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, as they were alive.
They were arranged in a circle, and at the center floated countless Worlds, Galaxies, and Universes.
Upon these thrones sat nine figures.
These nine beings looked with indifference at the countless universes below. As they were annoyed to be here.
Those nine supreme beings were incredibly powerful, they could crush the myriad worlds as if they were mere insects. Yet, they were lonely.
Seated on one of the nine thrones was a child, who couldn't have been more than ten, licking what appeared to be an ice cream cone.
The mysterious 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.
The child failed to maintain his emotions, his hair stood on end, the air suddenly became heavy and difficult to breathe. A slight crack appeared on his throne, as even the perfect throne failed to withstand the pressure. Countless worlds were instantly destroyed by the overwhelming force.
The blurry figure of the voluptuous woman to his right clicked her tongue in annoyance. It seemed this wasn't the child's first failure.
Everyone turned their gaze toward the child, curious yet prepared. If the child tried anything, they wouldn't let themselves be pushed around.
Especially the blurry figure in front of the child, with gorgeous purple hair that fell to his lower back. It seemed he wanted the child to make a move. This person was far too dangerous, even for the child. So he managed to properly regain control of his emotions a few seconds later.
An angelic-looking man, standing to the left of the purple-haired one, was releasing a thick mist from his hand as he asked:
"What is it, Silas? Why did you fail to maintain your demeanor? It's the second time in an eternity. Since when can someone like you, not control yourself?
A woman with a gigantic, frightening smile added another layer while laughing.
"Have you finally gone senile, old man? You were the first one here, after all."
The child seemed annoyed by both, but he answer calmly.
"my apologie, but i had no choice, I saw it after all."
"What did you see?"
The child rose from his seat, raised his voice replied with a slight smile.
"It's coming
The War is coming !"
For an instant, all the others looked shocked. As the news was nothing but life changing.
Then, the purple-haired man burst into laughter.
"It's finally here."
A third women replied, her whole face were blurry and she had no special trait, as she was faceless.
"It was indeed a good reason."
All of them looked excited except the angelic man. Who seems unwilling to fight.
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.
It was a war that would change everything in the hundred million worlds, A war that would affect every lifeform.
Then, in perfect unison, they spoke:
Their voices whisper across hundreds of millions of worlds, as if nothing could stop them.
"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 so fragile and thin, as if anything could easily break him.
His only remarkable trait was the color of his hair: red.
His name was Sirius Altharys.