Chapter 16: The Era of Khaos
While Akasha spent his time in the Dream Land, his actual body—and Luna’s—remained motionless atop the mountain peak.
The warm light of the seven suns bathed their still forms, the cool mountain breeze gently stirring their hair and clothes.
Below, the vast landscape lay in quiet serenity, the faint murmur of civilization drifting softly on the wind.
However, while the things appeared calm on the surface, the greater world of Kalpa did not share in that idea of peace.
----
In the vast history of Pantheos, Eras were not random
Each spanned exactly one trillion years.
And the one unfolding now was unofficially called the Most Chaotic Era—or sometimes the Golden Era.
However, officially, it was the Era of Khaos.
This Era was infamous for producing the highest number of anomalous entities—beings who defied logic, broke rules, and reshaped reality in unpredictable ways.
It was also an age of greatest death and destruction.
During this time civilizations rose and crumbled dramatically, wars engulfed entire star systems, and strange anomalies surfaced often enough to challenge even the mightiest pantheons.
Yet many hailed it as the Golden Era, for it overflowed with chances for power and ascension.
As the old saying goes, often repeated in these times, in the midst of chaos, strength was forged like never before.
----
Far away on the Western Continent, inside the Academy of Revelations.
The Grandest Chambers were vast and imposing.
Towering stone pillars etched with runes of conflict and experimentation rose toward a shadowed ceiling.
The air hung heavy with the mingled aromas of heated metal, aged papers, and the faint tang of ongoing experiments
Floating platforms and cluttered workbenches filled the space, where scholars and warriors tinkered with weapons, artifacts, and strange captured curiosities.
Sparks danced as hammers rang against glowing metal, blending with low murmurs and sharp bursts of energy.
In the center, high-ranking instructors and elders gathered around a large projection table displaying real-time geography of Kalpa.
The Dean, a tall stern man with sharp features and battle scars across one side of his face, stood at the head.
"The Golden Era," he began, gesturing toward the glowing map of the five continents.
"We all know what this era brings—anomalies, destruction, opportunity. But for the Academy of Revelations, it’s not just another round of chaos. It’s the sign we’ve been waiting for."
The air seemed to thicken as he went on.
"Our rivalry with the other four Academies has never been a friendly game. In the end, after just a century, we know this much—only one Academy will be left standing, or all will share the same fate."
Everyone present knew all too well that this competition was nothing short of a battle for survival.
In the end, after just a hundred years, only one Academy would be left standing.
When that lone Academy remained, it would be elevated to the Pantheon, taking its place in ruling over the Star System, while the world of Kalpa would become entangled in matters far beyond its current concerns.
A quiet murmur spread through the gathering, tension thick in the air.
One elder clenched his fist on the table, the faint crack of his knuckles breaking the silence. Because as much as it sounded like a good bargain... protection and a backing before stepping out into the wider world.
This situation infuriated every Academy to no end, as they were well aware that the world of Kalpa was far more mysterious than they had ever realized.
It was also a significant part of the reason why the Titans had been exiled so many ages ago.
The Dean’s eyes swept across them, his voice growing firmer.
"If we fail to claim victory in the next century, we will face an inevitable ending.... while one of the others ascends."
One of the elders, a grizzled instructor with a scarred jaw, frowned and leaned forward, his armored gauntlets clinking against the edge of the projection table.
"We already know this, Dean. What exactly are you implying?"
"It is time we stop being so subtle in this competition," the Dean said, his tone hardening.
"We must begin pushing the needle more aggressively. The more time that passes, the more opportunity is given for unaccounted things to arise."
He pointed to a specific location on the map — a powerful dragon clan territory not far from the Academy of Veils.
One of the other elders raised a brow, his expression skeptical.
"That’s the territory of the Nova Clan.... The strongest Dragon clan in the Southern Continent," he noted.
"They have always refused to tie themselves to the Academy of Veils."
Hearing the elders, The Dean smiled as he spoke.
"Correct... and the Southern Dragon King owes me one. And he has already begun helping us."
Clap!
He clapped his hands once, the sharp sound echoing.
"Kaleb."
A figure stepped forward from the shadows.
Long black hair cascaded down his back, streaked with vivid red scales that ran along his temples and jawline like living embers.
His eyes glowed deep crimson, and faint draconic horns curved elegantly from his forehead.
He moved with predatory grace, dark robes embroidered with subtle dragon motifs.
The Dragon Prince of the Southern Nova Dragon Clan—Kaleb Nova—bowed deeply.
"Dean," he greeted, his voice smooth and resonant. "You called?"
The Dean nodded, his scarred face serious.
"You must be present for this information." He turned back to the map.
"In ten years, the Western Continent will be the first to move... the first to strike again."
He smiled faintly. "We, along with the Nova Clan, will either wipe the Academy of Veils out in totality... or they will fall in line with the rest of the continent."
-----
Far from Kalpa, deep in the cold emptiness of space, a massive starship cut silently through the void.
Inside the command chamber, Krax, the Prince of Titans, sat upon a grand throne of dark metal and polished bone.
Through the wide reinforced viewing window, distant stellar bodies drifted—massive gas giants swirling with storms, clusters of asteroids tumbling in silence, and faint pinpricks of stars against the infinite black.
The low, steady hum of the ship’s engines vibrated through the throne.
It had been a whole month since he’d last spoken to his father.
After plenty of explanations and a few harmless lies, Dune finally gave the green light for their long-awaited mission.
And now, in just a month he was now at Tier 9, but even still, Krax knew he still could not survive in the vacuum of space.
Such feats were reserved for Star Union rank or higher.
He depended entirely on the ship’s advanced barriers and life-support systems to cover such vast distances.
This was also the way most beings traveled, whether through space or across great stretches of land.
As powerful and versatile as Divinity was, its greatest drawback lay in how difficult it was to increase one’s reserves.
Recovering it was even harder, as only those with extraordinarily high-ranked bloodlines could even begin to regenerate it—and even then, the process was far from efficient.
While alchemical and other external methods could help, the finest of these were rare and hard to come by.
So, although flight itself cost nothing, it was best reserved for casual use; traveling too far at full speed would only waste a valuable resource that could prove critical in battle.
HUMMM!
With a casual wave of his hand, Krax spent 250 Divinity Points to activate a Lower Ranked communication orb.
The artifact glowed brightly before projecting a shimmering image of his father.
"Father, I’m still five years out from Kalpa," Krax reported evenly.
"I expect to arrive without any trouble."
Dune’s projection gave a slow nod, his towering form radiating authority.
"Good. You must remember how important this plan is for the future of all Titans that once belonged to Kalpa.
Use the Academy of your choice to find the one responsible for our exile... and retrieve the important artifact sealed within our homeland."
Krax gave a nod on the outside, but inside, he scoffed.
’Tsk, as if I need reminding. I was the one who came up with the plan in the first place.’
Once the call ended and the projection faded, Krax leaned back in his throne. A cold, satisfied smile spread across his face as he stared out into the endless void.
"Only five years left..."
The hum of the starship continued steadily around him as the distant stars drifted past the window.
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