Hierarchy.
Hierarchy is the silent law that governs everything. It is older than faith, older than morality, and far more honest than both.
The universe does not reward kindness, nor does it punish cruelty. It rewards position. It acknowledges strength. Those above decide what is right, while those below learn to endure it, because endurance is the only option left to them.
Power defines perspective.
To a mortal, a king appears absolute, an existence beyond challenge.
To a king, a Demi God is untouchable, a being that stands outside the reach of authority.
And to a Demi God, even divinity is merely another step on a ladder that never truly ends.
The higher one stands, the smaller the screams below begin to sound, until they fade into nothing but distant background noise, barely noticeable, barely remembered.
This is why the world never becomes fair.
Fairness is a lie told to those at the bottom, a comforting illusion meant to stop them from looking up and realizing how far above the true rulers stand.
And Demi Gods are not the peak.
Above them exist beings who have stepped beyond what mortals consider limits. The ranks that come after Demi God differ drastically from one another, with gaps so vast that they defy conventional understanding.
The difference between each rank is not something effort or talent alone can bridge.
One could not reasonably expect someone even a single rank below to defeat someone above them, no matter the circumstances. Because after Demi God, its not about stats that matters, but the difference is like comparing a small energy source to a whole world itself.
And the gap continues to grow wider as the rank increases.
After stepping into the rank above Demi God, known as the God Rank, one transcends their mortal shell entirely and truly steps onto the Path of Genesis. This is the point where existence no longer treats them as a mortal entity, but as a being that has begun shaping its own origin.
The Path of Genesis itself is not exclusive. It is a path that can be treaded by anyone, even humans and other races of the mortal world, as long as they possess the qualifications and survive the process. In theory, it is open to all beings who seek to go beyond.
The true difference lies elsewhere.
A normal God Rank individual from the Mortal Realm cannot be placed on the same level as a God Rank existence from the other two Realms. This gap exists because of racial differences, as well as the fundamental nature of their energy, which is purer, denser, and more refined in the higher Realms.
However, a Transcendent God Rank is different.
A Transcendent who reaches the God Rank possesses power equal to the God Rank beings of the other two realms, standing on the same level despite originating from a lower world. This is because they are no longer relying solely on the Path of Genesis.
One must remember that the Path of Genesis and the Path of Transcendence can be treaded at the same time.
Doing so allows an individual to overcome the innate disadvantages of their origin, though it demands immense effort, extraordinary talent, and an overwhelming amount of resources to walk both paths.
Only those capable of enduring both paths simultaneously can truly close the gap that separates realms.
At this very moment, the number of Angels within the God Realm alone easily surpassed the thousands. Beyond them were many Angels who stood two or even three ranks above the God Rank, their presence enough to distort the balance of the world.
If one were to count the lower ranked Angels, their numbers easily exceeded ten million, and even then, more were still arriving, continuously populating the surrounding outer space.
And this much force was gathered in less than 5 minutes because of the Gates of heavens.
If one could observe the scene from afar, from the depths of space itself, they would see two enormous gates anchored to the planet, their sheer size beyond mortal comprehension. One was the Gates of Heaven, radiant and overwhelming.
The other was the Abyssal Gates, dark and expanding, carrying an oppressive presence that weighed heavily on reality itself.
And that was not all.
Surrounding the planet, the number of Angels was so vast that it formed an encircling sea of light. Their collective presence exerted pressure that could be felt even from a great distance.
For the residents of the world below, that pressure was not something they could comprehend, let alone resist.
***
In the world of Akumia.
People had already forgotten what peace felt like.
It had all started some time ago, quietly at first, almost imperceptibly.
Earthquakes erupted without warning, swallowing villages, cracking open mountains, and tearing cities into rubble. Seas swallowed coastal regions overnight, leaving nothing but jagged rocks and salt-streaked ruins. Storms ripped through landscapes, flattening forests and leveling hills as if they were paper. Fire rained from the sky in some regions, while others froze solid in a single night, trapping everything in ice and silence.
It was not a single disaster, but all of them, happening everywhere at once, as if the world itself had lost control of its own laws and rebelled against its inhabitants.
At first, people prayed, desperate for a God to save them, clinging to hope like a fragile raft in a storm. But no God came for their salvation.
Then the protectors of each continent arrived, moving with great power to stabilize the chaos.
Their intervention saved millions. Cities that should have vanished were held together by sheer force. Oceans were pushed back, and skies were steadied, as if reality itself had been stitched back into place. Yet even then, people slowly realized a terrifying truth: the Mythical Rank were strong, but they were not omnipotent.
