The ruins of Murrchel Academy lay under a shroud of ash and glass dust, the scent of scorched mana clinging to every breath.
Above it all — suspended like an omen — the Kamora ship lingered. That alien ship's structure and body did not consist of earth metal. It seemed antediluvian, like a dark glassy element that came from stars of a bygone era. Azure flames drawn on it.
Two figures came down from this celestial opening. They both like same but the impression are different, like one is day another is night.
They landed soundlessly.
The wind trembled as if afraid to touch them.
Carla and Nepia.
Twin daughters of the Kamora Dominion.
The Moons of Thrommer.
Carla came out first. Long dark green hair tailing on her back this long hair is the only thing could differentiate she and Nepia, the hair catching the dim red light sun. Her silver eyes as like others members, never blinking cold and mute. She closely watched the humans below, her stare was to vivid almost as if she was scaling the worth of their soul.
She moved with a attitude in her like the grace of a frost-carved empress—each movement planned and carefully placed, as she moved the environment change with mana flow everywhere, cutting through the dust and ruin's like constant mana release.
"Pathetic life no reason to live yet living without any trouble" she said softly, her tone changing harsh to calm instant. "The solution has already take it place, the trouble is shown"
Behind her came Nepia — barefoot, wild, laughing like a storm that had learned to dance. Her hair, short and jagged, whipped in the wind, catching sparks of firelight that painted her silver eyes with lunacy. She hopped down from a broken arch, landing atop a fallen statue, humming a strange tune that no human tongue could mimic.
"Sister," Nepia grinned, teeth glinting like a predator's. "Don't say that. I like when they tremble. It makes the blood inside them… sing."
Her laugh echoed—thin, melodic, unholy. The very sound twisted the mana around her, warping the air as though reality itself flinched.
Carla turned her gaze slightly, eyes sharp as spears.
"You play too much, Nepia. Solvane gave you a duty. Do not taint it with your chaos."
Nepia crouched low, balancing on one knee atop the ruined statue, her grin widening.
"Oh, big sister… you always mistake joy for chaos. Isn't it beautiful when a world doesn't yet know it's dying?"
A sudden hum resonated through the air.
Behind the twins, a tall man descended — Trunk Hobber, the Keeper of the Kamora Ledger.
He was skeletal, composed, draped in white ceremonial robes woven with the faint luminescence of dying stars. His hair, like theirs, was a darkened moss green, though streaked with threads of gray. His silver eyes flickered constantly, scrolling through runic text visible only to him.
He held an ancient codex bound in black chains — the Ledger of Arrival, where the fate of every conquered planet was written before its final collapse.
Trunk's voice broke the silence. It was calm, brittle, and terrifyingly formal.
"Lord Solvane has completed the Declaration of Dominion. Nepia Thrommer, your task follows immediately I believe you remember that. Determine the temporal balance and spatial coordination of the 'Tournament of Survival.'"
Nepia leapt from the statue, her bare feet touching the scorched ground as if weightless. Her smile softened—only slightly.
"Isn't that too rush, but it's exciting though"
She looked toward the east, where the distant night horizon bled faint auroras — the River of Holem Empire. The first thing she used her system know as 'Kelurolex' In sekron language. For the geography map of earth and the balance order of power.
Hours later — Gureion Country, Lord Vaskho Town, River of Holem Empire
The control center of the world—an ancient, crystalline tower that hummed with planetary mana, its circuits older than any empire—shivered as the Kamurine vessel pierced through its atmosphere.
Citizens looked up in horror.
A green comet streaked across the sky, trailing threads of darkness and alien fire.
And then—impact.
The earth split open at the tower's heart. Out from the fissure rose Nepia, wrapped in a storm of azure mist and laughter. The guards drew weapons, trembling. The air tasted of metal and decay.
She walked forward, every step sinking slightly into the marble as if the world itself bent to her will.
"Who commands this place?" she asked, tilting her head, her tone both childish and chilling. "Who writes the fate of your world's time?"
No one dared speak.
"Are those the aliens? Don't tell me they invaded the Feysich Empire yesterday… and now they're here," one of the townsfolk murmured.
"Yeah… they made a huge explosion at Murrchel Academy. How did they move that fast?" another said.
"It's a three-month road, goddamnit! They crossed it in a single day… The news is true—the Earth's going to be demolished by those aliens. No one's gonna save us!" a third shouted.
"Wait… Murrchel, right? That's in Romero Country. That's a four-month road even with a royal carriage," someone else argued, panicking.
"Ever heard of teleportation magic? I think that's how they got here," another whispered, eyes wide.
Above them, Nepia hovered, her presence threatening, casting a shadow over the terrified townsfolk. They froze, hearts hammering… it felt like it was truly over.
She raised her hand. The runes burned through the sky — Kamurine script, alive, writhing, devouring.
The control tower's crystals bent toward her like flowers before the sun.
With a smile too wide for her face, she whispered—
"Then I shall do it myself."
She snapped her fingers—once.
In the heart of Lord Vaskho Town, silence cracked. Then the ground convulsed.
A blinding sigil of Kamurine runes surged beneath the cobblestone streets, burning through soil and stone like molten scripture.
Light speared upward—columns of radiant chaos twisting into existence, forming arcs, bridges, and obsidian gates suspended in the air. The screams of mortals were drowned by the roar of creation itself.
Within heartbeats, the entire town was engulfed by a storm of light and shadow.
And when it cleared—
The arena was huge, with walls made of crystallized mana. Serpentine carvings glowed like veins across the structure. It was so big it blocked the view of everything around it, like markets and temples. Thousands of house, shop, people place terminate as the arena summon one the center many people get caught into that summoning magic disaster.
"In nine days, your survival trial will be began.
The place of battle — the Celestial Tartarus Jorgdonm.
The only thing could save you, is the one who creates insects"