Nordic Universe.
The sky above the Nine Realms shimmered as a rift tore through the layers of space, rippling like a wound in the firmament.
From that radiant breach stepped Lugh, the God of the Sun, the King of the Celts, and the proud King of the Tuatha Dé Danann.
His eyes, bright like burning dawns, swept over the vast expanse beneath him.
But what he saw made his heart tighten.
The Nine Realms, once vast and alive, brimming with divine light, proud cities, and lush lands that rivaled even the Celtic Isles, were now but a pale shadow of their former glory.
Worlds that once pulsed with divine life now floated as broken husks in the endless void.
Fragments of shattered realms drifted like corpses of forgotten stars, each one faintly glowing with the remnants of ancient magic.
