One. Small. Action.
A whisper in the dark. A pebble nudged from the edge. That's all it takes for reality to crack. One tiny motion can ignite a ripple strong enough to shake worlds, tear open timelines, and make entire universes recoil like they heard their own future scream. We walk through our lives believing our world is enormous, unshakable, the center of everything. Compared to us, sure — it's vast. But compared to the universe? We're dust. A spark. A fraction of a fraction.
And when you zoom out even further and realize there isn't just one universe, but infinity layered over infinity? You begin to understand how fragile everything truly is. Every choice, every breath, every mistake branches into a new reality. In one universe, you exist as you are. In another, you're a ghost without a voice. In another still, you may be the monster others fear.
This is the Multiverse — immeasurable, unpredictable, and far more delicate than any soul dares to admit. And a single shift, a single misstep, could collapse entire realities.
Before any mortal tribe understood this, before Avangard even knew its own name, there were gods. The beings we now call the Mythicals. There were five of them, and five alone: Kai Xii, Terra Krai, Thunder Voltai, Levi Krakai, and Infernai Solarnai. They were not myth. They were architects. Forces older than galaxies, older than the Multiverse's own memory.
Kai Xii awakened light.
Terra Krai forged stone.
Thunder Voltai summoned lightning into existence.
Levi Krakai shaped water's eternal flow.
Infernai Solarnai breathed fire into the void.
Together, their united power formed the Elements of Nature, the foundation upon which all worlds — including Avangard — would one day stand. And it was Kai Xii's hand that forged their greatest creation: the Lost Key, an object of pure cosmic energy, the seed of creation itself.
But not all divinity stood aligned.
There was one who sought to unmake what they built.
Kakiamis — the Dark God. He desired a universe drowned in eternal night, consumed by corruption and ruin. For this he was banished, his divine title shattered, his name erased, his power stripped. Yet fragments remained. Whispers. Shadows. And even now, legends claim he still curses the Elementanites, poisoning fate, waiting for the moment he can strike with a devastation meant to engulf not just Avangard, but the entire Multiverse.
His threat led to the creation of the Prophecy. On November 11th, 2013, under Kai Xii's guidance, King Vigilzante inscribed the prophecy that would shape destiny. Few knew gods existed; fewer still understood the weight of those words as they burned across the page. Less than a month later, on December 3rd, Vigilzante fell to Dreadixz. After his death, Kai Xii reclaimed the prophecy and swore that when the time came, he would deliver it to the Chosen One — the only hope against Kakiamis' design.
Because Kakiamis' plan isn't meant for one world.
It is a strategy meant to topple the entire Multiverse.
But to understand Avangard's place in this vast conflict, you must go back — to the moment before Avangard existed at all.
Before Avangard, there was Earth.
A wild planet ruled by thunder and tooth. Dinosaurs roamed with unrivaled power, shaking mountains with their roars. But far beyond the sky, drifting through the cosmos, an ancient relic moved toward Earth — a relic older than light itself: the Lost Key.
When it entered the atmosphere, the heavens split apart. Fire rained. Continents cracked. Oceans boiled. In moments, Earth died.
But from extinction came rebirth.
From the blazing crater, the energy of the Lost Key surged outward, rewriting the world's very DNA. Mountains glowed from within. Rivers shimmered with impossible color. The atmosphere itself crackled with elemental force. And from that storm of creation rose the first Dragon, formed of molten rock and celestial dust — Vigilzante.
The Lost Key spoke to him in visions. It taught him balance, destiny, and purpose. Guided by its power, Vigilzante reshaped the broken planet into something new. From twelve primal energies, he forged the Twelve Elemental Tribes:
Light birthed the Celestianites.
Flame birthed the Flamenites.
Water birthed the Oceananites.
Lightning birthed the Electronites.
Sand birthed the Dunenanites.
Ice birthed the Frozenanites.
Rock birthed the Earthnites.
Heart birthed the Blushinites.
Nature birthed the Forestinites.
Sound birthed the Soundanites.
Metal birthed the Mechanites.
Shadow and moonlight birthed the Lunaranites.
As the planet healed, its identity transformed with it.
No longer Earth — but Avangard, a world born from extinction and sculpted by a dragon's hand.
This became the era of Before Celestianites (B.C.), the time before the tribes settled into their destinies.
But even this new world fractured. Not all tribes were cleanly shaped. The Nomanites, born from the Lost Key yet without an Element, became anomalies — some beasts, some gifted, some mysteries wrapped in skin. Then came the Waspinites, born by accident when honey touched the Key three thousand years later.
Difference bred conflict.
Conflict bred war.
Peace only came when King Vigilzante unified the tribes — all except one.
The Lunaranites, sculpted by the Key's harshest power, rejected peace. And from their defiance rose Dreadixz, the warlord whose name could silence a battlefield.
Thus began the greatest struggle Avangard has ever known:
The Celestianite–Lunaranite War.
A conflict so devastating the world itself seems to hold its breath.
But if the prophecy is true…
If the Chosen Ones rise…
If the Mythicals return…
Then perhaps the Multiverse has one final chance before Kakiamis' shadow falls across every reality.
Because this war — this prophecy — this entire saga…
was never just about Avangard.
It was the opening move in a game played across infinity.