How many years had it been? Ten? Five hundred? Ten thousand? It had been so long since Michael had been sealed in the godforsaken dimension known as Inanis. A realm of nothingness, where everything had once existed—but that was long, long ago. Now, only the void remained.

  Well... not entirely.

  There was something else in Inanis. Something that had been sent here, not created here. Michael himself. He was known to the realm as The Mad Immortal, both for his inability to die and for the madness that had consumed him when he once ruled the entire world.

  Michael drifted endlessly through Inanis, recalling how he had even ended up here in the first place. It had all begun when the five other kingdoms rebelled against him, proclaiming that his rule was tyrannical and unholy in the eyes of the gods. Michael had laughed at their accusations. He never took them seriously, blinded by his arrogance and his overwhelming mastery of magic. He still had his vast kingdom and his powerful army to protect him.

  "How idiotic of me," Michael muttered to himself as he remembered the battle that should have ended the rebellion.

  The Battle of Richard's Hill.

  Michael had taken a defensive position atop the hill with an army five thousand strong ,3000 infantry, 1500 Archers and 500 calvary, facing rebels that numbered twenty thousand strong. Fueled by devotion and faith, the rebels charged headlong into his shield wall as arrows rained down upon them, followed by waves of shadow magic. The battle had been decisive but Massacre was more fitting for some. Thousands of rebels lay dead, the hill slick with blood and the lingering energy of dark magic. Hundreds more had been captured, and the rest were routed.

  Yet Michael's ego and underestimation of the rebels clouded his judgment. Instead of pursuing the fleeing enemy, he ordered his army to return to the capital. He believed the rebels had been broken, their spirit crushed beyond recovery. "Let them crawl back to their homes weeping, They'll come begging for forgiveness". Michael had told his captains who were already ready to cut down more rebels in the name of their emperor.

  He was wrong.

  Oh, so wrong.

  The surviving rebels sought aid from their gods, Begging for a sign. No a Hero to be chosen and to lead them, and the gods answered. Michael's power was deemed too dangerous to be allowed to exist. The gods had long been trying to remove Michael but they always failed. It was then that an hero rose among the rebels, a young man who was chosen and led them toward the final confrontation: the Siege of Satus punctum, 11 months after the Battle of Richard's Hill.

  The siege lasted 2 grueling years. The final assault began only after the gods unleashed a devastating plague upon the metropolis. Michael had ordered his guards to hold the walls, threatening execution should they falter. Fear, not loyalty, kept his army standing when all else fail.

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  Many innocent lives had been claimed during the plague but what hurts more for Michael was that his army was falling and that the gods and their plague had claimed the life of his youngest brother which caused a tear in the persona of the Mad Immortal which revealed Michael's weakness... Family and his care for his people.

  Under a full moon, the rebel armies of the five kingdoms launched their attack. Two armies assaulted the left wall, two struck the right, and the final force, led by Hero Frederick, assaulted the front gate. The defenses collapsed with terrifying speed. The walls had been breached with ease due to the lack of men to guard it and the Front gate was opened. A Betrayal.

  Desperate, Michael ordered his men to retreat back to the Keep where they will stand their ground. But It was already too late as Frederick had charged alone into the main keep where Michael had retreated to in order to cast his most powerful spell but that was before Fredrick lunged at Michael which Michael just barely parried which wasn't clean or refine like it always was. This was the cracks of the Mad one as Frederick started to duel Michael which lasted hours as the smell of smoke from the fire and the yells of victory reached Michael which caused him to hesitate which Frederick used to lunge at Michael and driving the Holy sword into Michael's chest.

  Michael had chuckled, not from shock but from amusement as he spoke in a low and cold tone. "You're the first to stab me in eons.. to bad I'm immortal. I'm unable to be killed." Michael spoke as if fact that he was unable to be killed and Frederick wasn't the first to think they landed a fatal blow.

  Frederick did not respond.

  With earie calmness, Michael raised his hands and pointed at the hero. "Foolish rebels," he sneered. "You never should have opposed me."

  He tried to summon his magic. A simple tendril of shadow magic still not thinking that Frederick warranted a better more worthy spell.

  Nothing happened.

  Confusion flashed across Michael's face, quickly turning to realization. With unlikely panic He frantically tried to pull the sword from his chest, gritting his teeth as pain unlike anything he had ever known tore through him. Frederick refused to let go, instead driving the blade deeper into the supposed heretic tyrant.

  "This is the sword of the gods!" Frederick roared, holding Michael in place even as the immortal struck him in desperation, his fist bloodied and broken on Frederick's blessed helmet.

  A portal opened beneath Michael's feet. Golden light descended from the heavens, swallowing him whole and dragging him down into Inanis.

  There, he remained—forever sealed, defeated, and transformed into a lesson for the world.

  Submit to the will of the gods and the church, or face divine wrath.

  Death, the gods believed, would have made Michael a martyr. So instead, they condemned him to eternity alone, powerless, and forgotten. His people would long forget their origins as the 5 kingdoms would expand and assimilate Immortal lands into their own.

  Or so they thought. Michael had long planned for this situation millions of years ago after the last attempt on his life and attempted sealing. He had made 3 contingency plans over the years.

  1. Wait for his people to break him out of whatever he is sealed in.

  2. Wait long enough for the seal to weaken enough so he could break out.

  3. Scatter magic cards made from his magic to his followers to one day use in a ritual to break him out.

  Unfortunately the Rebels had destroyed many of the cards and his people had long been purged into near extinction or into hiding where they remain today but Michael didn't know that so he still waited, clinging to the idea that one day he would escape, it was only a matter of time.

  **Approved retelling from the church**