Everything began when mankind forgot their god and became consumed by the affairs of daily life.
When humans first descended to Earth, they thrived under the guidance of the divine. And as a mark of their devotion, God gifted them a sacred stone:
"Forged from the breath of the heavens, shaped by the hands of God himself, a holy gem whose power could only be borne by the chosen few: Zephyronite."
As humanity grew in number and reached prosperity, their need for God faded.Most no longer knew Him. They broke His laws without fear or reverence.Witnessing this, God sent his angels to Earth—to guide the lost.
3000 B.C. – The Arukhal Tribe
Horak burned like fire.Morak was the smoke rising from that fire.Together, they were the embodiment of sin.
Horak was the tribe's fiercest hunter—proud, brutal, and obsessed with power.He relished displays of dominance and could not tolerate anyone stronger than himself.Morak was greedy. He wanted everything for himself, yet he was lazy.He worked only when he wished, spending the rest of his time with the women of the tribe.
These two had been close since childhood—more like brothers than friends.Until the day of the curse.
Horak stared at Morak, eyes wide with disbelief.How could this be?
He had just slain a two-meter-tall winged being that had fallen from the sky—with a spear gifted to him by the tribal chief.
The creature had claimed to be a messenger of God.
Horak exhaled deeply.
"A messenger of God?A god who cannot protect his own messenger—How could he possibly guide us?"
He gripped the wings of the corpse and pulled out his spear.Morak, smirking mockingly, knelt beside him.
"Who cares? We hunted it. That means it's ours now.This corpse should be eaten by us—No, just by me.You wouldn't enjoy it anyway.And we definitely shouldn't tell the others.That's a divine messenger lying on the ground.If the old farts in the tribe saw this, they'd skin us alive—Especially Garnak. He already hates us.If we drag this thing back, we'll be punished for sure.I need to eat it. Now."
The angel lay motionless.Morak's eyes gleamed with madness as he grabbed its head.
"You said you were the voice of God…"(He pressed a finger to the wound Horak had made.)"Then… I must taste God."
He didn't use his fingers—he tore at the flesh with his teeth.Raw, warm...Meat cursed by divine wrath.
Morak chewed the flesh of divine fear, gnawed the belief from a bleeding body.
And then,a voice rang out:
"✦ⱯḌᴀẞ ṬẎҬ'Ʌ ḶUМⱯN ӜӨʮⱯ!""Ҏ̴̶ⱯḌᴀẞ Ⱨ̴̢ⱯLҨ R̶ŦᚨⱯL."
The ground began to shake. Trees cracked and split.
"If you're a god, why didn't you protect him?No. You can't be God.What kind of god can't even defend what he created?!"
"✦ŊⱯⱧꞨ OʁҬ LᶄⱯⱤҔ!"
Morak covered his ears with trembling hands—But the voice didn't come from the outside.It echoed from the depths of his mind.
Horak dropped to his knees.The words were incomprehensible,but their hearts…Their hearts seemed to understand their guilt.
The ground beneath them crumbled.
Morak couldn't scream.Couldn't hold on.For one brief moment, his eyes met Horak's.
They were falling.
They were trapped between a minute and a millennium.Everything around them shimmered and collapsed at once.
Then—
A whisper.A moan.A wound in the silence.
They never hit the ground.Or perhaps…They had been on the ground all along.
The surface was hard.Were they standing on stone—or scorched bone?
They couldn't tell.