Long ago, before history began, five powerful gods came together to build the world. Each one brought something special to the creation.
There was Emberlyn, the goddess of fire. She filled the world with warmth and light, and gave all living things their passion and spirit. Next was Kagerou, the god of lightning. He was fast and unpredictable, carving the sky with brilliant flashes and filling the air with the rumble of thunder. Then came Akira, the goddess of the earth. She was patient and strong, raising the great mountains and nurturing the soil so that forests and fields could grow. Finally, there was Hiroki, the god of metal and steel. His will was absolute, and he forged the unbreakable bones of the world—the deep ore and the shining metals.
And there was a fifth: Kurozai.
Where his siblings made light, sound, and solid things, Kurozai's role was different. He was the god of shadow and darkness. He gave depth to Emberlyn's light by casting soft shadows. He gave weight to Kagerou's sky with the silence that follows thunder. He provided a dark contrast to Akira's green earth and made Hiroki's polished metals gleam brighter. He was the necessary balance, the quiet rest at the end of the day.
But over time, Kurozai's heart grew cold. He began to see his role not as balance, but as inferior. Shadows were patient. Shadows were eternal. While light and life were bright, they were also fleeting. Why should he, who represented the quiet, enduring dark, be less important than his siblings?
His jealousy festered into a terrible ambition. He decided he didn't want to be a part of their world; he wanted to be the only god ruling over it. He wanted to unmake their creation and build a new one from the shadows, with himself as its supreme master.
He didn't start a war. Instead, he tried to poison the very magic that held their divine promise together—the Celestial Pact that kept their powers in harmony. The moment he touched the Pact with his dark intent, the heavens shook. The other four gods felt a sickness in their souls, a sudden weakness, as if the foundation of reality itself was cracking.
They joined their strength, not to fight him, but to desperately push his poisonous influence out. They could not destroy their brother, but they could cast him out. With a final, collective effort, they forced his dark essence out of the celestial realm. Kurozai fell from the heavens like a dying star, his power bleeding into the mortal world below as he screamed his hatred. He was gone, but not defeated. He was now down there, somewhere, seeking a way to finish what he started.
Weakened and wounded, the four remaining gods faced a terrible problem. The Celestial Pact was now fragile. If they tried to fight Kurozai directly, their struggle could shatter it completely and destroy the world. They could not walk the earth themselves.
They needed champions. Mortals who could carry a piece of their divine power and fight for them. They weren't looking for empty puppets to control. They needed partners—human beings whose spirits were already a little like their own, hearts that could hold a god's power without breaking.
And so, they sent their consciousness sweeping across the world, a silent call only the right person could feel. They searched for a mind sharp and quick as lightning, a will as strong and unyielding as steel, a heart as nurturing and steady as the earth, and a spirit as fierce and passionate as fire.
They found four.
They would bind their fate to these four mortals. They would grant them incredible power. These four would become the Celestial Guardians, the last line of defense against the falling darkness.