One year after the Day the Sky Wept Light, when humanity had barely begun to rebuild under the shadow of the Masters, the world shuddered again.
Mountains groaned. Rivers reversed their course. Storms tore across the horizon with no warning. In every corner of the earth, the sacred and the forbidden—ruins long abandoned, temples whispered of in myth, forests untouched by man—began to twist.
Stone reshaped itself into endless passages. Caverns deepened into abysses. Ancient grounds folded into impossible structures.
The labyrinths were born.
Unlike the monstrous Gate, the labyrinths were scattered across the globe, each with its own impossible architecture. Inside them lurked creatures unlike any known to man, traps that bent reason, and trials that pushed mortals to their breaking point. But amidst the horrors, whispers spread—treasures lay buried within.
Artifacts. Relics of forgotten gods. Objects brimming with power that defied human understanding.
At first, no one dared to enter. Humanity had lost too much. But human nature has always hungered for power. And once the first artifact was claimed—a blade said to cut through the very air itself—desire spread faster than fire in dry grass.
The labyrinths became the new battleground. Nations funded expeditions. Guilds of explorers rose overnight. Mercenaries, criminals, and dreamers alike threw themselves into the mazes, each chasing their own vision of glory. To conquer a labyrinth was to rise above humanity itself. To claim an artifact was to carve one's name into history.
And so, what had begun as another calamity became an obsession. Humanity feared the labyrinths, but more than that—they coveted them.
Among the nameless and the countless who dared to step inside, one boy would stand apart.
His name was Chakra.
Neither hero nor savior, neither soldier nor king—just another soul swallowed by the labyrinths. Yet in the depths of one such maze, where time itself seemed broken, he stumbled upon an artifact unlike any other.
It was said to belong to a forgotten deity.
A god who did not rule fire or sky or war, but something greater—
Something inevitable.
The God of Time.
From the moment Chakra laid hands on that artifact, the gears of destiny began to turn. And the world, already shattered, would never be the same again.