The sky tore open
— What… what is that…?
People stopped in the middle of the street—some dropping their bags, others forgetting their phones still recording. Above them, the blue sky vanished, replaced by black rifts, like open wounds carved into the world itself. One by one, gigantic portals appeared in the sky—and soon after, colossal towers, so tall they seemed to pierce the clouds.
— My God…
— Run!
Panic spread faster than sound. Cars crashed, storefront windows shattered, screams echoed in every direction. This wasn't happening in just one place. On store screens, live broadcasts showed the same scene repeating all over the world.
At first, governments tried to understand.
Scientists, military forces, specialists—everyone failed.
Then, something came out of the portals.
Grotesque creatures crossed the rifts, tearing through asphalt, crushing buildings, turning cities into living hells. The flames of the apocalypse engulfed entire continents.
But… it wasn't a one-sided massacre.
As if the world itself refused to accept such injustice, some people began to change.
Amid the chaos, an unknown energy awakened within ordinary humans. A strange, violent power—impossible to explain. A select few had become capable of fighting back against the creatures.
— AAAAAARRRGH!
A man in armor charged forward, planting his feet as he raised his shield. The impact of the monster's assault made the metal groan, cracks spreading across its surface. Still, he didn't retreat.
— Hurry! Get out of here! — he shouted, holding the line alone.
Behind him, a man in torn robes brought his hands together in front of his chest. The air around him trembled, the ground vibrating beneath his feet.
A-almost there… — the mage muttered, sweat streaming down his face.
— MOVE IT!! — the tank roared, feeling his shield begin to give way.
— Three… two… one… Down!!
The armored man dove aside at the exact moment a massive sphere of fire formed between the mage's hands—and was unleashed.
The explosion swallowed the monsters in flames.
Elsewhere in the world, other awakenings were happening.
In the ruins of a collapsed hospital, a woman knelt among the dead. They were all acquaintances of hers. She was the only one who survived.
Her breath was shallow. When she opened her eyes, they shone gold—and the wounds covering her body began to close on their own.
On a battlefield already reduced to silence, a man who should have died stood back up. His heart no longer beat—yet something within him moved. He was looking for something that could not be found.
Different places.Different powers.The same beginning.
Many of them were chosen; some became legends, others became monsters.
The Golden Lion
The God of Fire
The Sword Demon
The Dragonslayer
The Darkhorse of Light
The Lord Of The Stars
He Who Stood Against the Sky
The Guardian Angel
That year became known as Year zero.
And on that day—the day the world was ending—a child was born.
One who should never be put into song.A waste of breath. One who should never have been born.