The Primordial Battlefield did not announce the birth with trumpets or celestial choirs. It shuddered with a deep, tectonic agony that made the very atmosphere feel brittle.
Deep beneath layers of broken earth, ancient silt, and compressed mana veins that had bled into the soil for aeons, something ancient awakened.
It was not a Titan, for it possessed a cold, analytical clarity. It was not a god, for it lacked the arrogance of divine heritage.
It was something born in the liminal space between the two, forged from the desperation of a dying species and the calculation of a world that refused to be conquered.
The location was a forgotten fault zone, a place where the crust had been pulverized into powder by the relentless clashing of Aegis's legions and Ann's divine constructs.
