Chapter 0: The Echo of Dragons

In an age long before the skies were scarred by wings of fire and shadow, the world knew only chaos. Wars raged without end, born from greed, fear, and the endless cycle of vengeance. 

Humanity clawed at survival, blind to the quiet power sleeping within every soul. Then came the awakening.

It began with a single cry. A warrior, broken by the slaughter of his kin, felt something stir deep inside. Not magic drawn from crystals or gods, but something primal, 

Ancient, as if the essence of dragons long vanished had chosen to linger in human hearts. They called it the Dragon Spirit. No true dragons walked the earth anymore. The name was a whisper of what could be, a symbol of untamed potential.

The Dragon Spirit awakens in four parts, each tied to the core of what makes us human.

First come the legs of the dragon: raw, overwhelming emotion. Grief that shatters the mind, rage that burns away reason, love twisted into desperation. Only when emotion surges to the breaking point does the Spirit stir. 

A mother watching her child die. A brother betrayed by his closest ally. A lover torn apart by fate. These are the catalysts. Without the legs, there is no foundation.

Then rise the wings of the dragon: the unyielding will. Desire for revenge, a burning need for justice, or an unbreakable vow to protect what remains. Will fuels the ascent. It turns emotion from a scream into direction. Without wings, the Spirit remains grounded, a fleeting spark that fades.

When legs and wings align in perfect, violent harmony, the roar of the dragon manifests. This is the weapon. It takes form unique to the awakener: 

a blade of pure flame, a spear that pierces souls, a gauntlet that crushes mountains. The roar is power made tangible, rare and terrifying. Few survive the awakening intact. Fewer still master it.

But true mastery lies in the breath of the dragon: control. Absolute dominion over the self. To breathe is to command the storm within, to temper emotion with will, to shape the roar without losing oneself. 

Only those who achieve this unlock the final ascension. The Ascended Dragon. New armor forged from the Spirit itself, power amplified beyond mortal limits, dominance that bends reality. In this form, one becomes a force of nature, capable of ending armies or reshaping destinies.

For centuries, the Dragon Spirit remained scattered, a gift and curse claimed by lone warriors. Then came the Eternal Order.

Twelve commanders rose, each having conquered the breath of the dragon. They formed the Order to end the chaos once and for all. Twelve squads, each stationed across the vast continents, from the frozen northern wastes to the sun-scorched southern deserts. 

Their mission was simple yet absolute: maintain peace. Enforce it. Any spark of war, rebellion, or disruption was extinguished swiftly. The commanders, in their Ascended forms, became living symbols of control. 

Their presence alone quelled uprisings. Their breath silenced battlefields. The world called it peace. The Order called it necessity.

Yet peace, like a blade, cuts both ways.

In the shadowed voids beyond the Order's reach, another faction emerged. They named themselves the Abyss. They too dreamed of peace. But their vision was purer, colder, final. 

True peace, they declared, could only exist when nothing remained to threaten it. No greed, no anger, no will to fight. No life at all that could disturb the silence. 

They would purge the world of every creature capable of emotion, of will, of roar. Only then would eternal quiet reign. Only then would peace be absolute.

The Abyss did not awaken the Dragon Spirit in the same way. Their path twisted the legs and wings into something darker, their roars weapons of erasure, their breath a void that consumed light. 

They saw the Eternal Order not as saviors, but as hypocrites clinging to control while pretending at harmony. The Order saw the Abyss as monsters who would burn everything for an empty dream.

Two forces, born from the same Spirit, chasing the same ideal. One through dominance and order. The other through annihilation.

The world balanced on the edge of their clash.

Whispers spread of a coming storm. A new awakener, perhaps, whose Spirit would tip the scales. Or a commander who would question the cost of their peace. Or an Abyss apostle who would finally ignite the end.

The dragons within humanity had awakened.

Now they would decide what peace truly meant.

End of Chapter 0.