The sky was impossibly clear.
No haze.
No clouds.
Only an endless ocean of darkness, brushed with silver light.
Above the colossal world, stars burned brighter than memory itself—scattered like divine embers across the heavens. Each one shimmered with quiet purpose, as if watching, waiting. The moon—vast, luminous, almost alive—hung low in the firmament, its pale glow spilling gently over the planet below, bathing the night in soft radiance.
This was not Earth.
This was a world eight times greater in size.
A world that breathed with ancient magic.
From the silence of space, the planet revealed itself—an enormous sphere of shifting lands and impossible beauty. Vast emerald forests stretched beyond sight. Deserts of glowing sand shimmered faintly even in darkness. Mountain ranges pierced the sky like the teeth of titans, their peaks crowned with eternal frost. Oceans curved around the world like living mirrors, reflecting the light of a sun four times larger than mankind had ever known.
This solar system held eleven planets, each bound by gravity and fate, circling that massive star.
But this world was different.
It was not divided merely by land and sea.
It was divided by eight realms.
Realms layered not by distance,
but by existence itself.
Some overlapped the physical world.
Some existed slightly out of phase.
And some were forbidden even to name.
Tonight, the realms were unusually still.
As if listening.
Far below the starlit sky, within one quiet corner of this immense planet, night wind whispered through towering trees and ancient stone structures. A small settlement slept—peaceful, unaware of the invisible weight of destiny pressing down upon it.
Then—
A sound broke the silence.
A cry.
Sharp.
Fragile.
Human.
Inside a dimly lit chamber, warmed by flickering lantern light and soft murmurs, a newborn took his first breath.
His cry was not loud.
Yet it was clear.
It cut through the fabric of the night, as if announcing his arrival not only to the room…
…but to the world itself.
He was a boy.
Tiny hands clenched instinctively, fingers trembling as though grasping something unseen. His skin glowed faintly beneath the light—untouched by scars, untouched by knowledge—yet carrying a presence that made the air feel heavier.
Outside, beyond mortal sight, something shifted.
In distant realms, ancient beings stirred from meditation.
In places where time flowed differently, eyes slowly opened.
Across the heavens, the stars shimmered—just a heartbeat longer than before.
The boy's cry softened.
Replaced by gentle, steady breathing.
Unaware.
Unaware that he had been born beneath a sky that watched.
Unaware that this world of monsters, magic, and gods had just welcomed someone who would one day shake all eight realms.
And so, beneath a giant moon and a universe beyond imagination—
The story began.
The baby was gently lifted into his father's arms.
The man stood perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement might disturb the fragile miracle he held. He was in his mid-thirties—neither tall nor short, his height unremarkable, yet his presence steady and reassuring.
His dark hair was neatly parted to the side. A well-shaped moustache framed his face, giving him an air of warmth and quiet maturity. His body showed subtle strength—not the build of a warrior, but of someone who had lived, worked, and endured.
Human.
Real.
His dark brown eyes shimmered.
Joy filled them.
Happiness overwhelmed them.
And tears—unashamed—fell freely.
He looked down at his son, at the tiny face learning how to exist, and his hands trembled—not from fear…
…but from love arriving all at once.
Behind him, resting on the bed, lay the child's mother.
Her body was exhausted.
Her breathing uneven.
Pain still lingered from the battle she had just survived.
Yet none of it could dull the quiet light in her eyes.
She turned her head slightly, watching her husband hold their son, and a soft smile curved her lips.
She was in her late twenties.
Her ember-brown eyes carried tenderness and strength. Her straight black hair fell loosely around her shoulders, reaching halfway down her back, still damp with sweat and effort.
She was tired.
She was hurting.
But she was happy.
When her husband met her gaze, no words were needed.
In that silent moment, they understood—
Something precious had entered their lives.
Something worth every sacrifice.
Outside the room, footsteps gathered.
Soft laughter followed.
Whispers of blessings filled the hallway.
Neighbors paused at the doorway. Family members arrived, faces glowing with relief and joy. The news spread not through messengers…
…but through warmth.
Soon, the entire neighborhood knew.
And then—
The scene widened.
The town of ASHURA stirred beneath the giant sky.
Lanterns were lit.
Doors opened.
People poured into the streets.
Voices mixed in celebration.
It was a gathering unlike any other.
Tall and short.
Horned and tailed.
Scaled, furred, and winged.
Some bore marks of ancient bloodlines.
Others looked almost ordinary.
All lived together here.
ASHURA was not born of conquest.
It was created long ago by the Ashuras—a divine species whose power rivaled gods and demons alike. Legends said they shaped this town as a sanctuary, a place beyond domination and hierarchy.
After its creation, they withdrew.
They watched.
They judged.
But they did not rule.
ASHURA became a refuge.
Most who lived here had once known war.
Battlefields soaked in blood.
Victories that felt like losses.
Glory that turned to grief.
Over time, they learned the truth:
War benefited no one.
Beyond ASHURA and a few great cities, the world still burned. Species fought endlessly over land, power, and fading resources. Ancient rivalries fed new hatred. Discrimination shaped borders and bloodlines.
The war had never ended.
It had raged for over eighteen hundred years.
Only here—
Within ASHURA's boundaries—
Did peace exist without conditions.
No gods above others.
No species above another.
No worth decided by origin.
And tonight, in this rare place of harmony—
A child had been born.
As laughter echoed through lantern-lit streets, no one noticed the subtle shift in the air.
No one sensed how the realms leaned closer.
Listening.
The boy slept quietly in his father's arms.
Unaware that he was born not just into a family…
…but into a world divided by endless war.
And somewhere beyond the stars—
Fate took note of his first breath.