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The Age of Force

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7
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Synopsis
Monsters didn’t fall from the sky, they crawled out from the dark corners of the world, tearing reality open as humanity watched in horror. Lucian, a former soldier just trying to make it home, finds himself trapped in a world where pale creatures stalk the night. When he faces them head-on, he begins to sense something impossible, a pull, a vibration, a force beneath the surface of reality itself. He doesn’t know what it means yet, but he knows one thing “the monsters aren’t done changing” As cities fall and humanity fractures, Lucian must protect his sister, uncover the truth of these “failed creations,” and survive the coming of beings far beyond mortal understanding, the Demi-Gods who claim dominion over life itself. The apocalypse isn’t the end. It’s the start of evolution.
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

When the gods grew tired of mankind's greed, they did not strike the earth with flame or flood. They tore open the horizon and summoned what lay beyond it, creatures born of emptiness, older than the stars, beings that obeyed no law known to man.

The monsters fell upon the world like a second dawn, their voices louder than thunder, their hunger without end. Cities became graves of glass and metal. Oceans frothed red. The sky dimmed beneath their wings and claws.

Humanity's weapons broke. Armies crumbled. For a time, there was only running and silence.

But the gods' punishment did not end with monsters. They rewrote the laws of motion and matter, strengthening the Forces that bind all things. Gravity grew heavy, pressure keener, resistance alive. The world itself pulsed with power that no human mind could fully grasp.

In that new chaos, the survivors discovered a spark an instinct. Some could feel the rhythm of these wild laws and bend them through will alone. They called the practice Kineturgy, the divine art of Force.

The strong learned to shatter stone with a breath, to turn storms aside with their hands. The weak learned to hide. Bands of survivors scavenged what the old world left behind, scraps of food, fuel, and memory, fighting not just the beasts but each other.

Among them wandered a man different from the rest. His name was whispered like a warning. When he touched another being, he felt its pulse of existence—the Animus, the life-force no mortal was meant to sense.

At first, his gift was ruin. His touch drained warmth, stilled hearts. But in the long winters of hunger and fear, he learned control. The Force that once consumed could now restore. He could take life, or return it.

The scavengers began to follow him, calling him a thief of souls, a savior of the dying or both.

As years passed, his reach grew. No longer bound by touch alone, he could sense life at a distance, the flicker of breath in a collapsing ruin, the fading spark of a wounded ally.

And still the monsters came.

The gods had unleashed them to erase mankind, but mankind endured, hungry, scarred, unbroken.

In the wastelands of a remade world, one man gathered the fragments of human life and dared to defy the heavens themselves.

The gods sent monsters to end humanity.

Humanity answered with Force.