Tales of AVALON

For countless eons, the Seven Primordial Angels carried out their duties, preserving the

harmony of the Omniverse and upholding the will of God. Each angel held a unique role,

their powers and virtues perfectly aligned to sustain creation. Among them was Dynamiel,

the Angel of Power, entrusted with the strength to protect and enforce the divine order.

But even the mightiest of beings are not immune to temptation.

Beyond the Wall In his duties, Dynamiel ventured to the farthest reaches of the Omniverse, to realms where the light of God barely touched and the threads of creation grew thin. Driven by a sense of duty—or perhaps by an unspoken curiosity—he approached the Wall of the Omniverse,

the shimmering boundary that separated existence from the formless expanse of the Void.

The Wall itself was a sight of immeasurable wonder—a barrier not of material or light, but of divine will. It shimmered and shifted, alive with the echoes of God's power. Beyond it lay

nothingness, a vast expanse devoid of time, matter, and meaning. Yet, for all its emptiness,

the Void exuded a strange allure, a whisper of something ancient and terrible that even

Dynamiel, the Angel of Power, could not ignore.

Crossing the Wall was forbidden, for the Void was a realm unprotected by God, a place

untouched by divine warmth. Yet, as he stood before the boundary, something stirred within

Dynamiel—a curiosity he could not quell, a desire to see what lay beyond.

With a single step, he passed through the Wall.

The Void: A Realm Beyond Understanding

The Void was unlike anything Dynamiel had ever experienced. It was not merely empty; it

was the absence of all things—of reality, light, sound, and thought even darkness. The very

fabric of his being, forged from God's light, seemed to recoil from the formless expanse.

Time had no meaning here; it stretched and folded upon itself, leaving him disoriented and

unmoored.

As he ventured deeper, a profound stillness enveloped him. At first, it seemed as though

the Void was lifeless, an endless expanse of nothing. But then, he felt it—a presence,

immense and overwhelming, lurking in the emptiness. It was not a being in the way he

understood beings, but a force, a will that pressed against his own.

Dynamiel tensed, his divine senses alert. The presence grew stronger, nearer, until the Void

itself seemed to ripple and bend around him. Something was coming.

The Arrival of the Void Being

From the endless dark, a shape began to emerge. It did not move as creatures in the

Omniverse moved, for it was not bound by the laws of existence. Instead, it seemed to

manifest, piece by incomprehensible piece, from the very fabric of the Void itself.

At first, there were tendrils—slender threads of darkness that seemed to stretch infinitely,

their edges flickering like dying stars. Then came the tentacles—colossal, writhing

appendages that twisted and coiled and warped in defiance of all logic. Each tentacle was adorned with countless eyes and mouths, the irises glowing with a sickly, otherworldly light. The mouths where whispering pure madness and delirium,The eyes blinked and shifted in impossible patterns, gazing at Dynamiel with an intensity that pierced his soul.Finally, the full form of the being came into view. It was vast, larger than entire multiverses, a monstrous silhouette that defied comprehension. Its body was a chaotic amalgamation of forms

—constantly shifting, warping, and reshaping itself in a grotesque dance of chaos.

One moment, it appeared as a towering humanoid figure, its limbs impossibly long and angular. The next, it dissolved into a swirling vortex of eyes, mouths, and limbs that seemed to spiral endlessly into itself.

The very sight of the creature was an affront to Dynamiel's understanding of existence a

sight capable of causing madness to those not strong enough to fight back it's corruption

inducing presence. It did not adhere to the principles of form or order that governed the

Omniverse. It was as if chaos itself had taken shape, a being unbound by the constraints of

creation.

Its voice, if it could be called that, was a deep, resonant hum that vibrated through the

Void. It spoke not in words, but in impressions—a torrent of both meaningless and

meaningful whispers that flooded Dynamiel's mind with alien concepts and emotions only

with his solid mental strength did Dynamiel manage to understand what the abomination of existence was saying.

"YOU TRESP&SER, CREAT£^ON'S CHI!1D,"* it intoned, its warped tone both mocking and curious. "YOU -%RE S!EP BEYOND THE LI"@GHT INTO T!5AT WHI%^H YOU CAN&^OT COMP!*(EHEND?"

Dynamiel's wings flared with power, his form glowing with divine light as he prepared to

confront the being. Though the sight of it shook him to his core, he stood firm, his resolve unyielding.

"I am Dynamiel, Angel of Power," he declared, his voice ringing out like a trumpet across

the Void. "I serve the Infinite Creator, and I will not falter before you."

