Somewhere, far far above everything, stood nine thrones.
These thrones were absolutely majestic; it seemed they had been crafted by an incredible artisan to be nothing short of perfect.
Each of them bore a unique symbol at the top:
One had an hourglass, with its sand frozen in the middle.
Another displayed a majestic and glorious scythe.
A third held a book that seemed to contain the wisdom of the entire Universe.
The thrones were extremely detailed and stunning. Though completely black, they reflected countless colors in the eyes of those who looked at them.
They were arranged in a circle, and at the center floated countless Worlds, Galaxies, and Universes.
Upon these thrones sat nine figures.
An old man with a long white beard, who looked older than the Universe itself.
A child, no older than ten, licking an ice cream cone.
A gorgeous woman with a faint smile on her face.
A man in his twenties, dazzling in appearance, yet surrounded by a dense aura of death.
A middle-aged man with an angelic look.
A purple-haired man who seemed bored to be there.
A faceless woman, expressionless.
A young man with a wide smile, laughing loudly.
And a woman whose eyes reflected something ominous.
These nine beings looked with indifference at the countless universes below.
"Those nine supreme beings were incredibly powerful, they could crush the myriad worlds as if they were mere insects. Yet, they were lonely."
"The child gazed upward, as though reading something unseen.."
What was it that he was reading? No one could tell.
Suddenly, the child's eyes snapped open, wide with shock. His ice cream tumbled from his hand and vanished into the endless void beneath his throne. No sound echoed back, the abyss had no bottom.
Everyone turned their gaze toward the child, and the angelic-looking man asked:
"What is it, Silas? You've never dropped your ice cream before."
"I saw it"
"What did you see?"
The child replied with a slight smile.
"It's coming
The War is coming !"
For an instant, all the others looked shocked.
Then, the purple-haired man burst into laughter.
"It's finally here."
All of them looked excited except the angelic man.
They had waited for countless years.
But why were almost all of them so thrilled?
Because this was no ordinary war.
Not a petty conflict.
It's THE War.
The great War.
Then, in perfect unison, they spoke:
"The Great War for the [---] will finally begin
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Elsewhere, far, far below those nine thrones, stood the Ash Realm.
A planet-sized Human World, composed of three continents:
A land of ash where no human can live. Its rivers are lava and its mountains, volcanoes: the Tharagon Continent.
A vast desert, devoid of water or trees, inhabited only by monsters: the Solkara Continent.
And a beautiful land of half plains, half forests, where most of humanity resides: the Aerindel Continent.
Somewhere in the Aerindel Continent, beneath a scarlet moon shining brighter than ever before.
In a small forest stood a bright little house.
A child was born.
He looked like a pair of fragile twins, as if anything could easily break him.
His only remarkable trait was the color of his hair: red.
His name was Sirius Altharys.