In the rolling hills of the southern border, where farmlands stretched into the horizon and sleepy villages dotted the countryside, a strange ripple surged through the air.
Locals barely had time to register the shift in the wind before cracks of light appeared in the sky.
One after another, bodies fell from glowing tears—humans clad in strange armor, with glowing eyes and unnaturally perfect bodies.
At first, the villagers simply stared.
The newcomers stood tall and confident, their expressions gleaming with wonder and hunger. Their garments—woven synthetics, utility belts, visors, and armor that glowed faintly—were unlike anything the locals had seen.
Some bore massive swords on their backs, others carried metallic rods that sparked with strange energy. A farmer from the nearest field whispered.
"Mages?"
Before backing away cautiously.
But the strange ones didn't speak the local tongue. They talked to one another in a clipped, unfamiliar dialect.