The being laughed, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the very essence of the

Void. "P^¢°=WER?" it echoed now sounding clearer, its myriad eyes narrowing in mockery mouths snickering. "YOU ARE BUT A SPARK IN THE DARKNESS, A FLEETING

GLIMMER IN THE FACE OF INFINITY."

Dynamiel knowing that a clash was inevitable, called upon the might of the Father, manifesting celestial constructs in the form

of massive golden wings. Each beat of his wings sent arcs of blinding energy cascading

outward, carving through the encroaching storm. The being responded in kind, summoning spiralling voids that consumed Dynamiel's attacks, redirecting them as bursts of chaotic destruction.

Their battle was not confined to a single place; it spanned the expanse of the Void itself.

Each blow they exchanged reshaped the surrounding emptiness. One moment, a storm of shattered starlight and darkness engulfed them, and the next, entire pockets of

nothingness collapsed, only to reform moments later.Dynamiel conjured a divine spear, its tip glowing with the concentrated light of a universe size sun, and hurled it with all his might. The spear pierced the being's amorphous form, sending ripples of energy cascading outward. But instead of faltering, the being split apart, its fragments spreading like wildfire, each fragment attacking Dynamiel from a different angle.

With a mighty roar, Dynamiel released an explosion of holy energy, annihilating the

fragments and forcing the being to reform into its massive, chaotic shape. The force of the

explosion sent shockwaves through the Void, resonating beyond its boundaries.

Ripples Unseen

Though the battle was waged beyond the Omniverse, its effects were not entirely

contained. The ripples of their conflict pressed against the Wall of Creation, sending faint tremors through the fabric of existence. These tremors were too subtle for the angels, even the Primordials, to perceive. Entire dimensions flickered momentarily, as if caught in the echo of an unseen storm.

In the infinite library, Metatron paused his writing. His gaze shifted from the Akashic

Records, his divine senses attuned to the disturbance beyond the Wall. He whispered

softly, "A shadow stirs beyond the light. Dynamiel, what have you done?"

The Father, who saw all and knew all, watched in silence, His boundless love and infinite

wisdom unmoved by the chaos. Though the tremors went unnoticed by creation, they did

not escape His sight. He foresaw the consequences of Dynamiel's defiance yet allowed the

battle to unfold, for His gift of free will could not be undone, even by the choices that led to

such devastation.

Dynamiel, though powerful and unyielding, began to feel the strain. The void being's

attacks were not bound by logic or reason; they defied the very principles of existence.

Each strike Dynamiel landed seemed only to fuel the creature's chaotic nature, making it

stronger and more relentless.

The angel summoned a shield of divine energy, its surface shimmering with the inscriptions

of God's will, to block the being's tendrils. The shield held, but cracks began to form as the

being unleashed a maelstrom of chaos, each tendril twisting through dimensions to strike

from impossible angles.

"You cannot win," the being's voice thundered, a cacophony of mockery and malevolence.

"YOU FIGHT WITH THE ORDER OF CREATION, BUT THIS IS A REALM WHERE ORDER DIES."

Despite the odds, Dynamiel pressed on, his resolve unshaken. He drew upon the deepest

reserves of his strength, unleashing a radiant wave that momentarily pushed the being

back, carving a path through the Void.

Metatron continued to observe from the infinite library, his expression pained. Though he could not directly intervene, his presence reached out to Dynamiel, a whisper that pierced

through the chaos:

"Dynamiel, you are not alone. Turn back from this path. The Father's love still surrounds

you, even here. Do not let the Void consume what you are."

But Dynamiel did not hear. His focus was entirely on the battle, his pride blinding him to the quiet voice that sought to guide him.

The Father, too, watched with a sorrowful gaze. The ripples of the battle would echo

through creation, altering the course of the Omniverse forever. Yet, even in this moment,

His love for Dynamiel remained steadfast.

With one final surge, Dynamiel channeled all his energy into a single attack. The light of his

essence burned brighter than ever before, casting rays that pierced the infinite darkness of the Void. "You are chaos incarnate," he declared, his voice trembling with both fury and conviction. "But even chaos cannot stand against the will of God!"

The being roared in defiance, its form expanding into a massive vortex of eyes, mouths, and tendrils. The two forces collided in a cataclysmic explosion that sent shockwaves rippling through the Void, shaking the foundations of the Omniverse itself.

