In a world covered by vast deserts and colossal mountains, a city of gold rose high. Within it lived an ancient people: humanoid beings with horns and tails. In this city, fifty million people carried on with their daily lives.

Despite living on a desert planet, thanks to the guidance of the Ten Fingers, its people prospered and came to dominate the world. In spite of the harshness of life, they grew and built numerous magnificent cities.

The golden city was one of them: the cradle of civilization and the place where the ten principal temples of the ten protective gods of this world stood. There, on this day, the rituals of the Sun’s Awakening were being carried out, as was customary at the beginning of every year.

Priests advanced in garments adorned with fine threads of gold. Young followers trailed behind them in procession, under the gaze of hundreds of thousands. It was the most important day of the year: the day that marked the beginning of a new cycle, and the people of this city gave thanks to their gods for their benevolence.

It was not unusual to see such a vast gathering, for this was the most important place of worship in the entire world. People from all regions had gathered to witness what would occur today.

The Pontiff of the First Finger ascended the steps of the first obelisk, prepared to ignite the flame of the First Finger. Afterward, the pontiff who would mark the arrival of the new cycle would light a new flame. Thus it had been, uninterrupted, for hundreds of years. Not even in times of war was this ritual halted; on the contrary, the kingdoms of this world ceased their conflicts when this time came.

The people cheered for the ritual. Children were taken from their schools to attend, elders recalled the traditions, and the youth pledged themselves boldly before the priests, swearing to protect their faith and their land.

Today was a day of happiness, joy, and new hope.

Today was the day Soliel had chosen to unleash her vengeance upon the Ten Fingers.

Of course, she did not consider herself an evil or cruel god; in fact, she could be quite kind and benevolent. However, if she did nothing against the Ten Fingers—even after they had acted against her chosen—it would mean that anyone could interfere with them.

Even regarding the chosen of other gods, the Ten Fingers were merely guests of the Tower, and yet they had dared to act with such arrogance... Of course, these people were not at fault for the actions of their deities, but they were the source of those gods’ power and pride. Someone had to bear the consequences. Such was the cruelty of fate, in the end.

The God of Duality, the Eleventh Finger, had offered to do it himself if granted an opening. However, that was not how Soliel did things.

No. Today, she herself would make clear what happened when someone interfered with the Tower and the chosen of the gods.

The Pontiff of the First Finger addressed the faithful:

"Welcome, children of the Ten. Today we gather once more to commemorate the arrival of a new cycle."

The pontiff raised his ten fingers toward the sun.

"May the Ten bear witness to the love of their children."

A flame appeared upon the pontiff’s fingers, while the rest of the faithful imitated his actions. The pontiff took the flame into his hands and walked toward the center of the obelisk, where he would place it.

Thus it had been for hundreds of generations before him: an unchanging act of faith.

The pontiff’s hands burned as his flesh cooked red-hot, but he endured the pain; it was his responsibility as the Pontiff of the First Finger.

However, before placing the flame in its place, one of the guards stationed at the obelisk began ascending the steps.

The pontiff heard the commotion. Even so, he chose to complete his act of faith without turning back.

The people began to scream as the sound of swords being drawn rang out, accompanied by the cry:

"FOR THE GOD OF DUALITY!"

Heresy on such a sacred day. Yet not even that would stop him. If anything, it only strengthened his faith. He would show the world that the God of Duality was nothing to fear. He would demonstrate the power of faith.

An arrow shot from the crowd and lodged itself in the old man’s back. The remaining pontiffs fled from the obelisks or were thrown down, their bodies shattered upon the ground.

To think that so many heretics had been hiding among the faithful broke his heart. But despite the pain, he continued forward until he stood mere steps away from where the ceremonial flame was meant to go.

He had done it. Despite the pain, he would prove how unbreakable his faith was. Even if he died here, he would become a martyr for his people, for future generations.

But just before placing the flame into the heart of the obelisk, a supernatural fire ignited in his eyes, rising from his hands.

The small flame that shone with the power of the First Finger flickered, and in an instant, the orange fire transformed into a golden flame—larger, purer, more powerful than anything he had ever seen.

The temperature of the entire place rose. The gold of the obelisk melted, and the old man’s body was burned to death.

In his eyes, the radiant golden flame never ceased to burn.

And in his final moments, the only thing he could think was how beautiful that flame was.

The fire spread uncontrollably, burning alike the followers of the Ten Fingers and those of the Eleventh.

In that golden city, the obelisks collapsed, and a brilliant golden flame rose into the heavens.

All in that city witnessed the miracle.

All witnessed the cataclysm.

All witnessed the wrath of the goddess of light.

The flame grew relentlessly, descending from the sky to the earth, consuming even stone. The golden city of fifty million inhabitants melted, forming a sea of gold that embraced the skin of every one of its people, regardless of age, gender, or innocence.

All suffered the punishment.

From the once-proud city, all that would remain was the golden sea, with the bodies of its victims forever imprinted within the gold.

Mothers embraced their children in their final moments, elders struck their chests in guilt, and lovers bid each other farewell with a final kiss.

Those who had been far enough from the disaster—unable to enter the city—spread the word.

That day, the jewel of the world and fifty million people were massacred by the wrath of an unknown goddess, who proclaimed her vengeance to the four winds, letting all hear her challenge:

"Let the Ten Fingers stop me from punishing their faithful, or let them accept their deaths with resignation for unleashing the wrath of eternal light."