In ages long past, when power itself had a name, all races roamed the world—elfes, dwarves, half-humans, fairies, demons, and humans. Life teetered on the brink of extinction, torn apart by the Great War, a conflict unparalleled in history. Every race fought against one another, columns of fire rose to the skies, and the cries of children filled the air. Many races, like the fairies and dwarves, were wiped out, leaving only a few wandering souls without home or hope.
As the war intensified, humanity itself nearly perished, battered by the relentless onslaught of the demonic hordes. When the humans finally accepted the bitter truth and surrendered to their inevitable doom, a spark appeared—a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel. This spark was the last savior of humanity, a lone hero embodying every meaning of greatness. He was known as Alovenus: the strongest of all beings, the terror of giants, the lord of destruction.
Alovenus was the first and only human wizard among all races, wielding twelve legendary magical rings. He crushed demon armies as effortlessly as one crushes ants. The tide of the war shifted completely with his arrival, and the massive demonic legions fell to a single spell after another. Thus, the Great War ended with humanity victorious, ushering in a new age of peace and harmony.
Yet, Alovenus himself was not content. Bored with the era of peace, he decided to craft a spell of reincarnation, seeking an era more entertaining, as he put it. With the spell activated, he vanished, and thus ended his tale… for now.
Fifty thousand years passed. Civilization rose and fell, mountains crumbled, forests thrived and perished, and the echoes of the Great War became little more than whispers in the sands of time. Humanity rebuilt itself, creating new societies, legends, and heroes—but the memory of Alovenus faded into myth. Time flowed like a river, carrying the world through eons, until it brought us to a night that would awaken something long forgotten.
Scene Two: Chapter One
In a dimly lit room on a cold, rainy night, a twelve-year-old boy sat alone. His hair was white with a touch of gray, one eye a vibrant green like peridot, the other a blazing red, appearing as if it contained fire. His delicate, innocent features were etched with sorrow, for he had been tormented by his peers—mocked, called a family disgrace, a disappointment, a failure, and more. The pain weighed heavily on him, and he wept, whispering to himself:
"Why? Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?"
In that moment of utter despair, Alovenus's reincarnation spell activated. Their souls merged—Alovenus's powerful spirit took control, while the boy's essence remained only in memories and lingering emotions. Alovenus placed a hand on the boy's cheek, feeling his new body, and smiled broadly.
"Now," he said, "we begin anew, toward transcendence.