Year 2018.
The day began like any other. Markets bustled, classrooms echoed with chatter, and traffic choked the streets of every major city. Humanity was alive in its ordinary chaos, unaware that history was about to fracture.
Then the sky changed.
A sudden brilliance split the heavens. Thousands of radiant streaks cascaded downward, glittering like a meteor shower. People cheered at first, raising their phones, capturing what they thought was a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. Children pressed their noses to windows, lovers pointed to the stars, strangers stood shoulder to shoulder in awe.
But wonder turned to unease.
The lights did not fade.
Instead, each streak pierced the earth as though absorbed by an invisible hand. Soil drank the radiance. Seas swallowed it whole. From deserts to forests, mountains to valleys, every corner of the globe received the same gift—or curse.
Fear spread faster than the lights themselves. Social media drowned in theories. Was it a natural phenomenon? A weapon? The wrath of the divine? No scientist, priest, or politician had an answer. Yet every soul felt it: the world had changed.
And then—the door appeared.
In the heart of Delhi, India, where millions bustled through crowded streets, space itself seemed to rupture. With a sound like mountains grinding together, a colossal gate forced its way into existence. Its frame dwarfed buildings, its surface carved with ancient glyphs that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. The symbols belonged to no language on earth.
Chaos followed. Military cordons were drawn, drones circled the structure, and every major news network set its cameras upon the impossible sight. For the first time in centuries, the entire world looked to one city.
But no explanation came.
Theories piled high, none sufficient. When days passed with no progress, an alliance was born: the International Research Organisation (IRO). The world's finest scholars, scientists, and strategists pooled their knowledge. Together, they studied the gate with desperation, knowing that answers could decide humanity's fate.
Ten days later, desperation turned to action. A team was chosen—soldiers, scientists, explorers—to step into the unknown. Cameras followed their every move as they passed through the towering doors. Humanity waited, breath held, for their return.
They never came back.
Panic turned to dread. The gate was no longer a mystery; it was a tomb.
And then came the second calamity.
One week later, the door roared open of its own accord. From its depths spilled nightmares. Twisted shapes, grotesque forms, beasts that mocked nature itself—monsters. They surged outward in waves, enough to swallow a nation. Tanks fired. Jets screamed overhead. Bullets, missiles, flames—none of it worked. The creatures tore through defenses as if humanity's weapons were toys.
Cities crumbled. Skies burned. Entire nations were erased from the map. Within months, humanity's population had been carved down to a quarter. Despair reigned.
But when the world teetered on the brink of extinction, light rose from the ashes.
Five humans—ordinary once, extraordinary now—awakened to power no one could explain. They fought with strength that defied logic, abilities that rivaled the monsters pouring from the gate. Where armies had failed, they triumphed. Where humanity had despaired, they inspired hope.
They were saviors. Legends. Weapons of divine will, or perhaps cursed fate.
The world came to know them by a single name:
The Masters.