For a moment, there was silence. Dynamiel, battered and weary, hovered amidst the ruins

of the Void, his light dim but unextinguished. The being's form dissolved into the shadows,

retreating into the depths of the the infinite Void Yet as it faded, something lingered—a

fragment of its accursed essence, black and wrinkling, leaking from the wounds Dynamiel

had inflicted.This fragment, small and unassuming, floated aimlessly in the Void before drifting toward the Wall of the Omniverse. Unseen and unnoticed, it passed through the boundary, entering creation.

Dynamiel, weary and triumphant, did not sense its presence . Though the

battle was over, the cost was immeasurable and the consequences eminent.

As Dynamiel returned to the Wall, he could not shake the lingering presence of the Void

within him. Unbeknownst to him, the encounter had planted the seeds of his eventual downfall, seeds that would grow and fester until they consumed him entirely.

Upon returning to the Omniverse, Dynamiel found himself restless. The battle beyond the

Wall had awakened something within him—a thirst for strength greater than he had ever

known. As he stood at the edges of creation, contemplating the vastness of the Void, he

noticed the fragment of chaotic essence lingering nearby, its dark aura pulsing faintly.

The fragment hovered, as though alive, its form shifting, warping and writhing in an

incomreincible manner, some times like a living shadow, just after has a black ink and

latter as a solid mucus. It exuded an intoxicating allure, a promise of untold power.

Dynamiel approached it, his divine senses drawn to its chaotic pulse.

"This… this is power," he murmured, reaching out his hand.

But as his fingers brushed the fragment, a voice whispered softly at the back of his mind—a voice calm yet filled with an urgency that cut through the silence of his thoughts.

"Dynamiel," the voice said. "You do not need this. Your strength lies not in more power but

in a heart pure and steadfast. The Father created you to aid Him, not to surpass Him. This fragment is not a gift—it is a shadow. Reject it, and trust in the light of the Creator."

Dynamiel paused, his hand hovering over the fragment. For a moment, doubt flickered in

his mind, and he hesitated. "But I have seen the Void," he muttered, his voice heavy with

uncertainty. "It is vast, chaotic, and relentless. I fought it and barely survived. How can I

protect creation without greater strength?"

The voice returned, unwavering. "The Father's love sustains all, and His strength is infinite.

Trust in Him, for no power from beyond the Wall can aid you without cost. Let go of this

desire and return to His light."

The Choice and the Corruption

Dynamiel clenched his fists, his gaze fixed on the fragment as it pulsed with dark energy.

The whisper at the back of his mind grew fainter, drowned out by his growing ambition.

"You speak of trust," he said aloud, as if addressing the voice. "But trust will not protect creation. I saw the chaos beyond the Wall. I felt its strength. I will not stand idly by and hope that faith will be enough."With that, Dynamiel reached out and grasped the fragment. A surge of raw energy coursed

through him, filling him with a power so immense that it overwhelmed his senses. His

radiant wings flared with newfound strength, glowing brighter than ever before. For a

moment, he felt invincible.

But as the power settled within him, a shadow crept into his thoughts. It was subtle, a faint

whisper that blended with his own inner voice:

[You are stronger now, Dynamiel. Strong enough to protect creation. But why stop there? ]

Why limit yourself when the Omniverse itself could benefit from your rule? You see more

clearly than the others. You know what must be done."

Dynamiel shook his head, dismissing the thoughts as fleeting doubts. Yet, deep within him, the fragment's essence had taken root. It did not control him, for his will remained his own, but it offered suggestions—subtle nudges that aligned with his growing pride and ambition.

Unbeknownst to Dynamiel, the fragment was a seed of the Void, carrying with it the chaos

and darkness that defied the order of creation. Though it had given him power, it had also

begun to corrupt his perspective, twisting his noble desire to protect into something more

dangerous.

The Watchers in Silence

In the infinite library, Metatron paused once more, his quill hovering above the Akashic

Records. His gaze turned outward, his expression sorrowful. "Dynamiel," he whispered,

"you have ignored the truth and chosen the shadow. May the Father's love guide you before it is too late."

The Father, ever silent, watched as His child made his choice. Though He did not intervene, His heart grieved for the path Dynamiel had begun to walk. Even now, His love for him remained steadfast, an unshakable light amidst the growing darkness.And so, with the fragment of the Void coursing through him, Dynamiel returned to his duties, unaware of the deeper shadows that had begun to stir within his soul. The stage was set for a fall that would shake the Omniverse to its core.

