Intro into the world and powers V

In the sprawling world of Xenos, the central continent stood as a bastion of power and influence. Known simply as the Main Continent, it dwarfed all others in size, strength, and history. This was a land brimming with super-factions, where empires, sects, and ancient orders battled for dominance. At the very heart of the continent, where power converged like rivers to the sea, lay one of the oldest and most revered forces in existence—the Theocracy.

The Theocracy was not just a kingdom; it was a spiritual empire, a beacon of faith and tradition that had endured for millennia. At its center rose the Temple, a marvel of architecture and devotion. It was a structure so immense and intricate that it seemed crafted by divine hands themselves. Built entirely of pristine white stone that glowed softly under the sun, the Temple's golden spires pierced the heavens, their tips crowned with sculptures of angels in mid-flight. The main structure was adorned with carvings of celestial beings, their features so lifelike that one could almost hear their hymns echoing in the air.

A colossal staircase led up to the Temple's grand entrance, each step flanked by statues of saints and warriors of faith. The doors, towering and ornately gilded, bore intricate reliefs of divine battles and moments of creation. Within the Temple's vast halls, the light filtered through stained glass windows that depicted holy tales, bathing the interior in a kaleidoscope of colors. Every surface seemed to shimmer, from the polished marble floors to the gilded columns that stretched to the vaulted ceiling, where murals of celestial realms unfolded.

The Temple was not empty. It was alive with worshippers—millions of them. Pilgrims from every corner of the world flocked here, their prayers and chants filling the air like a celestial symphony. Monks in flowing robes moved through the throngs, their serene faces reflecting the peace of the sacred space. The devout knelt in rows that stretched as far as the eye could see, their heads bowed in reverence as priests conducted rituals in the central sanctuary. The very air seemed imbued with holiness, a tangible presence that made even the most hardened soul feel small and humbled.

But the Temple was not alone in its grandeur. To its side stood a castle, a monument to mortal power and divine service. Only slightly smaller than the Temple, the castle was no less awe-inspiring. Its gleaming white walls were fortified yet elegant, with towers capped in gold that mirrored the Temple's aesthetic. The castle was a blend of military might and spiritual dedication, its beauty matched only by its function as the military heart of the Theocracy.

Inside this grand castle, down an immaculate hallway lined with tapestries and lit by candelabras, a young boy stood before a massive door. The door was a masterpiece in itself, carved from ancient wood and decorated with golden inlays depicting angels and heavenly symbols. Its sheer size dwarfed the boy, making him look even smaller than his already slight frame.

The boy's name was Ethan. He was no more than ten years old, with soft brown hair that fell messily over his forehead and bright green eyes that now held a glimmer of sadness. His simple tunic and trousers marked him as one of the orphans cared for by the Theocracy—a ward of the faith.

Ethan stared at the door with a mix of longing and sorrow. Behind it, in deep prayer, was Adam. Adam was his older brother in all but blood, A young boy who had taken Ethan under his wing since his earliest days in the orphanage. Ethan admired Adam more than anyone in the world. To him, Adam was everything: protector, teacher, and friend. But in recent months, Adam's devotion to the faith had grown to a fervor. He spent hours, sometimes days, locked away in prayer within the sacred chambers, leaving Ethan feeling alone and uncertain. 

As Ethan continued to wait, the sound of footsteps echoed softly through the hallway. He turned to see a woman approaching—a nun, dressed in flowing white robes accented with gold trim. Her veil framed a face of striking beauty, her features so gentle and radiant that she seemed like an angel herself. Her red hair fell in loose waves beneath her veil, and her eyes, a soft shade of blue, held warmth and understanding. To the children under her care, she was simply "Mother." Though not a biological mother to any of them, she had dedicated her life to nurturing the orphans of the castle, and her kindness earned her their unwavering love.

She approached Ethan with a soft smile, her presence a calming balm to his troubled heart. Her voice, sweet and melodic, carried a maternal warmth as she spoke. "Ethan, are you still waiting for Adam to come out?"

Ethan turned to her, his eyes filled with hope and longing. "Yes, Mother. When will his prayer be over? It's been so long."

The nun knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sure, dear. Adam's prayers are important, but so are you. Come, let's go to the garden. The other children are playing, and I'm sure they'd love for you to join them."

Ethan hesitated, glancing back at the door. He wanted nothing more than to see Adam, to hear his brother's reassuring words and feel his protective presence. But Mother's gentle insistence finally swayed him. With a reluctant nod, he allowed her to take his hand and lead him away.

The garden was a serene haven within the castle grounds, a stark contrast to the grandeur and formality of the Theocracy's edifices. Here, flowers of every color bloomed in carefully tended beds, and tall trees provided shade under which the children could play. A fountain at the center, carved in the likeness of an angel pouring water from a jug, added the soothing sound of trickling water to the cheerful laughter of the orphans.

Ethan's mood began to lighten as he joined the other children. They welcomed him with open arms, pulling him into their games and laughter. Yet, even as he played, his thoughts often drifted back to Adam. He couldn't help but wonder what his brother was praying for, what burdens he carried that kept him locked away in the sacred chamber for so long.

Mother watched the children from a stone bench at the edge of the garden, her serene smile never wavering. She was a pillar of strength and comfort, her presence a constant reminder that, even in a world as harsh and unforgiving as Xenos, there were those who would dedicate themselves to love and care.

