Chapter 0: Whispers of Darkness

A woman’s voice—gentle yet commanding—echoes as if across time itself.

"Long ago… six brave heroes rose from distant lands. They raised their swords and channeled their magic, protecting humankind—protecting every race that had once been oppressed. Together, they forged a sacred alliance to stand against the darkness that sought to swallow all."

Her voice carries sorrow, yet also pride, as visions of fire and steel flicker across the mind.

*"Amid seas of fire and rivers of blood, the six heroes stood tall. Their blades of light and sacred incantations split apart the waves of shadow.

Yet their victory was not theirs alone. Behind the curtain stood a mysterious figure—the right hand of the gods, known only as Lord Arbiter. He guided them, ensuring the light would never falter. With a single calm gesture, the armies of demons were reduced to ash."*

The tone deepens, as though recalling a forgotten wound.

"Through their valor, the Demon King was finally slain. The world rejoiced, believing peace had at last returned."

But her voice falters, a shadow lacing each word.

"Not all gods wished for mankind’s freedom. There was one god—and his wife, a goddess—who believed mortals were far too weak to live without control. They sought to usurp divine will… and rule humanity with an iron hand."

Her whisper lowers into a trembling chant.

"Their whispers bore calamity.
From their hands came forth the Dark Shadow—monstrous beings that devoured the restless, incomplete souls of men.
And from their wrath was born the Dark Clouds—a cursed rain that gave birth to even more monsters with every drop that struck the earth."

Visions dance in the mist of her words:

Black rain poured over cities. Humans screamed as beasts rose from their graves. The Dark Shadow feasted upon souls mercilessly.

Her voice hardens.

"The traitorous gods had broken the laws of heaven. Thus, they were cast down from their thrones. But their corruption had already tainted the earth… and so began the Great War."

The echoes of war thunder in her narration:

*"A cataclysmic battle erupted. The six heroes, guided by Lord Arbiter, clashed against legions of Dark Shadow and the storms of Dark Clouds. The sky split apart with lightning and sorcery.

At last, the fallen gods were banished. The world seemed saved.
Yet, amidst the cheers of victory… Lord Arbiter vanished. Without a trace, without a word."*

A pause. Silence hangs, then she continues in a sorrowful tone:

*"His silhouette dissolved into the mist, leaving the heroes to call his name in despair.

Without their guide, unity crumbled. Ambition spread like a plague. Greed, betrayal, and the hunger for power turned the blood of heroes against one another. Civil war engulfed the realm, and once more the world sank into chaos."*

Then, softly, her words shift—like the faint glow of dawn.

*"And yet… a glimmer of hope descended from the heavens.

A prophecy, whispered by the last voices of the gods—of one who would descend from the sky.
One who would reunite the heroes… before an even greater darkness was reborn."*

The scene sharpens. In an ancient library, dust swirls beneath candlelight.

A woman with blazing crimson hair and sapphire-blue eyes closes a heavy tome with trembling fingers. She gazes at the ceiling, as if speaking to the gods themselves.

Her lips part, and her whisper carries like the final thread of fate:

"If the prophecy is true… then the time will soon arrive."