Before gods learned to speak,
before angels grew their first wings,
before the concept of "good" or "evil" was ever born…
there was the Core.
A silent, sleeping mass of living darkness, drifting in a sea of nothing.
From it came the first pulses of existence — echoes that would one day form realms, powers, and the beings who believed they ruled them.
But the Core was not a god.
It was older
…more ancient
…more absolute
…more dangerous.
It was the Primordial Demon, the heart of all nightmares yet to come.
And from its shadows came Hell.
---
THE BIRTH OF REALMS
As the Core shuddered in its sleep, reality tore open like a wound.
Light poured from the cracks, forming the first gods — beings who sought to control the growing cosmos.
Heaven was born from that stolen light.
Hell was born from what remained.
The two realms never agreed on their origins.
Heaven believed itself chosen.
Hell knew itself inevitable.
For every star Heaven lit, Hell cast a shadow.
For every god who rose, a demon awakened.
And deep within the churning darkness, the Primordial Core continued to dream.
---
THE FIRST WAR
The gods feared what they could not understand.
They feared the Core most of all.
So they descended into Hell, seeking to destroy it.
Instead, they broke the realm.
Their divine arrogance fractured Hell into Nine Depths, each one more twisted and unforgiving than the last:
The Shattered Gate
The Bone Desert
The Maw of Silence
The Ash Sea
The Crimson Dominion
The Labyrinth of Regret
The Abyssal Forge
The Inverted Citadel
And the buried Primordial Core
Hell bled for the first time.
Hades, youngest of the first gods, stepped into the chaos.
He alone did not fear Hell.
Instead… Hell bowed to him.
The realm accepted him as its ruler — not as a conqueror, but as a caretaker who could contain the primordial nightmares beneath.
Hades became Lord of the Underworld, and his crown was forged from the bones of fallen gods.
---
THE PROPHECY OF THE BLADE
Yet even as Hades brought order to Hell, a strange phenomenon occurred in the Mortal Realms.
A tear in reality opened.
A fragment of the Primordial Core's essence slipped out — mixed with divine light, mortal soulstuff, and something that should never have existed.
From this impossible collision, a being emerged.
A child.
A weapon.
A paradox.
A boy who was not mortal.
Not divine.
Not demonic.
Not bound by any cosmic law.
The realms called him many names:
The Blade of Nothing.
The God Killer.
The Cosmic Error.
But he would come to be known simply as—
Delta.
As the boy grew, realms trembled.
He walked between dimensions effortlessly, destroying threats that even gods feared.
He learned from the finest warriors.
He surpassed them.
The Eternal Blade Lyrieth.
The Holy Knight Ray.
The armies of Heaven and the warlords of Hell.
None could eclipse him.
And yet the prophecy whispered:
> "When the Blade of Nothing walks the Depths,
the Core shall stir,
and all creation shall answer."
---
THE NIGHT GODDESS WATCHES
There was one who understood the truth.
In the outer void, beyond gods and demons, dwelled Noctis, Goddess of Eternal Night.
She watched Delta from the moment he first opened his eyes.
She saw the power within him — the shard of the sleeping Core, the seed of a destiny that could reshape the universe.
She alone could cradle him without fear.
She alone could step between him and fate.
Whenever Delta bled, she rescued him.
Whenever he sought solitude, she reached for him.
Whenever he walked too close to the Depths…
…she appeared.
But even she could not stop what was coming.
---
THE GUARDIAN OF HELL
When the tremors reached Hades, he knew what they meant:
Delta was descending.
Into Hell.
Into his domain.
Into the one place that could drain even his impossible power.
Hades did not rise from his throne.
He merely spoke one command, his voice rolling like thunder through all nine Depths:
> "Open the gates.
The Guardian returns."
Because despite all the fear, doubt, and prophecy…
Hades trusted Delta.
He made him more than a weapon.
More than an anomaly.
He made him his Right Hand —
the only being allowed to walk Hell without bowing.
But deep within the Ninth Depth…
within the Primordial Core…
a sleeping eye began to open.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Something connected to Delta's very existence.
Noctis looked into the darkness, her hair drifting like cosmic smoke.
Her voice echoed across eternity in a whisper only Delta could feel:
> "Do not go deeper, my sweet Delta…
or the truth will devour you."
But Delta, stubborn as always, walked forward.
Into the Depths.
Into destiny.
Into the awakening of the Primordial Core.