Prologue

The 3896th Cycle, or 932 A.D.

1,094 Years before the Invasion of Earth

Balfour, the deity of balance was called to the Round Table. To stand trial and give testimony of all things. He didn't feel that what he had done was wrong. He had simply been doing his duty. Yet the other deities could not see the grand purposes of his designs. The universe needed balance. He had simply provided it.

Kairon, the deity of deities sat upon his golden throne on top of a raised marble dais, his fingers tapping away along its armrest. In front of him, sitting around the circular table were thirteen smaller thrones, all except one bore host to their commanding deities. The singular empty throne was regarded with a measure of disdain by the other gods. Not surprising, considering it had belonged to Balfour. Balfour knew that once the trial ended, the thirteen deities of the ‘Round Table’ would soon become twelve.

Of all the deities sitting on their thrones, however, only one was worthy of Balfour’s respect. Ahhena, the Goddess of life. As their eyes met, Ahhena shook, and her lip began to quiver. She looked away from him. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the tears which she struggled to hold back. Even she did not understand.

Scattered across the massive chamber were thousands of minor deities, each representing a world which they commanded. The room sparkled white, glistening from the godly brilliance of every deity assembled. But to Balfour, the room was blinding. Not from an overbearance of light, but from the mere hypocrisy each of these deities represented.

Balfour had no regrets. He had only performed his personal obligation to his godly commission. Something that many of the assembled deities had repeatedly failed to do. To Balfour, they were frauds of the highest order--undeserving of the title of "god"

Kairon’s gaze settled onto Balfour, his eyes gleaming with a righteous fury. Balfour could see the throbbing veins along the deity of deities’ neck. His godly ichor flowing within.

Any other time, Balfour would have trembled, and knelt under the God’s gaze. But this time, he had enough. The hypocrisy of the gods demanded it.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Balfour?” Kairon sneered, saying his name with contempt. He even refused to use Balfour’s rightful title.

“You know why I did what I did, Kairon. Balance had to be restored,” Balfour emphasized the singular word, balance.

Kairon scoffed, “you were meant to ensure that the dark never overcame the light, yet instead you empowered the dark! Everything is now off-balance!”

Balfour’s eyes narrowed, “on the contrary, nothing has ever been more balanced. The light controls tens of thousands of worlds, yet the dark only dwells on a mere dozen. Where is the balance in that!?” he seethed.

“You have betrayed your obligations to the Round Table, Balfour. Now demons swarm numerous worlds, devouring their inhabitants,” Kairon said, as his face contorted.

Balfour leered, “as it should be, Kairon. Until balance is attained between the forces of both the dark and the light.”

Kairon frowned, and his eyebrows drew together, a look of betrayal rife across his visage, “oh, how far you have fallen, Balfour.”

“No!” Balfour exclaimed, “this table and all it stands for is what has fallen! The eons have weakened its principles. It is I who have risen! It is I who has realized that the Round Table has turned against its sacred mission!”

Gasps resounded around the room, the members of the Round Table stared at Balfour, mouths agape.

“You speak heresy!” Kairon exclaimed.

“If heresy is the only way to return balance, then so shall it be!” Balfour yelled.

Suddenly, the light around the room began to shift, until, like a black hole, it coalesced around Balfour. His once glimmering white armor morphed and shifted, becoming an all-encompassing black. An unholy dark aura burst forth from its surface, and the air around Balfour appeared to take on a menacing atmosphere.

The minor deities began to flee the room, disappearing in flashing pillars of light, retreating to the worlds they governed. The deities of the Round Table all stood abruptly, weapons of a silver brilliance manifesting in their hands, ready to strike at a moment's provocation.

Kairon himself stood from his throne; an action rarely ever seen. His brow lowered, his teeth clenched, and his body shook. His golden armor began to resonate, the immensity of his godly power swelling forth.

But Balfour smirked. The gods had grown fat in their peace, in their negligence. None more so than Kairon.

But Balfour? He had fallen. A necessary evil to accomplish his nefarious mission—to return balance to the realms. Now, Balfour would show that a fallen god was not to be trifled with, for once one fell, they exchanged everything for power. Balfour was determined. Balance would be restored. Even if it cost him his friends, his family, his godhood, everything.

Before Kairon could react, Balfour disappeared into a cloud of shadows, only to emerge behind the deity of deities himself. In a devious act of betrayal, he stabbed his onyx-hued blade through Kairon’s back. As it emerged through the deities sternum, the god’s eyes widened in disbelief. A member of the Round Table had never openly attacked a deity before. Even Kairon hadn’t thought Balfour was capable of such an act of deception.

There was always a time for firsts.

Balfour had plotted for several cycles. It was only unfortunate that his schemes had been discovered so soon. He would have been able to destroy every deity of the Round Table in one fell swoop, had he remained undiscovered for just one more cycle.

He would have to settle with just Kairon though.

As long as the Round Table existed, there would never be balance. No, balance would only be achieved once Balfour himself ruled over all the deities.

As Kairon’s golden eyes lost their godly hue, Balfour felt himself strengthening. In a matter of moments, the blade absorbed the godly essence of Kairon, and the deity's body erupted in demonic fire.

The deity of deities was no more.

A moment later the other assembled gods of the Round Table advanced. Flashing forward, their silver weapons blurred towards Balfour.

But Balfour displayed a insidious smile. Today wasn’t the day he would die.

Emerging around Balfour, seven shadowy aberrations threw themselves forward, deflecting the attack of the deities of the Round Table.

For an isolated moment, the gods retreated as a realization settled in. It was suddenly clear that they had been played.

The Seven Demon Monarchs, minor deities that had fallen along with Balfour, made their presence known.

“We shall see who wins this little game,” Balfour cackled, as pillars of demonic fire encompassed all eight of the fallen gods, sending them to the lower planar realms. Despite this small setback, Balfour remained determined. Even if it took hundreds of cycles, he would prevail. Without Kairon to guide them, the Round Table was sure to collapse, and every world within the planar realms would fall along with them.