Chapter I

The first chapter of New God Rising

The sage strode across the endless plain, his cloak fluttering gently in the breeze. The air was still, save for the rustling of grass and the occasional cry of a distant bird. His boots crunched against the earth, but he made no effort to muffle his presence. He was a figure of calm purpose, his weathered face unperturbed by the vast solitude surrounding him. Ahead, the edge of a forest loomed�"dark, ancient, and waiting.

He entered the woods without hesitation. Shadows lengthened beneath the towering trees, and the hum of nature grew quieter, as if the forest itself held its breath. Deeper in, the flickering glow of torches came into view. The sage’s keen eyes narrowed as he made out an altar, surrounded by hooded figures. Their voices, sharp with zealotry, echoed through the trees, but their words meant nothing to him.

Atop the altar lay an infant, her soft cries lost beneath the rising chants. The cultists raised their arms, ready to perform whatever dark ritual they had prepared. The sage continued forward, his steps silent now, as if the forest itself obeyed him. The cultists quickly saw him and began to shout�"threats, warnings, curses�"but he tuned it all out, focusing only on the task he had set out for.

One of the hooded figures lunged at him, a blade in hand. With a flick of his wrist, the sage called upon the winds. They howled through the trees, catching the cultist mid-stride and throwing him back against a tree, snapping bone with a sickening crunch.

Another cultist hurled a fireball toward him, but the sage raised his hand, and the flames dispersed into a swarm of glowing butterflies. They fluttered harmlessly around him before dissipating into the air.

A third cultist charged from the side, but the sage stomped his foot, and the ground beneath the attacker turned to liquid, swallowing him whole before solidifying again, leaving nothing but a smooth patch of earth where the man had been.

The others hesitated, fear now apparent in their movements. The sage raised both hands, his fingers moving in intricate patterns. The air shimmered, and from the treetops chains descended like serpents. They wrapped around the remaining cultists, tightening with each breath. Panicked cries escaped their lips as the chains lifted them off the ground. With a snap of the sage’s fingers, the chains constricted, and the cultists' bodies snapped in unison, their final sounds a chorus of screams before the chains dragged them away.

The torches around the altar flickered, their flames sputtering as if in reverence to the sage’s power. Silence settled over the clearing, broken only by the soft whimper of the infant. The sage approached the altar, his stern gaze softening as he took in the sight of the child. A baby girl, no older than a few months, lay swaddled in ragged cloth. But what caught his attention were her ears�"small, pointed, and furry. Cat ears. A twitch from beneath the blanket revealed a tail, flicking nervously in the cool night air.

The sage said nothing of her biology, rather he reached into his pouch, fingers brushing against the smooth, cold surface of a cube. Pulling it free, he held the object aloft, a translucent blue cube, crackling with cosmic energy. Stars seemed to swirl within it, like a piece of the universe contained in his palm. He muttered an ancient word under his breath, and the cube pulsed with light.

Before him, the air shimmered and split open, revealing a swirling portal of stars and galaxies�"a gateway to another world. The sage cradled the infant in his arms, careful not to disturb her further, and stepped through the portal.

In an instant, they emerged on the rooftop of a bustling city. The hum of life filled the air�"cars honking, distant voices shouting, the hum of neon signs flickering in the night. The contrast was stark, but the sage remained unfazed, his boots clicking against the concrete roof as he looked out over the urban sprawl.

Tall apartment buildings lined the streets below, their windows glowing with warm light. Small businesses dotted the block, their signs flashing in different colors as the city moved without pause. The sage glanced down at the infant, who had stopped crying, her wide eyes now taking in the new sights.

With a sigh, he tucked the blue cube back into his pouch and began walking toward the rooftop door. His hand hovered above the baby's small head, as if to offer some silent reassurance. The door creaked open as he descended the stairs, the sounds of the city growing louder with each step.

His mind raced with questions, but for now, he remained focused on the present. There was much to unravel about this child and her future, but that would come later. For now, they were safe.