In the chaotic era before time was measured, the gods roamed freely across the world, their power unchallenged, their rule absolute. Yet power breeds pride and infinity pride, discord.
As envy and ambition festered among them, a great war erupted one so catastrophic it tore through the heavens and scorched the earth. Mountains crumbled. Oceans boiled. Civilizations vanished. The gods, once eternal, fell one by one until only fragments of their divine essence remained, scattered across the broken world.
It was said that whoever could find and merge with a god's essence would inherit a spark of divinity and perhaps, godhood itself.
Generations passed. From the ashes of the old world rose the 'Bloodline', the faithful descendants of the god's chosen. In time, ancient scrolls resurfaced fragments of prophecy from the dawn of the Holy Era. They told of 'seven bloodlines' , each crafted from a god's own veins, destined to shape the fate of the world.
Only those born of these divine bloodlines could ascend the
Throne of the Gods.
Each god had once founded a civilization, breathing life and law into it. And in each, they left behind a legacy not of temples or treasures, but of 'Blood'. Sacred, powerful and eternal. The blood that bound empires and awakened destinies.
*********
(NE = New Era)
Year: 1977 NE
Date: 26/07
Place: Castle of the Frozenlight
The boy with bluish-white hair sat on the Ice Throne, glorious and radiant with crystalline clarity. Calling him a "boy" might seem disrespectful " Youngman" would be more fitting.
The castle around him was dark and cold, formed from countless layers of enchanted ice. Yet, what made this frozen realm even more chilling was the oozing red blood flowing from the man's pierced heart.
"Why?"
Despite his youthful appearance, his voice was deep and composed.
The young-looking man directed the question at the shadows lurking at the edge of the world dark figures standing silently beyond the great door.
They responded in a cryptic, echoing voice.
"Why?"
"Because 'He' does not want this world to exist."
"An ancient prophecy speaks of a being who should never have been born."
"The other gods have decided to erase this dimension and all life within it."
Their words halted as the thorns of Ice began freezing the very essence of their being. One of them rasped.
Though the language is unfamiliar, I can understand them as if the meaning is being etched directly into my mind .
"Your world harbors strange elements..."
"You won't live long, god of this world. Soon, it too shall perish."
Awkk... Ughh...
The frozen curse overtook the creature, trapping it in eternal slumber.
The young-looking man was none other than the 'God of Preservation', the 'Lord of Stillness and Ice' North Frozenlight.
Though he looked barely older than a teenager, North had lived for over 300 years. The divine nature of ice had preserved him, halting his aging at the brink of late adolescence.
He slowly extended his hand and touched his wounded chest, where divine blood was still oozing. With a whisper of will, he froze it instantly using his authority.
A dim shaft of light filtered through a crack in the icy ceiling, briefly illuminating his pale face and hair, revealing an expression untouched by the life, blank and unreadable.
He stood up with some effort and walked toward the door.
Creak...
With a groaning sound, the massive doors parted, letting in a pale, blurry light. The world beyond came into view.
The ground was littered with 'shadow corpses', blackened blood soaking into the snow.
North didn't look back.
From the horizon, he could see the 'six gods' still locked in battle with the endless wave of invaders.
He reached for his weapon and prepared to leap into the fray.
But then, a mocking voice cut through the air:
"Hey, North! Wake up!"
"Mom's calling us for breakfast. "
You aren't a kid now but a dang god , well more like a newborn one ,so act like one!"
The vision blurred.
He blinked and sat up, still in dazed.
"Another nightmare..."