In a realm where the arcane pulses with the very breath of the land, and shadows murmur secrets long forgotten, there exists a tale veiled in sorrow, splendor, and betrayal.
She was known as Vitaria—the Primordial Goddess of Life, the Mother Tree—her beauty unmatched, her essence divine. From her roots flowed the sacred energy that nourished entire worlds, sustaining the very balance of creation. But beneath her radiant light, a silent ache festered.
For untold eons, she stood as the eternal pillar of life—peerless in power, yet endlessly alone.
Then, from the ashes of creation, emerged the first mortal. Fashioned by the other Primordials to bring equilibrium to the void, he was the first of his kind. To Vitaria, he was more than a creation—he was a companion, a balm to her solitude.
Their bond deepened with time. She shared her wisdom, her ancient truths, her joys. And in the warmth of their shared existence, the world bloomed.
But their peace would not last.
Unbeknownst to her, the mortal was forged with secret intent. Bound to the will of the other Primordials, he betrayed her—stealing the Trinket of the Wheel of Creation, the very heart of her essence. His treachery shattered her spirit, leaving her hollow and broken.
In the grip of rage and sorrow, Vitaria cursed the mortal and his bloodline for eternity. Her once-pure light blackened into shadow, and from her corrupted fruit sprang the Scavengers—vengeful abominations born of divine wrath, forged to hunt and annihilate mortals in retribution.
Thus, the benevolent Goddess of Life became the harbinger of ruin.
The mortal, meanwhile, was exalted. Rewarded by the Primordials for fulfilling his grim task, he was granted immortality and ascended to godhood—usurping the very place of the Mother Tree.
But his triumph brought no solace.
As the Scavengers ravaged the mortal realms, regret consumed him. Haunted by the love he had destroyed, he turned his fury on the Primordials who had used him as their pawn.
In a final act of redemption, he sacrificed his divine body and soul, creating a beacon of hope for mortals. From his essence was born the Spiritual-core, a vessel of power that enabled mortals to harness the cosmic forces—Sacred Reiki of creation, Corrupted Reiki of destruction, and the ethereal balance of Spiritual Reiki.
And so began a new age.
The first twelve mortals to receive the Spiritual-core directly from the Ancestral God inherited raw, unfiltered divine power. Within mere centuries, they ascended, becoming Divine Rulers of vast worlds—gods in their own right.
Meanwhile, the stolen Wheel of Creation, now devoid of a guardian, fragmented into fourteen artifacts—Deity Trinkets. Two vanished into the folds of time; the remaining twelve resonated with the spirits of the twelve ascended mortals, reflecting their virtues, flaws, and beliefs.
But unity did not endure.
Conflicted by their ideals, the twelve deities divided. Those who sought unbridled power without restraint fell into darkness, embracing corrupted reiki and forsaking morality. They became known as the Fallen Deities.
Opposing them were the Divine Deities—those who cherished redemption and upheld the Ancestral God's legacy. They wielded Sacred Reiki, championing hope and salvation for mortals.
Thus, a new divine pantheon was born—twelve deities recognized by the very fabric of existence, their power eclipsing even the Primordials.
From their influence came the age of Rankers.
Through trials, ancient ruins, and perilous quests, mortals awakened to their own potential, forging paths of immense power. These Rankers, empowered by the Spiritual-core, became mankind's last defense against the endless tide of Scavengers.
But ambition breeds corruption.
Some Rankers, impatient with righteousness, strayed down darker paths. They embraced cruelty, chaos, and freedom through domination. These Heretic Rankers, followers of the Fallen Deities, discarded honor in pursuit of unchecked strength.
In contrast, others walked the path of light. Inspired by compassion and justice, they became Apostle Rankers, devout protectors of the innocent, defenders of the sacred, and disciples of the Divine Deities.
The world, already ravaged by one divine war, now bled from a second.
Heretic and Apostle clashed across realms, their conflict waging in tandem with the endless war against the Scavengers.
Temples rose in honor of the Divine Deities, while shrines of shadow worshiped the Fallen. Rankers became both heroes and villains—guardians of peace or reapers of destruction.
Yet even now, the Mother Tree's curse remains unbroken.
Her vengeance lingers through time, bound to the bloodline of the first mortal—her wrath eternal, her sorrow unyielding.
Was his sacrifice in vain?
Would her fury ever be quelled?
Or would the world be doomed to suffer in a cycle of war and ruin?
But hope yet flickers.
A prophecy whispers of a Child of Light—a soul reborn, destined to embody the radiance once lost. A vessel through whom the Mother Tree might finally find peace. This Vassal Lord, it is said, would mend the shattered world, bring unity where there is division, and silence the cries of vengeance once and for all.
Only the Mother Tree can quench her own wrath.
And so the world waits—for forgiveness, for redemption...
...for the end of the endless war.