The camera lifted, rising from the desert sands where Kairo and Igron stood. Their crimson auras flickered faintly, chains coiled, Bone Blade sheathed. Below, the desert stretched endlessly, shimmering under the sun.
Higher and higher it went, past mountains, forests, and rivers, until the entire continent sprawled beneath them. And there, layered above one another, the four realms became clear.
A deep, resonant voice echoed across the sky, carrying the weight of eternity:
"Behold the structure of this world, where fate itself is stacked like pillars of power."
"The lowest, the Common Realm, is home to the many. Born into hardship, they toil, they suffer, and they die knowing the sky is forever beyond their reach. To live here is to be tethered to failure."
"Above it lies the Realm of Trade — a crucible of commerce, crime, and opportunity. Here, slaves are sold, guild adventurers ply their dangerous crafts, and kings govern in divided dominions. Neagon, Devaulth, and Alfred rule this tier, shaping the fortunes of all beneath."
"The upper middle realm is where ambition flourishes. Dukes, nobles, and those gifted with scholarships study here, honing magical skill and strategy. Here, prodigies are forged, and here begins the journey of one who has conquered Hell itself."
"And the Upper Realm, the domain of monarchs and the highest noble clans. Their children descend to the upper middle realm to study, yet none may ascend without invitation. Born to power, their paths are assured, untouched by struggle."
The voice softened, carrying weighty gravitas:
"In this world, power is layered, and destiny tests all who rise. And now… one who has walked the depths of Hell itself steps among mortals, bearing blood, bone, and vengeance. His name will echo in every realm he touches."
The camera lingered on Kairo and Igron, standing at the edge of the desert, their silhouettes small against the sprawling world. Beyond them lay cities, forests, and mountains — the first steps into a life they had only begun to imagine.
From the heavens, the Mad King looked down, his piercing gaze scanning the world below. A figure of radiant authority approached — Lucifer himself, voice calm and absolute.
"My king," Lucifer said, voice carrying like thunder, "the one they call the Red-Eyed One has arrived in your world. He has walked Hell and emerged alive, bearing power beyond mortal comprehension. His path leads here, to your lands."
The Mad King's crimson eyes glimmered with interest, a manic smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah… so the child of Hell comes to play in my world?" His voice was equal parts amusement and malice. "This could be… entertaining."
Lucifer inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "He is not merely a player in your world. He carries the weight of battles none could imagine. Watch carefully, for his presence will shake the very foundations of your realm."
The king leaned back, laughter bubbling softly but darkly, his gaze still fixed on the desert below. "Let him come. Let the Red-Eyed One step into my world. I've been waiting for such a storm."
Below, Kairo and Igron remained unaware of the watchful eyes above. The Mad King now knew of the Red-Eyed One — the mortal-turned-abyssal warrior who had survived Hell itself. And the Human World's fate, already unstable, was about to be tested like never before.