Far in the depths of the cosmos, where even light seemed hesitant to reach, a solitary figure drifted in the infinite void.
His body, bloodied and battered, was a silent testament to battles beyond mortal comprehension. He did not move, yet the very fabric of space trembled around him—a being who had long transcended the laws of the universe. His presence alone commanded the silence of the cosmos, as if existence itself dared not disturb him.
Ancient eyes, deep and knowing, pierced through the endless dark. Eyes that had witnessed the rise and fall of worlds, the birth of gods, and the death of eternity. And now, with a quiet exhale, he spoke.
"Ah… it's finally over."
His voice was low, steady, carrying the weight of epochs. Yet there was no triumph in it. No relief. Only the quiet acknowledgment of a war whose cost could never truly be measured. It was done, but its echoes would linger, rippling through time itself.
For a moment, he simply drifted, as though savoring a stillness that had eluded him for far too long. His presence was immense, his power beyond the reckoning of gods or men. Yet even he, in the boundless hush of the cosmos, found something close to peace.
"Time to rest."
There was no surrender in his words, only certainty. A finality that did not speak of death, but of a slumber deeper than time itself. His eyes slowly closed, heavy with the weight of countless years.
And as he faded into the abyss of sleep, the universe seemed to exhale with him. His form remained, still and unshaken, yet the faintest pulse of power lingered—an echo of something ancient, something eternal. The cosmos would never forget his existence.
Because no force, divine or mortal, could ever truly erase him.
Chapter 1
The Year 10,709 — The World Reforged
The world had changed. Not in the way of slow erosion or gentle evolution, but in a single, cataclysmic upheaval that left scars no passage of time could heal. The war—now little more than myth—had faded into legend, its truth buried beneath centuries of dust and silence.
But the world still bore its wounds.
At the heart of this era were the Awakeners. At sixteen, each human child faced the Rite—a transformation that bound them to mana, the invisible thread weaving through all existence. Some emerged with power beyond imagination, rising to the ranks of the elite. Others were left behind, discarded by fate before their journey could even begin.
For those who awakened, the future was dictated by the guilds—powerful factions that ruled over cities, industries, and mana itself. Each guild held its own ambitions, its own vision for the world, whether noble or ruthless. To be chosen by a guild was to have a place in the world. To be rejected was to be forgotten.
But beneath the surface of this so-called civilization, shadows stirred.
The Veil—a barrier forged from the sacrifices of ancient awakeners—had long shielded humanity from the horrors beyond. For centuries, it had held strong, keeping the Outer Beings at bay. But it was not unbreakable. Cracks formed. Gates opened. And through those rifts, things slipped through.
They came in whispers, in flickers of shadow. In the hollow echoes of things that should not exist.
As the Veil weakened, so too did the hold of the gods. Once omnipotent, their influence had dwindled, their power fractured. Some vanished entirely, others were sealed away, their voices reduced to nothing but murmurs in the wind.
Still, the faithful listened. Still, the devout prayed. And still, some whispered that the remnants of the gods held secrets far older than the Veil itself.
To the unknowing, the world was ordinary. A modern age, where technology thrived and the internet connected every corner of society. Cities bustled with life. Social media trends rose and fell. But beneath the neon lights and towering skyscrapers, something far older stirred.
Something was coming.
"A surge of unknown energy has been detected near the eastern border…"
A simple news broadcast. A routine disturbance. Another crack in the Veil. Nothing new. Nothing urgent.
Or so they said.
But those who studied the old texts, those who saw the patterns, knew better.
The Veil was weakening.
Or perhaps… it was something else.
Beyond the barrier, something watched. Something ancient. Something waiting.
For now, it was only a whisper in the dark. A shadow at the edge of the world.
But in time, the truth would find its way into the light.
And so, the story begins…