Chronicles of Verek

The silence that followed Ezekiel's words pressed down on Varek like the weight of an endless sky. His breath came slow, shallow, as though the air itself was suffocating him. The revelation felt like a thousand storms battering against his mind, each one more violent than the last. His thoughts spun in chaotic circles, crashing against each other in a desperate attempt to make sense of the flood of truth that had just washed over him. The gods had lied to him. They had made him their weapon, their tool—nothing more. And worse, they had kept his very essence hidden from him, shaping him into something he was never meant to be.

A pawn in their eternal game.

But the truth went deeper still. It clawed at him from every angle, bleeding into the very core of his being. He wasn't just Azaroth's son. He wasn't just a child born of storms and fury. He was the blood of death itself, a lineage tied to forces so ancient, so dark, that even the gods had trembled in fear.

Azaroth had been no god of war, no mere harbinger of destruction. He had been the God of Death. And now, Varek carried that dark legacy, buried deep within his veins, hidden even from him by the very gods who had feared it. The gods had woven lies and deception around his birth, spinning a false narrative to mask the truth.

The Shattered One. They had called him that. But why? What did it mean?

The weight of the name pressed against him, heavy and suffocating. Ezekiel's words echoed in his mind, but they didn't bring clarity—they only deepened the shadows of doubt that had already taken root.

"You are the Shattered One, Varek."

But Varek wasn't just shattered. He was broken in ways that even he couldn't understand. The world he had fought for, the gods he had served, had all been lies. And the sister he had never known, the sister whose blood had been stolen to unlock a power beyond comprehension, was the very key to the destruction of everything.

The gods had taken her from him. And now she was lost to him, a prisoner in the hands of the Shadow God, whose dark power grew stronger with each passing day.

Varek's fists clenched at his sides, the fury inside him igniting once more. But this time, it was different. The rage didn't feel like the familiar storm he had always known. It felt darker, deeper. More dangerous.

Zera's voice broke through the storm in his mind, quiet but certain. "The gods have kept you in the dark, Varek. They have hidden the truth of your bloodline from you. They thought you would never find out. They thought you would be their puppet forever."

"Puppet," Varek muttered under his breath, his voice thick with anger. He turned away from the two of them, staring into the flickering shadows that danced along the walls of the cave. "That's all I've been, isn't it? A puppet for their twisted games."

He wanted to scream. To destroy everything around him. To tear the gods from their thrones and make them pay for the lies they had fed him. But no matter how hard he fought against it, he couldn't escape the truth: He had been born for this. For destruction. For pain. For a fate that had been sealed before he even drew his first breath.

"I was never meant to be free, was I?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like the weight of the world was behind the words. "I was always meant to be their weapon."

Zera's voice softened, a touch of pity in her tone. "The gods feared what you could become, Varek. And so they chained you. They bound you with lies and illusions. But they made a mistake. They underestimated you."

He could feel the storm inside him rising once more, but it was different now. It wasn't just the fury of Azaroth's blood—it was something darker. Something deeper. Something that gnawed at him from the inside, pulling at the very edges of his soul.

"You're wrong," Varek said, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. "I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to be."

Ezekiel's eyes locked onto his, the weight of centuries of knowledge behind them. "That's the problem, Varek. You've spent your life trying to be something they told you you were. A weapon. A servant. A tool. But that's not who you are. You are the Shattered One, yes. But that means more than just destruction. It means you can break free from their control. You can destroy the world they've built. Or you can rebuild it. The choice is yours."

Varek closed his eyes, feeling the tears he refused to shed burn against his eyelids. He had spent so long fighting for something that wasn't even real. The gods had never been on his side. They had never cared for him. He had been a pawn in their eternal game, a tool to manipulate and discard when the time came.

But now, they had crossed a line. They had stolen his sister. They had used her bloodline as the key to something far worse than he could imagine.

Zera spoke again, her voice quiet, but it carried a weight of finality. "The Shadow God will come for you, Varek. He will come for your sister. He will come for the key. And when he does, you will have to face him. You will have to face everything the gods have hidden from you."

Varek turned back to face her, his blue eyes burning with a fire he could not contain. "I will face him. And I will make them all pay."

The storm within him raged. It was as though the very essence of his being was on fire. A fire that had been lit by the gods, but now burned for him alone. He could feel it—the power rising within him, feeding on his fury and sorrow. He had always been a weapon, a tool in the hands of gods who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end. But now…

Now, he was something more.

He would find his sister. He would tear down the gods' lies, burn their thrones to the ground. And when the storm inside him broke free, it would be a storm that no one—not even the gods—could contain.

Zera's voice was the last thing he heard as he turned away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "You will have to choose, Varek. The world is waiting for you."

He didn't answer her. He couldn't. Not yet.

The choice was still far too heavy. The world, the gods, his sister—they all hung in the balance. But one thing was certain: Varek was done being a puppet.

And when the time came, he would shatter everything. Verek was now controlled by the God of balance and order he attack Ezekiel without his own knowledge as he was now manipulated