There was no warning.
One moment, the world was as it had always been.
The next, a series of strange events began to unfold.
It started in Africa.
At the very centre of the continent, a tower of ivory-white stone suddenly appeared, its towering structure reaching into the heavens.
It had not been built. There had been no tremors, no explosions, nor any indication that something of its magnitude was about to appear.
It simply materialised.
And then, the entire continent vanished.
In its place lay an endless sea of black, ink-like liquid, beneath a raging thunderstorm that seemed destined to never end. Black lightning tore through the heavens, illuminating the unnatural waters below, while torrential rain descended upon a landscape that no longer existed.
The ivory tower stood at the centre of it all, unmoved by the raging storm.
Before humanity could even begin to comprehend the catastrophe, similar events began occurring across the other continents.
Obsidian towers emerged from the earth, each one appearing at the centre of its respective continent. Alongside them came inexplicable transformations of the surrounding terrain, as though the world itself were being reshaped by an unseen hand.
Forests appeared where cities once stood. Mountains rose from plains. Entire regions became unrecognisable.
Reality, as humanity understood it, had begun to unravel.
Yet, the most astonishing revelation came from the southernmost point of the planet.
Antarctica.
For centuries, the continent had remained a frozen wasteland, its secrets buried beneath layers of ice. Then, without warning, the ice wall submerged.
What lay beneath was not an empty expanse of frozen earth.
It was a civilisation.
An ancient civilisation of superhumans possessing technology far beyond anything humanity had ever conceived. Towering cities stretched across the newly revealed landscape, while magnificent structures and machines of incomprehensible design filled the skies.
They had existed long before humanity discovered their presence.
And now, they had finally emerged.
The world would come to know them as—
The Empire of Ichor.
They who usurped the entire world.
But that was a story for another time.
For now, humanity had another mystery to contend with.
The stars.
Seven stars began to shine across the heavens, each radiating a different hue. Their brilliance was unlike anything ever observed, and their positions seemed to defy every known astronomical principle.
Each star hovered directly above one of the newly emerged towers.
Yet, two stars stood apart from the rest.
Above the ivory tower, a star of pure white illuminated the heavens. Its radiance was absolute, untainted by even the faintest trace of another colour.
Above the obsidian tower in Antarctica, a star of pure black hung in the sky.
It did not merely lack light.
It seemed to swallow it.
Where the white star illuminated the heavens, the black star left an unsettling emptiness in its wake, a void against which even the surrounding darkness appeared pale.
White and black.
Ivory and obsidian.
Two stars that stood in stark opposition to one another, separated by the world yet bound by an unknown connection.
Seven stars.
Seven towers.
And a world that would never be the same again.
Humanity scrambled to understand what was happening. Governments mobilised their militaries, scientists searched desperately for explanations, and religious institutions proclaimed the arrival of a new age.
Some believed the towers were divine gifts.
Others considered them harbingers of the apocalypse.
Nobody knew for certain.
The towers remained silent, and the stars offered no answers.
Yet, as humanity struggled to make sense of the new world, something else began to stir.
From the shadows of civilisation, a strange cult emerged.
Its members appeared in places where they had never been seen before, gathering in abandoned buildings, forgotten ruins, and secluded corners of cities. Their origins were unknown, their motives obscure, and their beliefs incomprehensible to outsiders.
They called themselves witches.
Or, at least, that was what the few people who encountered them claimed.
Whispers spread of strange rituals, forbidden knowledge, and figures who seemed to know things they could not possibly have learned. Some claimed the cult had existed for centuries, hiding in plain sight. Others insisted it had only appeared after the towers descended upon the world.
No one could prove either theory.
The authorities struggled to identify its members, and those who attempted to investigate the cult often found themselves confronted with more questions than answers.
But one thing was certain.
The world had changed, and humanity was not the only thing adapting to it.
Time passed, and the world gradually adjusted to its new reality. Humanity had survived countless catastrophes throughout its history, and despite the unprecedented nature of these events, life continued.
Until, on a seemingly ordinary day, something peculiar happened.
A Black Dove flew out of the ivory tower.
At the same time, a White Raven emerged from the obsidian tower in Antarctica.
---
Under the relentless downpour, a man sat in a cardboard box on the streets of a nameless city.
His clothes were worn, his body was thin, and his hair was an unkempt mess. Water seeped through the cardboard beneath him, but he appeared entirely indifferent to the discomfort.
People passed him without a second glance.
Some pitied him. Others ignored him.
None of them mattered.
The man stared blankly at the rain, his lifeless eyes reflecting a world he no longer seemed interested in.
Then, a Black Dove descended before him.
The bird tilted its head, gazing into his empty eyes.
Thousands of miles away, a White Raven perched upon the balcony of a skyscraper.
Before it stood a man who lived in luxury, surrounded by everything money could buy. From his elevated position, the sprawling city stretched beneath him, its buildings glittering through the rain.
Unlike the man in the cardboard box, he wanted for nothing.
Yet, as he gazed at the White Raven, his expression suggested that the world had long since ceased to interest him.
And then, in perfect unison, the two birds spoke directly into the minds of their respective counterparts.
"Hey, do you fancy destroying the world?"
"Greetings, I beseech thee to save this dying world."
The two men regarded their respective birds for a moment.
Then, in perfect unison, they replied.
"I'd rather not."