The Omnipotent System

Primordial Chaos Sect

John walked into the vast hall of the Sect, where Adams lounged on a throne, his expression one of boredom. His fingers casually manipulated the elements around him, conjuring fire, water, earth, and wind, twisting them into intricate forms. His control was so precise that even the gods of these elements would hang their heads in shame.

"What brings you here, John?" Adams asked without sparing him a glance, his voice nonchalant as the advanced elements shifted into more dangerous, volatile ones. Despite the rising intensity, Adams barely seemed to care, treating the spectacle as a trivial amusement.

John's face was tense as he approached, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "He's here. He's sent twelve of his foremen to ransack the Human Continent. Half of the Divine Plane's population is housed there. He knows where to strike."

Adams sighed, finally turning his attention toward John, though the dangerous elements continued to swirl around him without pause. "I know," he said lazily, as if the threat meant little to him. "Since he's sent his foremen, why don't I send some of my own?" A faint smile curled on his lips as he snapped his fingers.

In an instant, two figures appeared in the hall. Garrick, with his tall, brooding figure cloaked in shadow, and Hera, whose eyes burned with an intensity that matched the fierce aura around her. Both stood at attention, their expressions unreadable, yet ready.

Adams leaned back on his throne, his gaze shifting from Garrick to Hera. "You two have a mission," he said, his tone taking on a sharp edge. "Head to the Human Continent. Deal with this nuisance's underlings. Force him out of hiding, and bring him to me." His smile returned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Let's finish this once and for all."

Garrick's eyes flickered with a silent understanding, his jaw clenched in determination. Hera gave a slight nod, her lips curving into a smirk as she turned toward the door.

"As you wish, Master," they said in unison, before vanishing just as swiftly as they had arrived.

John watched them leave, his eyes narrowing as the tension in the room thickened. "Are you sure about sending them?"

Adams chuckled softly, the elements he had been playing with dissolving into nothingness. "John, you still underestimate my Horsemen. They'll get the job done. And if not—" he shrugged, his smile widening—"well, I have other cards to play."

The Human Continent

The Rivera Kingdom, once a gleaming jewel under the Lovigary Empire, now lay in devastation. Crumbling buildings stretched out as far as the eye could see, their once-majestic architecture reduced to little more than smoldering ruins. Flames licked at the sky, casting a flickering orange glow that danced across the desolation.

The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burnt stone, while the piercing screams of terrified citizens echoed through the streets, a haunting reminder of the kingdom's former glory.

Desperate figures scrambled through the wreckage, their eyes wide with panic, their faces streaked with soot and tears. A mother clutched her child tightly to her chest, eyes darting frantically for any sign of safety. Soldiers once proud in their gleaming armor, now bloodied and broken, staggered through the destruction, their spirits crushed under the weight of defeat.

The rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed as two figures emerged from the horizon, their dark steeds kicking up dust beneath them. The Horseman of Conquest, Garrick, rode with a stoic gaze, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the smoldering ruins ahead. Beside him, Hera, the Horseman of War, reined her horse to a stop, her sharp eyes scanning the desolation that stretched across the landscape.

"Damn it," Hera muttered, her voice laced with disdain. She tightened her grip on the reins, her gaze flickering over the wreckage. "This is barbaric. What kind of monsters would leave a kingdom in this state?"

Garrick let out a quiet scoff, barely audible over the wind. The sound caught Hera's attention, her brows furrowing as she snapped her head towards him. "What's that supposed to mean, brat?" she demanded, her voice a mix of irritation and curiosity.

A smirk tugged at Garrick's lips, though he didn't meet her gaze. "You're one to talk," he said, his tone heavy with irony. His eyes darkened, remembering the days when Hera stood alongside the Twelve Commandments, her ruthlessness unmatched. She had left trails of devastation behind her, conquering with an iron fist. Nations, clans, sects—none stood a chance when Hera was unleashed.

And yet, here she was, calling something barbaric.

Hera's jaw tensed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she caught the underlying accusation in his words. She shifted in her saddle, her grip tightening. "That was different," she bit out, though her voice wavered for just a moment. Her expression softened for a heartbeat, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing her sharp features before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"I did what I had to."

Garrick finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, sure," he said, his voice calm, yet there was a weight in his words. "But don't pretend like you're above it all now. This destruction? It's nothing compared to what you used to do."

For a moment, silence stretched between them, the tension thick as Hera's eyes bore into Garrick's. She was about to retort when she caught herself, her lips pressing into a thin line. Instead, she clicked her tongue and looked away, her horse shifting beneath her as if sensing the unease in its rider.

Garrick studied the map John had given him, his brow furrowing as he traced the route to their next destination. "Let's move," he said, his voice firm and resolute. "Every kingdom we've encountered so far has been laid to waste. Our next stop is the Lovigary Empire." He folded the map with practiced precision, his eyes narrowing as he gazed ahead.

Hera, already astride her horse, gave a small nod. She tightened her grip on the reins, her armor glinting in the dim light as she prepared herself for yet another journey through destruction. "Ready when you are," she said, her voice steady but laced with tension. Her horse shifted restlessly beneath her, sensing the anticipation in the air.

Garrick didn't respond. Without warning, his body flickered, and in a burst of lightning speed, he vanished from sight. Hera sighed, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and admiration before her figure too disappeared in a blur of motion, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in her wake.

---

In the heart of Riviera, whispers filled the air, carried on the wind as the city's people huddled in the shadows of their crumbling homes. Eyes wide with fear, they watched from a distance, the sky still crackling with the remnants of Garrick's and Hera's swift departure.

"Who... who are they?" an elderly man muttered, his voice trembling as he clutched a young boy to his side. The boy, no more than ten years old, stared up at the horizon, where flashes of light still flickered. "Are they more enemies?" the child asked, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.

A woman nearby shook her head, uncertainty clouding her features. "I don't know," she whispered, "but they're not like the ones who invaded us before. They feel... different. Divine, almost." She shuddered at the memory of the earlier invaders—the monstrous beings who had torn through their defenses with ease, leaving only devastation in their wake.

"But why are they here?" a grizzled soldier spoke up, his voice rough and filled with bitterness. His armor was dented and covered in ash, evidence of the recent battles. "Why have they brought their war to us? Have we not suffered enough?" He spat on the ground, his fists clenched in frustration.

The crowd murmured in agreement, confusion and anger swirling among them. They had lost so much already—homes, families, their sense of security. And now, these new beings, with their godlike speed and power, had arrived. Were they here to save them? Or to finish what the invaders had started?

"They must be enemies," another voice growled, a young man with a hardened look in his eyes. "Why else would they come now? Why else would they bring such power to our lands, when we're already on our knees?" His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, though deep down, he knew it would be useless against such forces.

As the people of Riviera continued to watch the skies, their hearts heavy with uncertainty, one thing was clear: they were caught in the middle of something far greater than themselves. And whether these divine beings were friend or foe, the fate of their world was hanging in the balance.

Fear, curiosity, and suspicion mixed in equal measure. Faces in the crowd flickered with emotions—wide eyes glancing at the horizon, lips muttering prayers or curses, hands gripping weapons or loved ones. The tension in the air was palpable, like a storm ready to break.

But amid the chaos and uncertainty, one truth lingered in the minds of all who watched: something monumental was unfolding in the Divine Plane, and they were powerless to stop it.

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