In the beginning of time, when the universe was just forming and darkness had not yet been conquered by light, two soulmates were born: Engel and Teufel. They were inseparable, two halves of the same whole, destined to share a bond that would transcend existence. But at the heart of duality, the seed of discord always lurks.
Engel and Teufel grew up in a primordial era, a time when existence was defined by passion, ambition, and the desire to transcend. Their spirits, as similar as they were opposite, complemented each other in perfect harmony. However, fate had other plans. While Engel radiated a serene calm and a longing to understand the nature of love and redemption, Teufel was seduced by unbridled ambition and a thirst for power.
Envy and betrayal brewed in Teufel's heart, whose resentment grew until it broke the sacred bond between the brothers. In an act that would forever mark the course of their lives, Teufel betrayed Engel. In a moment of unspeakable cruelty, he threw his brother into an endless abyss. Falling into darkness, Engel felt pain and betrayal merge into a silent scream. The act of betrayal not only broke Engel's soul, but sowed the seed of hatred that would give rise to an entire race of dark beings.
The abyss into which Engel was thrown was Hell. Hell is not a sea of fire or a burning cavern. There are no flames, no horned beasts. Instead, it stretched out like a vast frozen desert, an inhospitable and desolate landscape where the cold was relentless and souls wandered in perpetual suffering. There, time seemed to have stopped, and pain was the only currency. In this frozen realm, lost souls were mere pawns in a macabre game. The strongest delighted in torturing the weak, feeding on their tears and despair.
Every corner of Hell witnessed endless suffering, and the landscape, with its expanse of frozen dunes and leaden skies, reflected the absence of hope. Here, there is no judgment, no divine punishment, only absolute abandonment. Hell does not punish. It forgets. The wind cuts the skin like glass blades. There is no sun, no moon, only a sky of ash where shapeless shadows writhe, whispering words that no one understands. Souls wander aimlessly, bent under the weight of their own suffering, some crawling in the blackened snow, others frozen in the midst of an eternal scream.
The strongest find ways to pass the time, becoming predators of the weakest. They torture, tear apart, devour... not because they enjoy it, but because it is the only way to feel something in the midst of the void. In the midst of this desert of loneliness and pain, Nancelot reigns, a cynical and apathetic entity whose power extended unopposed. With an expressionless face and a voice that seemed to emerge from the echo of the ice itself, Nancelot maintained order in this realm of hardship. His indifference was absolute; for him, the suffering of souls was nothing more than a necessary mechanism to sustain primordial chaos.
Engel's mind hardened, and against all odds, he managed to escape. But in doing so, Nancelot, the ruler of that frozen realm, cursed him. Engel's escape from Hell, driven by a desire to find something beyond torment, was not something Nancelot could tolerate. That curse was not a simple punishment, but the seal of fate that would mark Engel forever. Nancelot was not content to leave Engel cursed. With the intention of perpetuating the cycle of suffering, he manipulated the dark forces to create the Ancients. Three invisible beings, born from the very essence of Hell.
The Ancients became puppeteers, operating in the shadows of humanity, seeking souls that, having been marked by resentment, could be torn from their lives and turned into soldiers of unremorseful darkness. With each conversion, the power of hatred expanded, feeding the tide of dark creatures that threatened to devour hope.
The story, however, did not end with Engel's fall. In a twist of fate, a cycle of reincarnation was inexorably imposed. Thus, Engel's soul emerged on the surface of the mortal world.