"Millions of light-years away from Earth… within the spiraling arms of the Milky Way galaxy… there exists another galaxy untouched by mortal eyes."
"In that distant galaxy, there are two worlds — twin in origin, divided by fate. Once united as one, these worlds now stand apart, bearing the scars of a war waged centuries ago."
"The inhabitants of these worlds are of a single race — a race once revered for its brilliance, strength, and celestial nature."
"They are called… Angels."
"Bound by the stars yet broken by conflict, their legacy drifts in silence — waiting, watching, and bracing… for what comes next
The world of Luminary was a paradise veiled in eternal grace.
Silver spires glistened beneath a serene night sky, where countless stars shimmered like scattered diamonds across a canvas of navy. Four moons hovered gently above — two of them stationed nearest to the celestial world, casting a silvery glow so pure that it felt divine. The central castle stood tall in the heart of the capital, its architecture regal and ageless. Surrounding it were monuments carved in silver, each one a symbol of peace, glory, and history.
Silent winds swept over marble bridges, through whispering gardens, and around the mighty castle. Silver-winged angelic soldiers stood on vigilant guard. Their polished armor reflected moonlight, swords at their waists gleaming with righteous authority.
In the castle's tallest tower, behind a grand crystal window that welcomed the moonlight, a young man lay upon a royal bed draped in gentle silks.
Lucen, the Crown Prince of Luminary.
He appeared to be twenty-two, though his presence hinted at something far more ancient, as if he were carved by the cosmos themselves. His white hair fell gently around his face, glistening faintly in the moonlight. His skin was pale and smooth, his features delicate yet dignified. His eyes, deep blue like the heart of a star, were closed in a troubled rest.
A breeze crept through the open window, swaying the translucent curtains. Lucen stirred.
His eyes opened.
Beads of sweat clung to his forehead.
He rose slowly from the bed, bare-chested, the sharp lines of his physique catching the moonlight. His body was sculpted like a statue, but his expression remained innocent and calm. He walked quietly to the window, gazing out into the dreamlike landscape of his kingdom. The world was peaceful. And yet...
"It was just a nightmare," he whispered to himself.
He turned away and returned to the bed, closing his eyes once more.
But somewhere far beyond this tranquil haven, in the shadowed world of Nytherra, another night unfolded.
A different moonlight bathed the sharp peaks of Nytherra's towering obsidian mountains. Beneath a sky tinged with deep violet, darkness clung to the very air.
At the heart of this bleak world stood a castle forged of shadowed crystal and jagged iron. The aura was regal, yet cruel.
Inside the throne chamber, blood had recently spilled.
Two corpses lay on the stone floor. The scent of death lingered.
Guards in black and silverish-purple armor stood tall with spears and greatswords in hand. Between them, kneeling and handcuffed, were two angelic prisoners. Their wings were broken, trembling. They shivered under the merciless gaze of the throne's occupant.
Seated upon the high throne, draped in black with silver-purple outlines, sat Victoria.
Victoria Black Reign, the Queen of Nytherra.
Her black battle suit clung to her slender, imposing form. A cape of darkness fluttered lightly behind her. Her long, black hair fell over her face, veiling one of her crimson eyes. The other eye burned coldly through the strands — emotionless, merciless, and piercing.
She was beautiful. But it was a beauty like sharpened glass: cold, untouchable, and dangerous.
The two Angels knelt before her, their voices desperate.
"M-Majesty, we don't know anything more, please forgive us!" one cried.
"We swear on the stars, we told you everything…!" said the other.
Victoria's voice was as cold as the abyss.
"Then you are not required anymore," she said.
A flicker of light escaped her eyes — silverish purple, deadly and divine. It shot forward like a blade of judgment.
In an instant, the two prisoners were turned to dust. No scream. No resistance. Just silence.
The soldiers did not flinch.
This was the manifestation of her Celestial Force.
It was known as Vectray.
The throne room remained quiet, save for the hum of power lingering in the air.
One world bathed in light.
One world cloaked in darkness.
And yet, both were destined to collide once more