Veil Of The Gods

Prologue

"The gods live among us," mused Thales, his voice a whisper lost to the ages.

In a shadowed alley of California, beneath flickering streetlights that cast long, wavering shadows, two figures stood at an uneasy crossroads. The night air hung heavy, thick with tension and the scent of impending conflict. On one side, a tall woman, her silhouette defined against the dim glow of a nearby neon sign, wore a striking red club dress and high stilettos. Her presence radiated an otherworldly charm, an echo of love that transcended mortal boundaries. This was Venamor, the Roman goddess of Love, her essence a fusion of beauty and pain.Opposite her, in the alley's deeper darkness, stood a woman cloaked in black leather and a dark blue netted ensemble. Her eyes glittered with malevolent intent as she held a violet knife, its blade seeming to pulse with a corrupt, smoky aura. This was Discora, the Greek goddess of Chaos, her presence as unsettling as the weapon she wielded.“Aren’t you going to say you love me? Like you do to every other dystopian,” Discora taunted, her voice a harsh whisper that sliced through the stillness. Her grin was a grim contrast to her words, and the knife in her hand seemed to hum with a dark, almost sentient energy.Venamor's eyes, full of an almost unbearable sorrow and undying love, remained steady. “You can go back to wherever you came from. I don’t think anyone in California would be happy to find its beautiful beaches blackened by your presence.”Discora’s grin widened into a malevolent sneer. “I will sink my blade into the depths of your heart, Ven, and I will watch it turn black.”“Even if you did,” Venamor replied softly, her voice trembling but steady, “love never ends. And I love you, sister.”Discora’s grip tightened around the hilt of her blade, her aura turning increasingly corrupt. “I don’t even know you, bitch! You literally followed me into this ditch.”“I had to,” Venamor said, her tone a mix of resolve and grief. “You caused a gang war in Los Angeles and fled to California to escape the heat.”Discora’s eyes narrowed as she coldly observed Venamor. “I guess I did a bad job then,” she muttered, her breath chilling the air. With a sudden, fierce motion, she drove her blade into the ground. The impact shattered the pavement like glass, sending ripples of violet-black energy surging outward. The ground quaked as black veins, streaked with neon purple, emerged and twisted around everything in sight—walls, lamp posts, and the very air itself.Despite the overwhelming force and the creeping darkness, Venamor stood unmoved, her serene smile unwavering even as the ground threatened to swallow her whole. “How is that possible?” Discora wondered aloud, astonished by Venamor’s steadfastness.The chaotic energy concentrated around Discora’s blade, forming a deadly vortex of power aimed at Venamor. “Stop, Discora,” Venamor called out, her voice a calm beacon amidst the storm. “I was only ordered to kill you if you attempted to oppose me. You stand here now only because I love your life, and a beautiful life shouldn’t end.”The chaos swirling around Discora seemed to intensify as she pressed on, her resolve hardened by the corruption that consumed her. “Do you love me?” she asked, her voice cracking with a sadness that contrasted sharply with her destructive intent. Her dark eyes, though filled with conflict, held a glimmer of the love she was trying to deny.Venamor turned her face away, unable to watch the unfolding tragedy. “Then,” she said, her voice breaking, “end it.”With tears streaming down her face, Discora pulled her blade from the ground, its violet-black aura flickering menacingly. She positioned the blade before herself and, with a sorrowful whisper, plunged it into her chest. “Chaos: Discord,” she intoned.A black void erupted from within the blade, consuming Discora in its relentless embrace. The knife fell from her hand with a metallic clink, its sinister aura dissipating into the night air. Venamor, her eyes now wet with tears, turned back to see the blade lying innocently on the ground and Discora, erased from existence.The love in Venamor’s eyes bloomed anew, even as she gazed upon the knife, a symbol of her sister’s final act. Despite her internal conflict about touching a weapon of chaos, she remained transfixed by its intricate craftsmanship and runes—a testament to Discora’s power to corrupt and destroy.Venamor’s heart ached with a tender sorrow as she absorbed the significance of the blade, its runes glowing faintly. “Discora, rest in love,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the stillness of the night. The chaotic blade lay there, a silent testament to the discord that had ended with a tragic, poignant finality.