> "Before time existed, before there were stars, the world knew only one thing — the pulse."
That pulse was the Aether Pulse, the first breath of the cosmos.
From each of its waves were born seven vibrations — seven continents — seven paths toward perfection, and seven wounds upon the body of the world.
From the highest pulse arose Elysera, the realm of perfection.
There, the Gods sculpted laws and kindled stars, shaping harmony as the face of order.
Yet light without shadow is but a lie.
When one pulse strayed from rhythm, a fracture appeared — and through that fracture flowed seven branches of Aether into all layers of existence.
Thus were the continents born:
Eryndor, where spirit and flesh unite through the art of Spiritus cultivation, where mortals strive for eternity despite being bound to death.
Vareth, the land of magi, where Mana became the new law, replacing the will of the heavens.
Nyxfall, the continent of darkness, home to the forgotten memories of the world, where Voidwalkers roam without a past.
Solrane, the land of life and natural magic, where Mana flows like the earth's blood and dragons guard its current.
Thalden, the world's underbelly, where metal and soul intertwine in machines that attempt to mimic the Gods' creations by mortal hands.
And in the deepest abyss lies Abyssal Deep, where the world's pulse turns into a scream. There, ancient demons and the void itself wait — hungering for the light that has forsaken them.
For thousands of cycles, the Aether Pulse beat in harmony — and the world lived in balance.
But no pulse lasts forever.
One night, the rhythm ceased.
The skies of Elysera cracked, holy light fell like blood rain, and every continent heard the single echo that shattered history:
> "A child has been born — not of pure Aether, but of a broken pulse."
He belonged neither to Gods, nor to men, nor to the Abyss.
His soul pulsed twice — one of light, and one of void.
And with every breath he took, the world trembled.
> "Aetherion will pulse once more… or cease forever."