The Corruption Begins

At first, Dynamiel felt a surge of unimaginable power. His strength, already vast, became

immeasurable. He believed he had transcended his own nature, drawing closer to the divine perfection of God. But he did not realize the true cost of his actions.

The Void essence was not merely power; it carried with it the being's twisted and corrupted mind. As the dark energy merged with Dynamiel, it planted a seed within him—a subtle

whisper of rebellion and doubt.

At first, these thoughts seemed harmless:

"Creation is vast and beautiful, but it is vulnerable. Perhaps it would be better if it were ruled, not merely observed."

But over time, the whispers grew stronger. Dynamiel began to see himself as more than a servant of God. He saw his strength as the key to perfecting creation, to imposing order

where he believed it was lacking. These thoughts were entirely his own, born of the free will granted to him by God, yet they were amplified and distorted by the corruption he had absorbed.

The Fall of Dynamiel

Dynamiel's perspective began to shift. He no longer saw himself as an equal among the

Seven, but as their superior. He believed that power—the aspect of God he embodied—

was the most vital force in creation, the only one capable of ensuring its survival and

perfection.In his pride, he started to question

"Why should love temper justice? Why should mercy weaken strength? Balance is

weakness. Creation would be far better if it were ruled by power alone."

Though Dynamiel did not yet act on these thoughts, his descent had begun. The once-noble Angel of Power had been ensnared by his own ambition, his mind warped by the corruption of the Void.And so, the first crack in the unity of the Seven was formed.

Unaware of Dynamiel's fall, the other angels continued their duties, trusting in their

sibling's strength and devotion. But Dynamiel's heart had been darkened. The seed planted by the Void essence grew day by day, fed by his pride and his belief that he could improve upon God's creation.What would follow would be a conflict that would shake the Omniverse to its core—a battle

not between light and darkness, but between the very stewards of creation. Dynamiel's fall

marked the beginning of a rebellion that would challenge the harmony of the Seven and test

the faith of all creation in the Infinite Creator.

As the seed of corruption grew within Dynamiel, his thoughts became increasingly

consumed by the belief that creation was flawed. He viewed the divine plan, which

entrusted balance and free will to all beings, as fragile and inefficient. He reasoned that

only through absolute rule could creation achieve perfection.

But for such a vision to become reality, Dynamiel knew he would have to challenge the very structure of creation, and even his siblings—the Six Primordial Angels. He was powerful, but he understood the futility of standing alone against the combined might of the others. Thus, he devised a cunning and ambitious plan.

After consuming the essence of the void and twisting his angelic purpose, Dynamiel,

embarked on a mission to gather followers from across the Omniverse. He sought six

powerful beings, each from a different race, whose fall would amplify his own rebellion.

Cloaking himself in shadow, he traversed the endless dimensions, exploiting the

vulnerabilities of those he encountered.

Unseen and unfelt by most, Metatron—God's Voice—whispered softly to each of these

beings, speaking to their innermost hearts. His words carried neither coercion nor

condemnation, only gentle reminders of the Father's love and a plea to consider the path

they were walking.

1. The Warrior of Flame,

Consumed by WrathThe first was Kaelythar, a fire elemental and guardian of the Eternal Pyre, the heart of his dimension's existence. Kaelythar had been grievously wounded in battle, and his failure to protect the Pyre's sanctity had left him burning with guilt and rage.

Dynamiel appeared to him as a fellow warrior, cloaked in radiant flames. "Kaelythar," he

said, "you burn with anger because you were abandoned in your moment of need. Your

Father left you to fail, to watch your sacred duty crumble."

As Kaelythar wavered, Metatron's voice whispered at the edges of his consciousness:

"Your worth is not defined by your failures or trophies, Kaelythar. The Father's love does not waver because you falter. Be still and listen ask with your hearth and let his warmth reach you and give you strength."

But Kaelythar, consumed by rage, could not hear the voice through the noise of his anguish.

Blinded, he grasped Dynamiel's hand. The void twisted his essence, turning his radiant

flames into consuming shadows.

2. The Scholar of Stars,

Drawn to Forbidden KnowledgeThe second was Seranthis, a cosmic being known as a Starborn, whose kind was created to chart the celestial designs of the Omniverse. Seranthis was consumed by frustration as the mysteries of the higher dimensions eluded even his vast intellect.

Dynamiel came to him in the form of a fellow seeker, appearing as an ancient Starborn

cloaked in luminous stardust. "Seranthis," he said, "the Father hides the truth from you

because He fears your potential. He knows that if you gain the knowledge of the higher

planes, you will surpass even the primordial beings."

