"A god is only truly dead when they are forgotten."
"I want to be remembered."
That was the last wish of someone who perished torn to pieces, abandoned, and erased from every memory.
Everyone had forgotten him.
But a certain god had not.
"You will be remembered… I promise," the mysterious god whispered.
Carved somewhere unseen and forsaken, in a place no one recalls, from a time long forgotten—
Thus began the first words:
"Before there was light, there was darkness."
"Before there was peace, there was war."
"Before there was Aetherus, there was Lazarak."
This entity was darkness itself pure, endless, and tranquil. Yet not long after his birth, a glow bloomed in the void, faint and trembling, until it grew brighter, burning away the serenity he once embodied.
It was blinding, alive with emotions he could never understand.
From that light came life.
And from life came war.
"Long before the First Epoch.
Before the rise of demonkind.
