Velmora, once the pinnacle of balance between technology and magic, now barely preserves traces of what it once was. Its transformation wasn't gradual, but abrupt and devastating.
In its beginnings, this world flourished under the harmonious coexistence of two races: humans, masters of technological innovation, and elves, beings of incomparable beauty endowed with the innate gift of magic. Together they built a prosperous civilization where each race contributed its unique strengths.
Until the sky tore open.
An inexplicable rift appeared in the firmament on an ordinary day, suspended like an open wound in the very fabric of reality. Human scientists were perplexed; no instrument, no theory could explain that phenomenon.
Worried, human leaders consulted the elves.
"It's harmless," the elves assured with serene confidence. "It will disappear in a few days."
Humans trusted the ancestral wisdom of their magical allies. It was their fatal error.
One night, while the city slept, the rift expanded. From it emerged hordes of creatures, some resembling insects but of impossible proportions, others completely alien to any known classification. They all shared one characteristic: they were relentless and lethal.
Dawn revealed a nightmare landscape. Buildings reduced to rubble. Streets stained red. Mutilated and dismembered bodies lay where homes and families once stood. The screams of survivors mingled with the inhuman shrieks of the invading creatures.
The human army deployed its entire arsenal: state-of-the-art tanks, supersonic fighters, smart missiles. Cutting-edge technology that had been their pride for decades. All proved useless. The creatures absorbed the impact of bullets as if they were rain and knocked down aircraft as easily as a child crushes insects.
In their desperation, humans awaited the intervention of the elves, their magical allies... who never came. Abandoned to their fate, many believed they were witnessing the final days of their species.
Then an unexpected savior emerged.
Among the smoking ruins of what was once a metropolis appeared a lone man. Nathan Valemont, a simple engineer whom many recognized from his work at a prominent technology company. He wore an experimental tactical suit and carried a glowing orb that pulsed with its own light.
Without rest, without pause to eat or sleep, Nathan confronted the creatures one by one. Where he stepped, he left trails of yellow electricity. Where he struck, beasts fell. For days, he was a tireless hunter, gradually reducing the number of invaders.
Finally, he faced the alpha creature. A winged colossus that darkened the reddish sky, with an anatomy that defied all logic and seemed extracted from the darkest nightmares. The battle was epic and desperate.
Nathan prevailed, but paid the ultimate price. When the alpha beast fell, the rift closed violently, as if it had never existed. And among the rubble lay the lifeless body of the engineer who had saved humanity.
The sacrifice of Nathan Valemont was neither in vain nor forgotten. A colossal monument rose in his honor, but his true legacy was much deeper.
Scientists analyzed the orb he had used. What they discovered forever changed the course of history: the artifact contained elven magic, connected through advanced biotechnology to Nathan's nervous system. The conclusion was revolutionary: humans could also channel magic; they just needed to obtain it first.
And so came the Day of Judgment.
Driven by thirst for vengeance against those who had abandoned them in their darkest hour, humans attacked the elven settlements. The massacre was swift and merciless. Few elves survived, reducing their population to less than 10%. The survivors were captured or forced into hiding, deprived of their ability to use magic.
With magical power now under human control, the Sealer Agency was born. Their mission: to combat the continuing threat of dimensional rifts that kept appearing. The Sealers became humanity's new first line of defense, willing to sacrifice themselves as Nathan had done.
Years later, the Academy of Sealers was founded, an institution that trained new generations in the art of controlling magic. Enrollment was mandatory from age 16 for descendants of active or retired Sealers.
Among these new recruits was Dren Valemont, grandson of the legendary Nathan. His lineage was doubly distinguished: not only by his grandfather's feats but because his parents, Julius Valemont and Elizabeth Gravewind, were elite Sealers. His father held the S+ rank and his mother the A+, within the hierarchical system that classified both Sealers and the dimensional threats they faced.
In this new Velmora, magic had replaced technology as the dominant force. Magical power determined status and promotion possibilities. Conventional weapons, even firearms, had become obsolete against interdimensional creatures.
A new era had begun, forged in blood and built upon the ashes of the old order.