In Nethania, time flowed to a different rhythm.
A single month stretched across sixty days, and a year turned in an eighteen-month cycle. To the countless civilizations that would one day inhabit the world, this system was as natural as breathing. Kingdoms rose and fell according to its cycles, crops were planted and harvested to its steady beat, and entire generations lived and died beneath its passage.
But before time could flow, it first had to begin.
Before kingdoms, before dragons, before gods established their divine thrones, and even before the existence of mana itself, there was only the Void.
It was an endless, suffocating darkness that stretched beyond imagination. No stars illuminated the abyss; no planets drifted through the emptiness. There was no sound, no light, and even the concepts of existence and nonexistence held no meaning. Everything remained trapped within an eternal stillness where nothing moved, nothing changed, and nothing lived. There was no beginning and no end—only an infinite sea of absolute silence.
Then, something impossible happened.
A crack appeared. Not a crack in space or reality, for neither yet existed, but a fracture within the stillness itself. A tiny disturbance, a single imperfection within eternity. At first, it was insignificant, barely noticeable. Yet that tiny disturbance continued to grow—slowly, relentlessly—until a spark finally emerged from the heart of the darkness.
It was a tiny point of light, small enough to vanish within an ocean, yet bright enough to challenge the Void itself. The spark drifted aimlessly, guided by no purpose and controlled by no hand. It simply moved. And in doing so, it created something that had never existed before: change.
The moment the spark shifted, the stillness shattered. The first second was born, followed by the second, and then the third. Time had begun.
The Awakening of Existence
The Void trembled. For the first time in eternity, existence possessed motion.
Energy surged through the endless darkness. Invisible currents collided, light exploded outward, and the dark retreated as matter formed and reality awakened. Countless reactions unfolded simultaneously across the newborn cosmos in violent storms of creation: stars ignited, worlds were born, galaxies expanded, and the foundations of existence took shape.
What had once been an empty Void transformed into a universe overflowing with infinite possibilities. Among the countless worlds born during that age, one would eventually become special—a world that would attract the attention of powers beyond comprehension and serve as the stage upon which fate itself would wage war.
That world was Nethania.
Colossal in scale, Nethania was more than twice the size and mass of Earth. Its continents stretched for unimaginable distances, its oceans appeared boundless, its mountains pierced the heavens, and its ancient forests concealed mysteries older than civilization itself.
Most importantly, mana flowed through every corner of its existence.
Mana—the fundamental energy of creation, the invisible force responsible for miracles, the lifeblood of gods, and the source of all magic. From the deepest oceans to the highest peaks, mana saturated every inch of Nethania. It flowed through rivers, drifted within winds, slept beneath mountains, and gathered within stars, making the world feel vibrantly, wonderfully alive.
Yet Nethania did not create itself.
Fourteen towering beings stood above the newborn world, watching, observing, and waiting. Their forms towered beyond mortal comprehension; their presence alone distorted reality, their thoughts could reshape continents, and their voices could shatter worlds.
They were the first gods—the architects of creation and the rulers of Nethania.
Yet despite their immense power, even they could not answer one simple question: Where did they come from?
No memories existed before their awakening. No records remained, and no clues survived. Each god remembered only opening their eyes within the Void, witnessing creation unfold, and feeling inexplicably drawn toward Nethania as though summoned by fate itself. For ages they observed the growing world before finally descending together.
The first among them to step forward was Aurelion, God of Order. Golden light radiated from his figure, his eyes resembling miniature suns, and every movement carrying absolute precision.
"The world requires structure," he declared.
Extending his hand without hesitation, invisible laws spread throughout reality. Gravity stabilized, space solidified, natural order emerged, and the foundations of existence grew strong.
Next came Serapha, Goddess of Light. Her radiance illuminated entire continents, bringing warmth wherever her power touched. The first sunlight broke across the sky, bringing the first rays of hope into creation.
Then came Valtor, God of Wisdom. His knowledge seemed endless as he observed the newborn world, recording every detail within the fabric of reality so that learning, understanding, and knowledge could become possible.
One after another, the remaining gods shaped the world:
Elyndra breathed life into barren lands.
Caelum scattered stars across the heavens.
Ilyra governed the flow of time.
Tharos established judgment and consequence.
Opposing them stood seven equally powerful deities: Mordrak, Nyxara, Velzhar, Drakari, Othuun, Zeraphine, and Malgor. Together, they introduced destruction, darkness, freedom, chaos, death, secrets, and ambition.
At first glance, their domains seemed opposed to the Anarica, yet none sought conflict. Without destruction, creation would stagnate; without death, life would lose meaning; without ambition, civilizations would never advance; and without freedom, existence would become a prison.
Balance emerged not through dominance or righteousness, but through opposition.
The Five Great Realms
The fourteen gods divided existence into Five Great Realms:
Heavania: The highest realm, a transcendent domain beyond mortal comprehension and the seat of the Anarica Divinity.
The Heaven Realm: A paradise inhabited by celestial races, divine beasts, and immortal servants.
The Mortal Realm: The central stage and future home of countless races—humans, elves, dwarves, giants, spirits, beastkin, dragons, and those yet to be born.
The Hell Realm: A harsh, unforgiving land where survival itself became a form of strength.
Hellaru: The lowest point of existence, the domain of the Zanabu Divinity where darkness reigned and even gods respected ancient powers hidden within its depths.
Once the realms were established, the creators watched as years passed, then centuries, then millennia. Life emerged, plants spread, creatures evolved, and civilizations slowly began to appear. The world flourished, and for the first time since creation, the gods found themselves content.
The Prophecy of the Impossible
Ten thousand years passed. The Mortal Realm entered a golden age of prosperity with ancient kingdoms rising, magic developing, and great beasts roaming untamed lands. Everything seemed destined to continue forever—until the impossible happened.
Within the highest reaches of Heavania, a disturbance appeared.
At first, it was small and almost invisible, yet every god sensed it immediately. Aurelion's eyes snapped open. Far away, Serapha stopped speaking. Mordrak frowned, and Nyxara turned her gaze toward the heavens.
One by one, all fourteen gods looked toward the same point in space.
A fragment of parchment materialized. No divine energy surrounded it, no mana sustained it, and no law governed it. Its very existence violated every rule of reality. Silence filled Heavania as even the gods hesitated.
As the parchment floated slowly through the air, Aurelion reached toward it. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, golden symbols erupted across it, spelling out ancient words older than creation itself.
The expressions of the fourteen gods shifted. For the first time in ten thousand years, fear appeared within their eyes.
Inscribed upon the parchment was a prophecy hidden from divine sight, fate, and time itself. It spoke of a single mortal—a being whose existence should have been impossible. A being destined to shatter the chains governing reality, transcending kings, saints, apostles, and gods alike to stand one day above Divinity itself.
The hall fell deathly silent. Even Ilyra, Goddess of Time, found herself unable to see beyond the words before her. The future had become obscured, the threads of fate had vanished, and something beyond divine understanding had entered the game.
Then, a final line appeared upon the parchment, sending a tremor through the entire realm:
The birth has already begun.
BOOM!
Across every realm, reality shook. Mountains cracked, oceans surged, stars flickered, and the laws of existence trembled.
Far below the heavens, far below the notice of mortals, and far beyond the reach of kings within a forgotten corner of the Mortal Realm, a woman suddenly gasped.
A faint pulse of golden light emerged from her stomach.
For a brief, arresting moment, fourteen divine gazes descended upon the world—watching, waiting, and observing. And somewhere within the vast, ancient world of Nethania, the child of prophecy was about to enter existence.
To be continued...