The World Of Aetas
Before time.
Before light.
Before anything…
There was nothing.
And then, from the Nothing, came the great continent of Aetas.
In the blink of an eye, oceans surged, forests bloomed, and mountains rose.
But the world was empty.
Without hope or will.
Without fear or despair.
Then came the gods.
And not only them. Mortals too — as if fate had carved both gods and men from the same breath.
The gods dwelled in the great Pantheon, a realm beyond all comprehension.
There, everything that a man could desire flowed endlessly: wealth, food, wine, and immortality.
But eternity with everything…
Became emptiness.
An eternal loop of sameness.
The gods, unchanging, flawless, unbroken — were slowly drowning in perfection.
They looked down upon the world below — Horynor, the land of fleeting fires, known to mortals as Aetas.
At first, they watched with distance.
Guardians of fate. Judges of the soul.
But soon, curiosity became longing.
They watched mortal lives unfold — full of dreams, of pain, of triumph.
They saw lives that burned fast but bright.
And they felt envy.
Mortals changed. In an instant.
From good to wicked, from coward to hero.
They changed — and that… that drew the gods closer.
They began to wonder:
What would it be like... to live as they do?
To feel the weight of time?
To walk, not fly. To hunger. To fear. To hope.
And so, they descended.
For in Horynor, each day is new.
Each step is uncertain.
And every breath… alive.
This is not a tale of the heroes you expected.
This is the world of Change.
The world of becoming.
The world of Aetas.