Long ago, before the concept of time held meaning, in an age where harmony reigned and peace wrapped the cosmos like a warm blanket, there existed a divine being—a god unlike any other. With infinite wisdom and compassion, he shaped the world from nothingness, breathing life into the void. Yet he did not act alone. By his side stood radiant beings known as angels, embodiments of his will and protectors of creation.
But even in a perfect realm, perfection carries a flaw.
The god, in his boundless love, desired more than obedient followers. He yearned to create life that could choose—beings with free will, capable of making decisions, both right and wrong. He envisioned a world of living creatures, each able to feel joy, sorrow, pain, and love, just as he did. And so, the great work began.
From celestial breath and divine thought, he formed Earth—a canvas of endless skies, deep oceans, and vibrant lands. Upon it, life flourished, evolving and growing under the god's guiding hand. But as light spread across the universe, so too did the shadows.
Among the angels was one who grew discontent.
He was once a bright star in the heavens, gifted with beauty and power. But within his heart, a seed of pride began to sprout. He questioned the god's motives, his visions, and his trust in fragile mortal beings. This angel, whose name would one day strike fear across all creation, was called Satan.
Satan desired power—not the power to protect, but the power to rule. Quietly, he whispered to the others, planting doubt and ambition like poison in their minds. "Why should we serve blindly?" he asked. "Why should mortals, flawed and weak, be granted freedom while we, the perfect, remain bound?"
And the angels listened.
A division formed in Heaven. Where once unity stood, now ambition stirred. Some angels remained loyal, hearts steadfast and clear. Others began to hunger for dominion, for change, for power. What started as murmurs soon grew into defiance. And from defiance—war.
Heaven trembled.
The god watched with sorrow as the skies above turned into a battlefield. Satan, now exploted with pride and wrath, led the rebellion. His heart overflowed with the Seven Vices: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Pride, and Envy. His forces clashed with those who embodied the Seven Virtues: Wisdom, Kindness, Willpower, Justice, Fearlessness, Greatifity, and Faith.
As the conflict raged on, the god made a painful decision. He summoned the Flame of Infinity, a sacred fire that burned not flesh, but spirit. It would cleanse all that was corrupted.
With a heavy heart, he cast Satan and his followers into the flame.
But even divine punishment has limits. Satan, now twisted and monstrous, endured the fire. Heaven itself could not contain him. The god, realizing that evil could not be unmade, chose instead to divide his realm.
Heaven was split.
One half remained pure and radiant, the other scorched by eternal fire—a place of torment now known as Hell.
Time drifted onward.
Two great gates came into being: the Gate of Heaven, and the Gate of Hell. When humanity was created, they were given a choice. Each soul, upon birth, would carry the freedom to listen—to the voice of God, or to the whispers of the Devil.
Yet Satan did not give up.
He plotted, waited, and wove a curse unlike any other. A curse so powerful, it required all of his strength. It would close the Gate to Heaven forever, cutting off God's creation from his love.
In the final battle, as light clashed with darkness, Satan invoked the curse. God, watching his creation on the brink of damnation, made a final sacrifice. He reached deep within himself and pulled free his very heart—his essence, his soul—and cast it into the world of man.
The heart shattered.
Seven fragments fell across the Earth, each finding a home within the hearts of seven humans. These fragments became known as the Seven Godly Traits, the last hope of creation.
And so, a new story began—not of gods or angels, but of humans.
Each chosen soul, unknowingly carrying a piece of the divine, would shape the fate of the world.
The war between light and shadow had only just begun
Fragments of Light between Dreams and Shadows
Ever since I was a child, I had those dreams. Every night, without fail, I found myself in a world of fire and shadow. Demons whispered in a language I couldn't understand. I ran. I hid. I survived. I didn't know how or why I ended up there, only that I had no choice. It felt too real to be a dream—too terrifying to forget.
During the day, I was just another quiet kid in class. I stared at the board like everyone else, but my mind wasn't there. It was still stuck in that other world, replaying the fear, the sounds, the feeling of something constantly hunting me. I couldn't escape it, not even when I was awake. People said I was a daydreamer—a boy with his head in the clouds. But I knew the truth. I wasn't dreaming. I was remembering.
I talked about it at first. I told classmates about the demons and the twisted sky. About how I ended up in that place every night, fighting for my life, not knowing if I'd make it to morning. They laughed. Said I was crazy. A liar. A freak. And then came the bullying.
I was pushed around, ignored, mocked. Every day felt like survival in a different kind of nightmare. But honestly? I barely noticed. Even when they knocked me down, I was already somewhere else in my mind—still trying to make sense of what was happening to me each night.
My grades were terrible. I couldn't focus. Teachers labeled me as lazy. My parents didn't know what to do. But I couldn't stop thinking about that other world. It followed me. Haunted me.
I wanted the bullying to stop. So I made a decision.
I tried to live like everyone else. I focused on school, tried to act normal, to blend in. I forced myself to care about homework, tests, and fitting in. And I failed. Again and again. Nothing came easy. But I didn't give up.
Every time I fell, I stood back up. Every failure made me more determined. After years of struggling, I finally reached a place where things started to make sense. My grades weren't amazing—but they were stable. I wasn't the best. I wasn't the worst. I was just... normal. And for the first time, I was proud of that. Proud that I hadn't given up.
But even then, no matter how far I came, my thoughts always returned to that other world. Every night, just before I closed my eyes, I wondered: Why was this still happening? Why did it still feel so real?
It got harder and harder to explain away. Harder to ignore. And eventually, I found my answer.
This wasn't a dream.
It wasn't fantasy.
It wasn't in my head.
It was real!