"If humans are inherently evil… why do we cherish goodness, hope, freedom, and justice?
Are we truly wicked, or is it the world that teaches us to become so?"
---
The sky of Gaia burned crimson that day.
Thunder rumbled like a divine judgment, splitting clouds apart, while flocks of birds screeched like corrupted crows, fighting over the last worm crawling across the scorched sand.
In the desolate Chalchiuhtlicue Desert, life was nothing more than a fading memory.
The golden dunes stretched endlessly, burying what was once a sacred land beneath the ashes of despair. The world itself was dying.
And in this dying world, six heroes — known as the Superhumans — marched through an army of nightmares.
They were humanity's last light.
They were the "New Gods."
---
Godrick the Great, the Superhuman of the Sword.
A man whose sense of justice equaled only the sharpness of his blade — a towering warrior with flowing hair and the tempered physique of a northern barbarian. He hailed from the Lago Empire, the frostbound kingdom of the north, and carried the pride of a dying tribe upon his shoulders.
Inti of the Sun, the Superhuman of Flame.
Once the high priestess of Teotl's Great Temple, her scarlet hair and ruby eyes burned with the same brilliance as the sacred fires of Quetzalcoatl, god of light. She was the strongest pyromancer ever recorded — a woman who turned despair into radiance.
Caelan the Swift, the Superhuman of Wind.
A man of blinding beauty, with emerald eyes and hair the color of sunlight. Once a prince of the Aether Empire, he embodied the grace of the sky itself. Though his empire had long fallen, his pride lived on through every storm he summoned.
Reinhardt the Bold, the Superhuman of Battle.
A peasant turned legend. Trained by the previous Superhuman of Battle, he had become a war machine in human form — his fists could shatter fortresses, his body endured cannonfire, and his eyes burned the color of gunpowder. He was the god of the battlefield incarnate.
Helena the Glorious, the Superhuman of Divinity.
With olive skin, midnight hair, and sapphire eyes, she descended from an ancient line of priests who served the divine Triad. Born with overwhelming divine energy, she was called "The Saint of the Millennium." Her miracles inspired mankind to believe in salvation once more.
And finally…
Kul-Kain the Golden, the Superhuman of Ruin.
A man forged in tragedy — the first human to taste the pain of ultimate betrayal. His own family, the noble House Kulainn, had once conspired to awaken the ancient demons of the Prehistoric Era — the Seven Demonic Sins.
His golden eyes, burning with grief and resolve, swore vengeance not against mankind… but against despair itself.
He was the man who vowed to bring back hope to Gaia — even if it meant cutting down gods and devils alike.
---
The war had lasted a millennium.
One by one, the Sins fell — until only Lucifer, the Sin of Pride, remained.
When Lucifer descended from the heavens, his fall burned the skies themselves. His wings of white flame turned black as ash, and his mere presence scorched the land for miles. He was perfection corrupted — divine and monstrous all at once. Even his own demonic brethren trembled in his light.
The six Superhumans faced him beneath the blood-red heavens of Chalchiuhtlicue.
The battle was beyond mortal comprehension. The ground cracked, mountains collapsed, oceans vaporized.
Each hero gave their all — their Aura, their Mana, their lives.
And one by one, they fell.
Godrick's sword shattered.
Inti's flames dimmed.
Caelan's winds died.
Reinhardt's warcry went silent.
Helena's light faded into tears.
Only Kul-Kain remained.
With his body broken and blood running like molten gold, he roared one final defiance.
"Lucifer!
If this is what it means to be divine…
Then I'll destroy divinity itself!"
And with that, the Golden Superhuman unleashed his final technique — his Aura and Ego burning together in perfect unity, igniting the world in blinding light.
His blade cleaved through the Sin of Pride, through the heavens, through the laws of creation itself.
Lucifer fell.
But so did the world.
---
What followed was not triumph, but silence.
The land lay barren. The seas had boiled away. The stars themselves flickered out.
And in that stillness… the heavens opened once more.
"Rejoice, mortal. Your cries have reached the Triad.
We — Quetzalcoatl of Light, Kròno of Time, and Frigg of Wisdom — have come to you, Kul-Kain."
Three divine figures descended from the sky, their radiance illuminating the ruins of Gaia.
But Kul-Kain felt no awe. No peace.
Only despair.
His golden sword trembled in his hand.
His lips parted — not in prayer, but in fury.
"You… You dare come now?
Where were you when the world burned? When my people died?!"
Tears streamed down his face, glowing faintly with ethereal light.
He had fought for them — for their creation, their mortals, their ideals.
And yet, they had done nothing.
For centuries, humanity had been a pawn.
And the gods… had been the players.
The man once called the Golden Hope of Humanity broke.
He raised his sword to the heavens.
"Then watch…
as I burn the concept of gods itself!"
---
The Triad watched in horror as the golden light of his Aura twisted into a deep, chaotic violet.
His soul — his Ego — tore free from the bounds of mortality. It fused with the raw Ethere of the world, spiraling into something ancient and terrible.
Not Divinity. Not Sin. Something beyond both.
The Primordial Chaos.
"You will pay for your neglect!
Your arrogance will be your end!
This… is your KARMA!"
The swing that followed was not of this world.
The blade cut not just flesh, but existence.
The gods screamed as their very concepts were erased — not killed, but unmade.
Light vanished. Time shattered. Wisdom dissolved.
And so too did Kul-Kain.
His body disintegrated into nothing, his consciousness scattered across the void.
But his Ego, the core of his soul, refused to die.
It drifted through the endless black, past time, past space, searching… for something.
And then — "Awaken… bring balance to the past. I command you, as Alpha and Omega."
---
Kul-Kain's eyes flew open.
He gasped for breath — lungs burning, heart pounding. The scent of oil lamps, the creak of wooden beams, he was… home?
The nightmare lingered like smoke in his mind.
That war. That sky. Those gods.
It all felt too real to be a dream.
He sat up, sweat dripping from his brow, and looked at his trembling hands.
No scars. No golden light. Just the calloused palms of a sixteen-year-old boy.
Kul-Kain Kulainn, youngest son of Atlas Kulainn, patriarch of the fallen swordhouse of Lago.
Once, their blades had protected kings.
Now, they were nothing but relics, a noble line mocked as cowards, traitors, and failures.
Kul-Kain had trained since childhood, swinging his blade until his hands bled.
But no matter how hard he tried…
He couldn't awaken even a single Aura Star.
They called him "The Stable's Fool."
"The dullest sword in Lago."
That morning, his routine continued:
training, study, silence.
Nothing unusual.
Until the pain struck.
"Agh— My head…! I— I can't see—!"
Darkness engulfed his vision.
And then, from deep within his mind, a voice echoed:
『 Mission 00: Find Gae Bolg and the Lost Ego. 』
The voice vanished.
Kul-Kain froze, gasping.
Gae Bolg…
He knew that name.
It was the sacred golden blade, the pride of his family — the sword once bestowed upon him during the ceremony of adulthood.
But why would he need to find it? It had been lost for decades…
And that dream — no, that memory — it couldn't be real. Could it?
Kul-Kain clenched his fists, his heart pounding like thunder.
Something had changed.
Something was awakening.
And for the first time, deep within the boy who would one day destroy gods,
the golden flame of Ego flickered once more.
---
— To Be Continued —