The late afternoon sun dipped low behind the city's skyline, casting long shadows over the quiet industrial district where Lucas Renn worked. The scent of exhaust mingled with the faint saltiness from the nearby harbor, and the distant hum of cargo cranes set a steady rhythm to his mundane day. To anyone passing by, Lucas appeared to be just another courier, his eyes flicking between his phone and the delivery manifest as he wheeled a battered dolly through narrow alleys and warehouses.
His job was simple: pick up parcels, verify labels, deliver to assigned addresses. Nothing extraordinary. But today, a strange request came in through the company's dispatch app, one that had Lucas raising a brow. A client had requested an old shipping container, apparently forgotten and locked tight for years, to be delivered from Dock 13 to a private warehouse on the city's edge. The container's manifest showed no content details, just an unmarked entry and a signature from a mysterious "Mr. Caldwell."
Curiosity niggled at him. He wasn't supposed to pry into clients' business, but the secrecy gnawed at his mind. Why ship a container with no declared contents and a name nobody at the dispatch office recognized? Was it a mistake? A prank? Still, orders were orders. Lucas checked the container's seals, all intact, and loaded it onto the back of his delivery truck, its dull metal walls almost humming faintly in the dimming light.
Driving through the city streets, the truck felt heavier than usual, the engine straining slightly under the unknown weight. Lucas's thoughts drifted to his life — the odd sensation that this world felt too familiar, yet strangely off. The quiet pulse of the Shattering had begun rippling through the air, though no one on the streets seemed aware. He thought about his last life — how it ended suddenly and painfully — and how, against all odds, he'd found himself here. If this was a second chance, he told himself, he'd better make it count.
Arriving at the warehouse district, Lucas parked near a nondescript building surrounded by faded brick and graffiti. A tall, sharply dressed man with silver hair waited by the entrance, eyes glinting under the warehouse's flickering lights. "You must be Lucas," the man said smoothly, extending a gloved hand. "Mr. Caldwell." The name sent a chill down Lucas's spine.
The container was wheeled inside on a forklift, the heavy metal echoing through the cavernous space. Caldwell led Lucas to a dimly lit office cluttered with ancient tomes and odd artifacts — relics that looked far older than the modern world outside. "You're not here by chance," Caldwell said, voice low and serious. "That container holds a fragment of the Supreme Domain, the last echo of divine power before the Shattering."
Lucas laughed nervously, assuming it was some elaborate joke. But as Caldwell opened the container, a radiant shard of iridescent light hovered inside — humming softly, pulsating with energy that seemed to touch the very core of Lucas's being. His heart hammered; something ancient and unknowable called to him.
Suddenly, the shard pulsed brighter, and Lucas felt himself pulled forward, his vision blurring as an invisible force dragged him away from the warehouse, beyond the city, beyond the fabric of reality itself.
When his eyes snapped open, Lucas found himself standing on the shore of a vast ocean beneath a sky swirling with violet and gold. Towering forests stretched to the horizon, deserts shimmered like heatwaves in the distance, and the salty breeze carried the scent of fresh earth. This was his Divine Domain — his own piece of the cosmos, born from the fragment he had unwittingly claimed.
The laws here felt different. Time itself stretched; he knew one day here equaled a year in this realm. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, mingled with awe and fear. As he took his first step onto the sandy shore, the voice of the Domain Interface echoed softly in his mind: "Welcome, Demigod. Your journey begins now."
Lucas clenched his fists, determination blazing in his eyes. This world — no, both worlds — were about to change forever.