After playing with the children in the garden for a while, the woman known as "Mother" by the kids smiled softly as she watched them run around, their laughter echoing through the beautiful grounds. Her heart swelled with affection for them, though a quiet sadness lingered in her eyes. She had raised many children at the orphanage, but there was one, her own flesh and blood, who was different from the rest. Adam, her son, was not like any other child.

The day was growing late, and after seeing that the children were happily occupied, she excused herself from their play. As she made her way back into the castle, her footsteps seemed heavy, the weight of the day's responsibilities settling on her shoulders. The castle was magnificent, its pristine white walls gleaming in the late afternoon sun, the grandeur of the structure made all the more imposing by the sheer scale of it.

She approached the massive castle doors, guarded by Templar knights dressed in golden armor that gleamed with an otherworldly luster. Their posture was rigid, unwavering in their watchful stance, but they did not stop her as she passed them. She was expected here.

With a soft knock, she called out to the figure inside.

"Who is that?" came the deep, commanding voice from within, though it didn't waver with the usual authority. Instead, it was almost resigned, as if to expect something.

The woman didn't hesitate. She smiled faintly, her golden eyes softening. "Honey, it's me," she said, stepping forward and entering the room before the command could be given to allow her inside.

The office before her was vast, furnished in the finest silks and wood. Behind a grand, dark oak desk sat a man who radiated power. He was the Patriarch of House Demiurgos, one of the oldest and most respected families in the entire world of Xenos. His striking features were etched into her memory—his black hair, kept neatly trimmed, and his unsettling white eyes that gave off a chilling yet regal air.

He looked up from the stack of papers in front of him, his sharp gaze immediately settling on her, softening ever so slightly at her presence. "How are the children?" he asked, his voice warm, despite the seriousness that always seemed to surround him.

"They have left," she replied, her tone laced with sadness. "Alfred, the kids are asking for Adam. When will his prayer be over?" She stepped closer, her voice quiet, a trace of concern creeping in.

The man, Alfred, sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "I do not know when this time, dear. But I know he will come out before the meeting in seven months. We must all have patience."

A soft, weary sigh left her lips, but her expression softened as she nodded in understanding. "When he comes out, I will ask him to visit the orphanage," she said, her voice breaking a little, betraying the strain of being away from him for so long.

Hearing this, Alfred's face hardened, his brow furrowing slightly. "I will ensure he visits, Lizzy. He knows his place in this world, and once he emerges from his prayers, he will join us. Until then, all we can do is wait."

But Lizzy's voice took on a quieter, more somber note as she continued, "Alfred... Does Adam really have to compete in this generation?" Her golden eyes were downcast, troubled by the weight of what she knew her son would have to face.

Alfred's expression did not waver, but the way his gaze hardened spoke volumes. He stood, walking toward her and pulling her into an embrace, the coldness of his normally stoic demeanor now softened by the warmth of his comfort. "You know why he must, Lizzy," he said, his deep voice commanding, though gentle as he stroked her back. "We cannot control fate, but we will guide him. He is the chosen one of our bloodline. The Theocracy demands it."

Lizzy leaned into him, letting herself be comforted for a moment. The weight of the world she carried seemed to lessen in his arms, but her worry still lingered. She pulled back slightly, her eyes brimming with concern, and turned to look at a family portrait hanging on the wall. Her gaze focused on the figure of her son, Adam, a three-year-old child with the same white hair as her own and the white eyes that mirrored her husband's.

Alfred followed her gaze, his own eyes lingering on the image of their son. A flicker of something that could be pride, mixed with a hint of worry, crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "He's more powerful than anyone realizes," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Not like he would need more protection," Lizzy whispered, her eyes studying Adam's image. "I know the power he holds inside him."

Alfred's face tightened as he thought back to the ancient prophecy, one that had been handed down through their bloodline for centuries. The legacy of House Demiurgos, tied to the very fabric of the world. Adam was not just their son—he was destined for greatness, and with that greatness came inevitable danger.

"Lizzy," Alfred said, pulling her gently from her thoughts. "Do not worry so much. I am here, and I will ensure his protection. The clan will protect him. The Theocracy will ensure his safety. He is the future, and we will make sure that future is one of strength and power. He will not be alone in this."

Lizzy gave a small, shaky smile and leaned into her husband's side, letting the warmth of his confidence soothe her. Despite her worries, she knew that if anyone could protect Adam, it was Alfred. His power was unmatched, and the influence of House Demiurgos was enough to sway even the mightiest of enemies.

Together, they stood in front of the portrait of their son, the weight of the world on their shoulders. But they knew that Adam was destined for something far greater than they could ever imagine. And even though Lizzy's heart ached at the thought of what he would face, she knew that he would rise to the occasion. Their son was not just any child. He was the heir to House Demiurgos, and soon, he would step into a world that demanded his strength, his power, and his sacrifice.

"Come now," Alfred said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let us leave the past behind us, and look to the future. The time for Adam will come. And when it does, we will stand by him."

Lizzy nodded, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, she would support her son, just as her husband always did. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way.

But as they left the office, a shadow loomed over the future—an invisible force, growing stronger with each passing day. Something stirred in the world of Xenos, and they could feel it in their bones. Their son would soon be tested in ways no one could imagine, and the fate of the world might just rest on his shoulders.

As Lizzy and Alfred left the room, neither of them spoke of the danger they both sensed. They would wait for the day their son emerged, and on that day, they would be ready.