As Seranthis considered the offer, Metatron's voice called gently within his mind:

"The pursuit of knowledge is a noble path, but the truth you seek cannot be taken—it is given

freely to those who seek it in humility search with him for strenght doesn't come from power but from patience and love. Be patient, and the light will come to you."

But Seranthis, driven by pride and frustration, silenced the whisper. Unable to resist the

allure of forbidden knowledge, he accepted the shard of void. The void corrupted him,

turning his luminous body into a black hole, devouring all light around him.

3. The Empath of the Veil,

Overwhelmed by DespairThe third was Amaryndis, an empathic Sylph whose existence was intertwined with the Veil, a delicate energy field connecting all life in her realm. She had felt the growing despair of her people as their realm withered, and it began to break her spirit.

Dynamiel appeared as a spectral guide, cloaked in the hues of the Veil. "Amaryndis," he whispered, "you carry the burden of countless lives loved the so much, yet your Father does nothing to ease your pain. Why do you continue to serve one who allows suffering to flourish?"

As Amaryndis began to falter, Metatron's voice spoke gently: "Your compassion is your

strength, Amaryndis, and it reflects the Father's love look not only at the crying face but also at the smile you've put the faces of those you have saved. Do not let despair turn your heart away from Him, for even in the darkest times, His light endures."

But her despair drowned out the whisper. Desperation clouded her judgment, and she took Dynamiel's hand. The void corrupted her connection to the Veil, turning her empathy into apathy, love into hate. She became a being of indifference and unlove, draining the life she once nurtured.

4. The Protector of Stone,

Crushed by FearThe fourth was Thalgron,

a Draken—a colossal, stone-scaled dragon who guarded the Heartforge of his volcanic realm. Thalgron had watched helplessly as invaders began to desecrate his realm, his strength insufficient to repel them.

Dynamiel came to him as an ancient draken, his form radiating power. "Thalgron," he

rumbled, "you were made to protect, yet your Father has shackled you with limitations. You

know you cannot win this battle."

As Thalgron growled in frustration, Metatron's voice whispered: "You were not made to

stand alone, Thalgron. The Father's strength is with you, if only you will trust in Him look for

the cause not consequences don't be deceived look at the truth. Be courageous, and you will find the help you need ask for it and it shall be given to you."

But Thalgron, desperate to fulfil his duty, drowned out the voice with the roar of his fear. He accepted Dynamiel's offer. The void twisted his stone scales into jagged obsidian, and his protective instincts turned into destructive rage.

5. The Architect of Light,

Poisoned by Envy The fifth was Elarionth, a high angel of light, whose radiance shaped the celestial structures of countless realms. Elarionth had grown envious of the recognition bestowed upon other

creators, believing his works to be unappreciated despite their magnificence.

Dynamiel appeared as an angel of equal stature, cloaked in shimmering light. "Elarionth,"

he said, "your Father allows lesser creators to overshadow you. Why do you toil for a glory

that will never come?"

As Elarionth hesitated, Metatron's voice spoke softly: "Your creations reflect the your own heart. In serving others, you serve Him know that the lord is just and the reward shall be given to those who seek him through him, let go of envy, and you will find joy

in your purpose."

But Elarionth, consumed by envy, refused to listen. Blinded, he accepted the void-infused

crystal. The void corrupted him, turning his luminous form into a fractal labyrinth of jagged, light-devouring shards.

The Pure Dragon: Aurelius Nero, Tempted and Martyred

Dynamiel's search for the sixth and final fallen brought him to Aurelias, a crystalline dragon

of unmatched purity. Aurelius embodied balance and harmony, standing as an

incorruptible guardian of his realm.

Dynamiel, intrigued by his purity, appeared in the form of a wise elder dragon. "Aurelius,"

he said, "your light is wasted in servitude. Join me, and we will reshape the Omniverse into

a place where your strength will be truly appreciated."

Aurelius hesitated, and for a moment, the whisper of Metatron reached him: "Purity is not the absence of sin but the willingness to listen. The Father's love is your strength. Trust in Him, and you shall be strengthen not in power but in hearth ."

