Before kingdoms bore names, before races raised their eyes to the starry heavens to seek gods, there was a silence.
A silence so vast it swallowed up time, so profound it cast doubt on existence itself.
From this nothingness, a will arose. Not a voice, nor flesh, but a spark. It forged the first fabrics of the universe, and from its fragments the gods were born. Each carried within them a color, a light, a law. Their hands shaped Aetherion: lands, seas, winds, flames, peoples... But all remained bound by a promise: none would sit upon the Throne of the Starry Void, for that seat belonged only to He-Who-Comes-After.
Ages passed, the gods withdrew, and the kingdoms forgot. But the Throne remained, empty, patient, motionless.
Until one day a new spark, fallen from a distant world, awoke in the form of a living nebula.
Its memories were shattered. Its nature, indecipherable. But its name... a whisper in the ether...
Kaelios.
And Aetherion's destiny had just begun to move again.