For every place they saved, another place was lost. For every miracle performed, countless silent graves were left behind.
Casualties became numbers. Numbers became routine. The living moved like ghosts, numb to the horror around them.
And before the world could even breathe again, the dungeons appeared.
They tore open the very fabric of space, creating portals that radiated despair in every direction. Dungeons erupted across continents, seas, and even the skies, their presence alone enough to make hearts tighten and nights sleepless.
Their numbers were literally too many to count. Dungeons did not need to strike directly; their mere existence forced people into panic, made governments stall, and left citizens trembling quietly in fear.
Then the sky changed.
The Gates of Heaven appeared, vast and distant, yet close enough for everyone to feel the weight of their presence.
That was when hope finally broke.
A pressure settled over the world, heavy on the chest, crushing the mind, and pressing on the soul.
The sky split, and holiness poured down like a judgment no one had asked for. Even those who had endured disasters, monsters, and relentless loss felt something snap inside them.
This was nothing less than an Apocalypse for them.
And now, as if mocking everything that had come before, the Angels arrived. Although no one saw them, everyone felt them.
Their presence alone bent reality. People could not look at the sky for long without their thoughts dissolving into a mixture of awe and terror. Faith arose where belief had never existed, not because people trusted the Angels, but because fear demanded something to kneel before.
The sky turned golden, bathed in the Angelic radiance stretching across the outer space. Every shard of light felt heavy.
Rian felt it all.
He was just a guard, someone who had survived floods by luck, earthquakes by distance, and dungeons by avoiding them entirely. He had watched Mythical Rank figures and other awakened hunters fight from afar, tiny silhouettes against the forces of nature. He had convinced himself that as long as he stayed alert, as long as he endured, he might live.
That illusion shattered when his knees buckled.
He could not see which being had arrived in the sky, but his body trembled under the pressure. His spine bent, and his breathing became shallow, uneven, and ragged.
His thoughts slowed, crushed under a weight that did not care whether he resisted or submitted. Many weak-willed had already died, and small children had perished even faster, unable to bear the invisible force pressing down upon their fragile bodies.
And then came the final blow.
A sensation so vast and unnatural that it made his blood run cold.
Something shifted, vast and unknowable, and the ground trembled in response. It was not violent, not yet, but it was wrong, fundamentally wrong.
His mind clouded in utter fear and despair. He felt death approaching, its inevitability pressing into his bones. He felt... felt... felt...
His instincts screamed what his mind could not form into words.
The Abyssal Gates were opening, and their effect was far more devastating than the Gates of Heaven. The entire world seemed to shiver under the energy pouring from them.
Rian did not understand the mechanics of what was happening. He did not need to.
He gripped his hands tighter, even though he knew it was meaningless. Around him, people cried, prayed, laughed hysterically, or stood in stunned silence, eyes empty of hope.
No one spoke of survival anymore.
For the first time, Rian wondered if surviving until today had only been a cruel delay, a false hope that the world had granted him, preparing him for nothing.
And then, after eons of being sealed, the Abyss finally descended into reality. Its presence alone warped the laws of existence and cast a shadow across every living soul.
***
Author’s Note
17th February.
One year ago, Power of Runes began with a single Chapter and a very uncertain author.
One year later... we have theories that spiral for pages, rage in the comments, "author pls" at every cliffhanger, and somehow a WSA win standing in the middle of all that chaos.
I didn’t expect this story to grow the way it did. I didn’t expect readers to remember tiny details from early arcs. I didn’t expect people to argue about characters like they’re real. But you did. You stayed. You supported. You criticized. You waited through delays. You kept reading.
That matters more than you think.
To celebrate one full year of Power of Runes , I’m hosting a two-days Anniversary Event on Discord starting 17th Feb .
There will be mini games, one major POR quiz, and a live Q&A session.
The exact schedule will be finalized based on the Google Form responses, so make sure you fill it. Timing will be set so most of you can actually join. (In the discord)
Mini games include Scribble.io, Musical Chair (text edition), a certain "Tea Event"(game) and more.The main quiz will be fully based on Power of Runes — arcs, lore, hidden details, small moments only real readers remember.
Yes, there are rewards.Yes, there is a $50 Steam Gift Card for the quiz winner and nitro for mini games.And yes, custom Anniversary roles will be given.
React to the announcement message in Discord to receive the Anniversary Event role and stay updated.
Whether you join the event or just continue reading silently, thank you for being part of this journey.
One year down.
The real storm hasn’t even started yet.