Unlike the others, Aurelius chose to listen, not because of his purity, but because he

opened his heart to the quiet voice. "The Father's love is my strength," he replied, rejecting Dynamiel's offer.Dynamiel, seing this persited knowing that a pure soul can bring up the most unpure being when led astray and corrupted but Aurelius did 'nt faulter causing Dynamiel's mask to

crack, and in a fury, he attacked Aurelias. The battle was one-sided; Dynamiel easily

overpowered him. "You will submit!" he roared, torturing Aurelias in an attempt to break his will.Despite the pain, Aurelias remained steadfast, his purity untainted. Enraged, Dynamiel tore off the dragon's wings and struck him down, destroying his body and, he thought, his soul.Unbeknownst to Dynamiel, Metatron intervened in the final moment, taking the core of Aurelias's soul and preserving it, hidden from Dynamiel's sight.

6. The Final Fallen

Weary from his failure with Aurelias, Dynamiel turned to his last target, Vorynthal, a being of

shadow who had always craved the light. This time, Dynamiel's whispers found fertile

ground. Vorynthal, desperate for recognition, succumbed to the promise of power,

completing Dynamiel's circle of six.

Though his followers were now assembled, Dynamiel remained unaware that the soul of

Aurelias, preserved by Metatron, would one day rise again to shine as a beacon of hope in

the darkened Omniverse.

The Accursed Essence

Dynamiel's thirst for power had not abated. With six beings now sworn to his cause, he

sought to strengthen them for the rebellion he envisioned. The fragment of Void essence he

had absorbed had whispered of untapped power—a remnant of the chaotic being he had battled, still lingering outside the Wall of the Omniverse.

Determined, he returned to the Wall, crossing into the Void once more. This time, his

purpose was clear: to harvest the remaining essence to share its unearthly strength with his followers.

The Void felt different from his first venture. The stillness was familiar now, but the

oppressive weight of its emptiness seemed heavier, as if aware of his presence. Dynamiel

focused his divine senses and began to trace the faint, chaotic pulses that radiated near

the Wall.

The remnants of the Void being's essence hovered in the distance, writhing and twisting like living shadows. Though the being itself had retreated into the depths of the Void, these fragments remained—a testament to the battle that had scarred both the angel and the formless chaos beyond.

The essence was unlike anything within creation. Its true form was incomprehensible,

constantly shifting between shapes and patterns that defied logic. Even Dynamiel,

powerful as he was, felt his mind strain to make sense of its chaotic presence. To a lesser celestial, merely gazing upon it would have been enough to shatter their sanity, unraveling their essence into nothingness.

Dynamiel steeled himself, focusing his divine energy to shield his mind as he approached

the essence. Trails of black, ever-warping tendrils floated in the void, each one pulsating

with chaotic power. They twisted and curled toward him as if aware of his intentions, their

forms flickering like dying stars.

With a surge of holy light, he extended his hand, drawing the essence toward him. It

resisted, writhing and flaring with chaotic energy, but Dynamiel's strength overpowered it.

One by one, he collected the fragments, capturing them within a sphere of radiant energy to contain their destructive potential.

As he gathered the last of the essence, he paused, feeling its pulsations echo within him.

The whispers that had plagued him since his first encounter with the Void grew louder,

more insistent.

"You are wise to take this power," they said. "But this is only the beginning. With this

strength, you can reshape all that is broken, all that is flawed. You alone see the truth."

Dynamiel's grip tightened around the sphere, silencing the whispers momentarily. "This is

not for me," he muttered. "It is for them, for the Omniverse. They will understand in time."

Returning to the Omniverse, Dynamiel gathered his six allies. Each had already fallen under his sway, their ambitions and desires twisted by his promises. Now, he sought to grant them the strength needed to fulfill his vision.He presented the sphere of chaotic essence, its form barely contained by the divine energy encasing it. The six beings stared at it in awe, their forms trembling as they felt the raw power emanating from within.

"This," Dynamiel declared, "is the key to our victory. The Void's essence will grant you

strength beyond anything the Father's creation can offer. With it, you will stand as equals to the Primordial Angels, unbound by their limitations."

One by one, they stepped forward, drawn to the sphere. Dynamiel released the essence in

controlled fragments, allowing it to merge with each of them. As the chaos seeped into

their beings, their forms began to change, warped by the power they had embraced. Their appearances became more twisted reflections of their former selves, their virtue now inverted into grotesque strengths.

What Dynamiel failed to notice, or perhaps chose to ignore, was the subtle darkness that

accompanied the power. The essence carried more than strength—it carried the seed of

chaos, whispering suggestions that aligned with their worst ambitions. It did not control

them outright but planted ideas, nudges that encouraged their descent into deeper

corruption.