[??? Years Ago]
The Keepers of Order.
They had always existed.
Not as mortals do, bound by flesh, nor as Gods do, bound by faith.
They were beyond such things—beyond comprehension, beyond mortality, beyond even the limitations of divinity itself. They were the first, the forces that shaped existence from the formless void. Their roles were etched into the very foundation of the universe, not by will, not by fate, but by the fundamental necessity of Order.
Each had their purpose, an immutable function woven into the soul of reality.
And among them—
The Architect.
It was he who breathed structure into the endless space, forging the vast picture of creation. Eight realms, each a universe unto itself, each galaxy, each star, each planet—his hands shaped them all. The Architect was not a being of passion, nor of cruelty; he was design incarnate, a force that sculpted reality without indulgence, without hesitation.
Yet, for all his work, his creations were hollow.
