For years, the people of Gielinor believed the age of the gods had truly ended. The temples still stood, prayers were still spoken, and ancient stories remained, but the gods themselves had become distant memories. Kings ruled kingdoms, adventurers explored forgotten ruins, and most believed the horrors of the old God Wars would never return.
But in the final weeks before the gods came back, the world began to change.
At first, the signs were small.
Travelers crossing the Wilderness reported seeing impossible lights burning in the northern sky long after sunset. Livestock refused to drink from rivers near ancient battlegrounds. Priests throughout Varrock and Falador spoke of hearing whispers during prayer — voices that did not belong to mortals.
In the forests near druidic ruins, animals became violent without reason. Entire flocks of birds abandoned their migration paths and circled endlessly above forgotten Guthixian shrines. The druids warned that the balance of the world was weakening, though few listened.
Then the earthquakes began.
They started beneath remote ruins tied to the Third Age, weak tremors at first, but soon entire villages reported stone cracking apart from underground pressure. Buried relics resurfaced across the kingdoms — broken weapons glowing with divine energy, armor untouched by time, banners belonging to armies destroyed thousands of years earlier.
Scholars at the Museum of Varrock uncovered texts sealed since the original God Wars. Most were too damaged to read, but one phrase appeared again and again across different records:
“When the veil weakens, the gods shall walk once more.”
Panic spread slowly.
In Falador, the Church of Saradomin declared the signs were proof that divine judgment approached. Recruitment into holy orders surged as fearful citizens begged for protection. White Knights were stationed across trade roads while priests urged kingdoms to unite before darkness returned.
Meanwhile, hidden Zamorakian cults emerged from secrecy across Gielinor. What had once been scattered fanatics became organized warbands almost overnight. Entire criminal gangs disappeared beneath cities only to return carrying crimson banners and speaking openly of the coming age of chaos.
In Varrock, tensions grew worse each day.
Food shortages struck the poorer districts first. Merchants accused nobles of hoarding supplies while refugees flooded the city from smaller settlements destroyed by strange creatures roaming the countryside. Guards began disappearing during night patrols near the sewers and eastern walls.
Then came the fires.
Without warning, ancient altars dedicated to forgotten gods reignited across the world. Crimson flame erupted beneath ruined temples. Golden light poured from long-abandoned cathedrals. Even druidic stones hidden deep within forests began radiating unstable energy.
No one understood what had triggered it.
Some blamed reckless mages digging too deep into ancient ruins. Others claimed Guthix’s death had finally shattered the barriers keeping divine powers from returning. A few whispered something far worse — that the gods had never truly left, and had merely been waiting for the world to weaken itself.
Three nights before the return, the sky changed.
The stars above Gielinor dimmed beneath enormous storms rolling across the horizon. Lightning burned red over the Wilderness while earthquakes shook the foundations of Varrock Palace itself. People gathered in the streets praying, rioting, or fleeing south in terror.
Then the heavens split open.
A crimson tear appeared above the world like a wound carved through reality itself. From within came divine fire, ancient voices, and the sound of war horns unheard since the Third Age.
The gods had returned.
And with them came the beginning of a new war that would decide the fate of every kingdom in Gielinor.