Eons ago, before the stars even dared to shine, there were four: Thanirra, Aglaireia, Sophryne, and Oraclyne. Together, they bore the chaos of the newly born cosmos, weaving order from the first spark of creation. Wars raged, alliances shattered, and secrets too deep for mortal minds were kept in their immortal hands.
But time is ruthless. Sophryne, the wisest and most powerful among them, had vanished into legend centuries ago, sacrificing herself to preserve the fragile balance of all existence. Out of her final act came Minerva and Maria, embodiments of her divided essence—two sides of one soul, yet never identical.
Now, the cosmos thrived, fragile and beautiful, yet Maria felt her strength slipping. Each pulse of life, each spark of consciousness, drew from her without mercy. Minerva watched silently, recognizing the first signs of exhaustion, the subtle flicker of her sister's once radiant light.
The other goddesses—Thanirra, Aglaireia, Oraclyne—were distant, enigmatic, their roles reduced to whispers in the halls of eternity. And yet their presence lingered, shadows of expectations and memories, shaping every choice Minerva and Maria would make.
The universe waited, fragile as glass, unaware of the quiet tension between the two. One carried the burden of fading divinity; the other, the sharp awareness that even gods could break. And somewhere between that fragility and inevitability, the story of energy, loyalty, and desire began anew.