In the beginning, there was nothing—only endless chaos, formless and wild.
From that chaos rose the Lord God, the being who brought order to the void.
With his will, he split the nothingness into sky and land, sea and flame. From his hands, the first heavens rose, and the world was born.
To guard the balance of creation, he gave rise to three higher races:
.The Gods, sovereign rulers of divinity.
.The Angels, guardians of light and judgment.
.The Demons, embodiments of shadow and destruction.
Though their natures clashed, none dared shatter the balance, for the Lord God's presence reigned supreme. Beneath them, the lower races—humans, elves, monsters, and countless mortals—lived fragile yet enduring lives within the order he had forged.
Yet eternity is never unbroken.
Upon the Throne of Light, the Lord God sat in silence. The brilliance that once crowned him shook and dimmed, flickering like a dying flame. Cracks of golden radiance crept along his arms, leaking the very essence that upheld creation. Even the stars seemed to shudder with each ragged breath he drew.
The higher races felt it.
In the shining halls of the gods, whispers of fear spread like wildfire.
"The throne trembles… if he falls, who will rule?"
In the endless skies of the angels, wings folded in dread.
"The Lord's light flickers… can eternity truly end?"
And in the abyss of demons, laughter echoed.
"The eternal one bleeds. Soon, the chains will break."
The balance trembled. And the Lord God knew it.
With waning strength, he raised his hand. A spark of purest light gathered, and reality groaned as he drew his infinite essence from within his body, compressing the impossible into a single form.
A stone emerged—small and unassuming, yet within its core swirled galaxies, storms, fire, and eternity. His power was unlike any other; it never ceased to grow. That relentless growth became a threat—to him, to the higher beings, and to the fragile balance of creation. To preserve all that he had built, he sealed every fragment of his strength into the stone, the only vessel capable of bearing such force.
He knew this, too: if a god, an angel, or a demon were to obtain the stone, they would rise to stand as his equal—another Lord God unleashed—and the realms would burn. So he veiled the stone and cast it away from the high realms, sending it into the mortal world, the one place no higher being would think to search.
Once his power was gone, the light within him dimmed. No one could say how or why; only this was certain—the Lord God's time was fading, slow and inevitable, like a setting sun. In the night of the mortal sky, the stone crossed as a falling star and vanished into the unseen earth.
The stone rose from his grasp and burst forth like a comet.
It tore through the heavens of gods, past the blazing citadels of angels, across the abyss of demons. Every race lifted their eyes as it fell, silent before the omen. Then it pierced the veil between realms and vanished into the mortal world.
In their night sky, it appeared only as a falling star, streaking across the darkness before sinking into unseen earth. No mortal knew what it carried, nor what would awaken when it was found.
Thus began the day when destiny was born—
and one day, a single hand would reach for that star, and the balance of all realms would tremble.