seemingly unburdened by remorse, regarded them both with a cold detachment. "It was necessary, Mark. You'll understand one day."

Silro's sword gleamed as she advanced, her determination unwavering. "You have stained your hands with the blood of an ally. In the name of justice, I shall not let your actions go unpunished."

Omni-Man looked at her with a raised eyebrow and crossed his arms. Before speaking with Mark, he would have to get rid of this nuisance. He flew behind her, intending on crushing her head and be done with it.

His effort was met with partial success; he managed to grab her head from behind, but as he put effort into crushing it, he found himself unable to do so. Whatever light was now covering her body made her increasingly more durable than any human had the right to be.

"And from the goddess, mayst thou find the everlasting embrace and the courage to keep moving in thy darkest times." The glow intensified as she finished her prayer. Suddenly opening her eyes, she kicked Omni-Man with enough force to send him flying out of Mark's sight and into the distance.

All he could do was stare at her in disbelief. He was feeling all sorts of backlash from the events that just transpired; his dad just murdered his own friend in cold blood, and he tried to do the same to Silro when she tried to challenge him.

Everything felt like a bad nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

Silro landed gracefully, turning to face Mark with a sympathetic expression. "I understand that this is difficult for you..." She tried to find the right words, but if she heard him correctly, he called this Omni-Man dad.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ignore everything else and focus on the results. Is your dad evil because he wants to, or because he was possessed?" She squeezed his shoulder. "It doesn't matter which one it is; do you want to stop him and find him some help?"

Mark looked up at her, a mix of confusion and sorrow in his eyes. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders. "I... I don't know. I never thought he could do something like this. But if there's a chance he's being controlled, we have to stop him and find out the truth."

Silro nodded in agreement. "Then let us face him together. We might be able to release him from whatever influence has taken hold of him. But be ready in case that isn't the case."

Her hopes for a helping hand were dashed when Mark sat down and shook his head, unwilling to offer assistance. But she would respect his decision; not just anyone can confront something like this. She turned her attention back to the distance where Omni-Man had been sent flying, preparing herself for the incoming battle.