[Somewhere between heaven and hell]
Ash rained from the sky like black snow.
The battlefield expanded endlessly, spanning beyond the world itself into the vast reaches of the galaxy.
Cracked stone, scorched fields, and rivers of blood carved through what was once a thriving land. Above, the sky tore in half—one side bathed in divine gold, the other choked in abyssal crimson.
War has consumed the Universe!
On one side stood a grand alliance—the last hope of the mortal and celestial races. Humans clad in enchanted and Divine steel. Elven archers and sorcerers with arrows wreathed in silver flame. Dwarven berserkers shouting war cries in their deep tongue. Dragons soared over planets, wings covering up an entire planet, their roars shaking the cosmos. And at their center stood the radiant hosts: the Angels.
At the forefront, an all-powerful, radiant angel emerged, an awe-inspiring figure of divine prowess. His four immaculate white wings unfurled majestically, illuminating the heavens. His armor shone with the brilliance of the sun, engraved with sacred runes that shimmered with unfathomable power.
General Azrail, the Sword of Heaven.
He raised his blade to the sky, and his voice echoed like thunder across the battlefield:
"Today, we stand not as angels, nor humans, nor dwarves, nor any other races. We stand as one—defiant, unbroken! Let them come with their shadows, their curses, their hellfire—we will meet them with light, steel, and fury! For every fallen friend, for every lost home, we shall answer with vengeance! Let this be their end—or our eternal glory!"
The alliance roared in response. Millions of voices became one.
And then came the darkness.
The demon legions surged forward like a living tide—snarling, screeching, hissing. Succubi with crimson wings glided across the skies, trailing whispers of lust and despair. Incubi led frenzied charges of corrupted beasts. Shadow demons slithered between dimensions, blinking in and out of view. Vampires danced through the air with blood-soaked blades, while werewolves howled their hatred to a broken moon.
From among them, a great stone demon laughed—a grotesque titan with molten cracks across its skin.
"You speak of glory, angel... but I see only death! This world is ours. Your gods have turned their backs. Your light fades. And soon... You will too."
A beastkin war maiden—a fox-kin with ember eyes—screamed in fury, leaping into the fray with twin katanas. Behind her, cat-kin scouts and boar-kin warriors followed, their claws and axes eager for blood.
The clash came like a storm.
Steel met fang. Flame met frost. Light met shadow.
The battlefield became a chasm of chaos.
.........
A hundred thousand years later...
[World of humans, Humanitus]
The grass was soft beneath their feet.
In the garden of a grand mansion—styled like something from the age of kings, yet humming quietly with magic-forged machines—three children played beneath the watchful gaze of the midday sun.
Laughter filled the air.
A little girl, no older than ten, dashed across the garden path with reckless joy. Her silver hair fluttered behind her like silk ribbons, and her small ruby-like red eyes sparkled with delight as she squealed with glee.
Chasing her was a boy—twelve years old, with the same silver hair but eyes of glittering gold that seemed to reflect more than just sunlight. He was fast, determined, and laughing like the happiest child.
Trailing slightly behind them was their older sister, fourteen years old, matching the same enthusiasm as them. Her jet-black hair and crimson-red eyes mirrored those of her father, and though she ran more slowly, her smile carried a quiet warmth.
Three uniformed maids stood nearby, observing with fond smiles and a few worried glances. Their eyes stayed sharp, their posture alert, but they didn't intervene. The children were happy. That was enough.
This was their daily routine to stand guard and keep an eye on them.
Then—without any warning—the world shook and the sky cracked right above their heads.
A bolt of black lightning tore down from the cloudless sky.
It struck the silver-haired boy in an instant.
There was no time to scream. No time to move. The light swallowed him whole—and then he collapsed.
The air trembled.
For a single breath, silence fell like a blanket. Even the birds stopped singing.
The three maids were frozen as if their training was for nothing to save their young master from harm's way.
Then chaos erupted.
The youngest girl fell to her knees, screaming. The eldest sister stood frozen in shock. The maids rushed forward in panic, their training barely keeping them focused as panic flared across the estate.
The boy didn't move, ground beneath his feet was charred and formed a crater around him. His body was charred too and was sparking the remaining lightning around him, he looked miserable and appeared dead.
He was standing still for a few moments as a result of instantaneous neurological and muscular damage, effectively "freezing" the boy in place. His body trembled once… then stilled.
His eyes, once full of life, stared upward—glassy, fading.
The world tilted around him, colors blending into shadow.
And in the final moments of his consciousness, he saw her.
His mother.
She ran across the garden with no grace, no noble poise—only raw terror in her eyes. Her long silver hair flew behind her like wings, her voice shattered by panic as she screamed his name.
"SHIN!!"
The boy wanted to reach for her—but his fingers didn't move.
His vision blurred.
And just before the dark swallowed everything…
She froze as she watched him dying right in front of her. Her breath caught, lips parting while her eyes widened, unable to blink or look away. The color drained from her face, her chest tightening with shock and helplessness, and all she could do was stare as the moment unfolded.
Then… silence.
.........