Under the burned sky of Veltrax-09, a once-flourishing cyberpunk world, fire danced like drunken spirits atop cracked steel buildings and pixel-drenched billboards.
The air was filled with sirens that sang like dying birds and the choked screams of civilians running through cityscapes that resembled crumbling data towers. Hover-chariots burst into shrapnel mid-air, plasma turrets auto-locked on chaos but couldn't compute what was or wasn't a threat anymore.
The sky was being torn open by thousands of starships, darting like metallic hornets across the war-torn planet's surface.
They zipped, swerved and unleashed quantum lances that scorched entire city blocks. Anti-gravity mechas lined the streets like iron titans, their steel arms glowing with synthetic divinity, pounding against the rubble-strewn ground in rhythmic slaughter.
Digital gods born from coding temples fought in squads. They engaged in aerial combat with sabers that clashed with such fury that even the earth trembled beneath their sparks.
And then the sky cracked.
A soundless rupture carved across the stratosphere as if reality itself had been drawn open. The war paused. Missiles halted mid-flight. Turrets ceased. AI combatants glitched and knelt. Starships stalled in place like toys suspended in honey.
From that unfathomable void in the sky, a wound torn into the very skin of the dimension, they descended.
Three figures emerged, radiating destruction, gliding down from the heavens not like invaders, but like entitled owners returning home.
The first to be seen was the woman floating mid-air, her presence rippling across the skyline like a whisper of ancient language, velvet and venom. She had amethyst hair that whipped against cosmic winds, and in her hand was an orb gone insane.
Greshina Emberforge Richinaria.
Primordial Goddess of Poison. Draped in a silk war dress that shimmered like the surface of a poisoned lake, she twirled the orb between her fingers as if it were a bauble.
"Honestly," she said in her unmistakable noble drawl, her voice lined with aristocratic British cadence. "This world's color palette is ghastly. Grey and neon? How… pedestrian."
With an exhale of sheer boredom, she flicked her wrist.
The violet orb quintupled in size in a flash before it plummeted into the battlefield like a divine verdict.
It hit with no explosion.
There was silence. Then boiling. Then screams. Then melting.
The ground blistered. The air bubbled. The moment it touched down, it let out a muffled squelch and a noxious, luminous fog of violet vapor burst outward. Skin melted like wax. Metal corroded into strands of liquid mercury. Steel-titan mechas began to cry literally as their AI cores combusted from the inside.
All who breathed.it dissolved into sloshing puddles of technorganic mush. And from above, two other goddesses floated beside her.
Elyonari Mintheris Richinaria, Primordial Goddess of Nature twisted with dominion, hovered with long silver hair flowing like moonlight in water. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes narrowed.
"You always get to throw the first ball of poison, Greshina. It's not fair," she muttered, almost pouting.
"It's not my fault I'm the most efficient at genocide," Greshina replied smugly as the poisonous fog below morphed into a heart shape. "I just have the best fashion and flair."
And then there was Phaenora Richinaria, floating upside-down, lazily spinning in mid-air like a disinterested cat. She wore a sleeveless, glimmering war-gown that shimmered with hues of molten peony and liquid sunset.
"Can we not kill everything too fast?" She complained, yawning. "I wanted to see what their noodles tasted like. This city had floating ramen bars. I was gonna treat Veneri tonight…"
Elyonari snorted. "You? Again? He's my husband today. You spent yesterday morning with him."
"Don't act like you didn't enjoy watching," Phaenora muttered, her eyes mischievous and sharp.
"I enjoyed laughing when you fell off the bed—"
"That chair was unstable!"
"You two are disgusting," Greshina declared, prim and proper as always. "I would never make a spectacle of our husband in public—well… not without planning the lighting first."
While they argued like spoiled deities at a brunch table, entire city blocks collapsed beneath them. A skyscraper tried to reboot a quantum defense system until Phaenora flicked a fingernail at it and it imploded, sucking in the surrounding buildings like paper into a blackhole vacuum.
Elyonari, in protest to Greshina's earlier slaughter, summoned a horde of flowers that exploded with pollen, igniting a forest of devastation right in the downtown district.
Still, they hovered, still radiant, still arguing over who was going to lie next to Vastarael tonight.
Until the atmosphere changed. The warmth vanished.
The fog curled inward, the city's flickering lights dimmed and their very bones felt the chill run up their spines. Yes, even Primordial Gods shuddered.
A new presence had arrived.
Flames danced like serpents across the sky, as if each flame were conscious of its own divinity. Space bent around her.
From the same portal above descended the one name they all knew, feared, and adored, like a ghost story that wore heels.
Adelasta Richinaria.
The Queen. Their sister-wife. And the only being in existence who made all three of them behave.
Her body was wrapped in flames that didn't burn but judged. They curled around her like royal sashes, her long crimson hair untouched by the chaos around her. Her eyes were a void made of frost and fire both. One look could make even stars lower their brightness in respect.
She landed gently. The three goddesses froze mid-hover.
"…Hello Adelasta," Greshina said, clasping her hands in front of her like a schoolgirl caught skipping divine lessons.
"You're glowing today," Phaenora said with an awkward smile, her wings twitching in panic.
"Didn't know you were coming!" Elyonari squeaked, already dispelling her explosive pollen field.
Adelasta simply stared at them, fire licking up her shoulders, her lips pressed into a line of royal disappointment.
"...I was with Veneri," she said flatly, her voice like molten glacier. "And he was trying to sleep."
"Oh," Greshina murmured. "We weren't… loud."
"You nuked a city in poison, Greshina."
"I was gentle."
"You vaporized the east continent. With style," she added, sarcastically mimicking Greshina's tone.
Phaenora raised a hand. "Okay, okay, let's calm down. We're just stretching our legs! It's been, like, three days since we did something fun. We missed the bonding."
Adelasta's flames flickered, then dimmed. She sighed, closing her eyes.
"…Just clean up before he wakes up okay? I'm not going to supervise adult goddess's ok world genocide."
The three goddesses exhaled in relief, like children who'd just survived a scolding.
Then Greshina leaned toward Elyonari and whispered, "She didn't say we had to stop."
Elyonari smirked. "I'm taking down the orbital core."
"I call the government," Phaenora grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Greshina, do you regret destroying Earth?"
She looked at the city and shrugged.
"It's been 15 years since I last came on Earth. To be honest, I don't miss it. Which city was this again? Tokyo?"
"Osaka? Seriously, I don't remember. All I remember is there we nuked Russia and all of South East Asia yesterday..."
Adelasta rubbed her temples as plasma storms raged in the distance.
It was going to be a long day.
But at least, it would be quiet when they returned.