The year was 4441.
The world no longer breathed the way it once did. The sky — if one could still call it that — was a rotting canvas of gray and sickly gold, as if the heavens had been bruised. What sunlight remained did not pour or warm; it lingered like an afterthought, casting a pale glow that blurred the lines between day and night. Morning bled into dusk, and dusk, into an eternal twilight. The ground cracked beneath every step, its surface a mixture of burnt earth, poisoned grass, and shattered bone. Mountains stood still like petrified gods, watching silently as the world they once guarded spiraled deeper into damnation.
Once, Earth had been alone. Now, it shared its orbit with a celestial invader — a fractured asteroid, long embedded into the planet like a parasite feeding off a decaying host. From this cosmic collision, Nine Realms were born — each a kingdom of horror, each ruled by a demonic warlord, and all bowing to a name whispered even by nightmares: Raashkaa.
But tonight, the story does not begin with him.
Tonight, five souls — broken, hardened, and unaware of their place in prophecy — camped beneath a dying sky. A fire cracked in the distance, its flames small and jittering as if afraid to exist in the dead wind. Around it sat five figures, draped in shadows and silence. Their mission? Simple: track down and kill the rebels who dared to oppose the demon overlords. But none of them spoke of justice. They spoke of survival. Of coin. Of obedience.
Zayn leaned back against a jagged stone, arms behind his head, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. He was the charmer of the group, dark-haired, sharp-eyed, always flirting with danger and women alike. His laughter was casual, but his mind was sharp — too sharp for the games he played.
"You know," he said lazily, tossing a twig into the fire, "I think the demons are getting lazy. First they wreck the world, and now they can't even kill their own rebels."
Across from him, Lilu — the wide-eyed girl with too much sweetness for this world — giggled softly. Her voice was light, the kind that made you forget how dark things had become. "Maybe they're just bored. Like us. Killing isn't exciting anymore when it's all we do."
She curled her knees to her chest, glowing faintly in the firelight. Her innocence hadn't been erased — just buried beneath layers of obedience and fear.
Kael, the brute, grunted without humor. He stood apart from the fire, massive arms crossed, his skin scarred and callused. He didn't laugh much, and he sure as hell didn't trust easily. He only spoke when it mattered. "Keep laughing," he growled. "Next rebel you underestimate might take your pretty little tongue."
Zayn grinned wider. "That's assuming they don't run screaming at your face first."
Sitting quietly beside Lilu was Nyra — mysterious, silent, her black eyes watching the fire as though reading a book only she could see. She hadn't spoken since they set camp. Her long, obsidian hair danced in the wind like smoke. She wore her silence like armor.
She didn't laugh. She didn't smirk. But she saw everything.
The last of them — Riven — sat hunched beside a blackened stone, tinkering with a strange metal device. His eyes glowed faintly blue in the darkness, evidence of his origin. Not from this realm. Not even from this Earth. Riven was not like the others. His world had fallen before Earth did — now he lived only to prevent it from happening again.
"Coordinates shifting," he murmured, more to himself than anyone. "Olcur is… unstable. Something's happening underground."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "You're always mumbling about the ground. You sure you're not part mole?"
Riven didn't look up. "If I was, I'd be buried underground. Peaceful. Unlike now."
Lilu shifted closer to Nyra, as if seeking comfort from the one who never gave it. "Do you think we'll ever… stop doing this?" she asked softly. "Chasing rebels. Killing. Obeying."
Nyra's voice finally came — low, slow, like a blade dragged across glass. "When we stop breathing."
A long silence followed.
The wind whistled through the trees — twisted, half-dead things that creaked as though mourning their own branches. A low howl came from the distant hills. Not a wolf. Not human.
Something else.
Kael's hand moved to the hilt of his blade. Riven's fingers stilled. Even Zayn's smirk faded.
"It's getting closer," Riven said, eyes narrowing. "Too rhythmic. Not wild. Footsteps." Zayn stood slowly, eyes scanning the darkness.
"We're not supposed to be tracked. We're the hunters." Kael spat into the fire. "Then maybe the prey learned to bite."
They formed a loose circle, eyes facing outward, ears straining. But the footsteps faded. The wind swallowed them whole. Still, something had changed.
Nyra's eyes flashed in the firelight. "This place… Olcur… it remembers things. Old things. Things we've forgotten."
"Like what?" Lilu whispered. Nyra didn't answer.
Instead, she looked to the horizon — to the jagged silhouette of mountains torn by the impact of the ninth realm's arrival. The stars above blinked like dying candles, and the fire between them hissed against the ash carried by the wind.
The world was holding its breath. And something — deep beneath them — had just opened its eyes.