In the beginning, before time flowed and souls walked the earth, a kingdom rose in the heavens. This world, shaped by forgotten divine forces, had a single purpose : to welcome wandering souls and grant them judgment.

The angels, guardians of this fragile balance, scrutinized the essence of each soul, delving into its memories and sins. They were the last witnesses of past lives, the silent judges who decided whether a soul should be reborn or condemned to oblivion. Some souls, too corrupted or broken, were deemed irredeemable and cast into the abyss of oblivion—a place where their existence was erased for eternity, left in the hands of demons.

In the depths, far from the heavens, demons waited, eager to destroy and torment. Hunters of suffering, they coveted the fallen souls—those who had lost their radiance. Torn from reincarnation, these captured souls became mere playthings of agony, subjected to the whims of the creatures of the abyss.

Thus, an endless cycle took shape: a silent struggle between angels and demons, between redemption and damnation, between hope and despair. But the beings of the flames, weary of receiving only the souls cast down by the angels, decided to rise to the land of the heavens. There, they defied the borders imposed by the divine realm.
And when the balance was broken... war began.

There was a time when the heavens burned under the brilliance of divine blades, when shadows recoiled before the might of the Seraphim. A time when light still reigned.

At the dawn of ages, the world of angels stood as a bastion against the darkness. The Seraphim, sovereigns of the heavens, watched over the cycle of souls, wielding their swords of light, forged in eternal fire. Each strike of these sacred blades dispelled shadow and purified evil. Under their command, legions of angels carried out the divine will, guiding souls toward their rightful fate.

But in the heart of the abyss, where light dared not venture, the Demon Lords plotted. Born of chaos, thirsting for dominion, they forged their own weapons—blades of shadow and blood, imbued with the torment of fallen souls. These black swords, tempered in malevolent blood, shimmered with a dark glow, pulsating with the energy of despair and darkness. Sharpened by hatred and suffering, they thirsted for angelic blood.

Then, with a roar that shook the universe, the abyss opened, and the invasion began. The heavens ignited. Blades of light clashed against swords of blood in a titanic battle. Each strike illuminated the horizon like a dying sun, each cry echoed through eternity. But the war was long. Too long. The Seraphim, despite their power, began to falter beneath the demonic tide.

One by one, the great commanders of the celestial armies fell, their lights fading in a final golden burst. The angels, deprived of their leaders, wavered and were overwhelmed. Realizing all was lost, the last survivors abandoned the battlefield, scattering across the world. Now hunted, they hid their wings and erased their names, becoming mere shadows of a once-glorious past.

The demons, victorious, seized the earth and the fate of souls. The time of redemption was over: every wandering essence was now captured, corrupted, and devoured. Fed by fear and suffering, the Demon Lords imposed their rule, transforming the world into a sanctuary of darkness.

Thus ended the Age of the Seraphim. Thus began the reign of shadows. But within the darkness, a single drop of light remained, and an ancient prophecy endured—unknown to demons yet offering hope to angels.

"In light, darkness finds its breath, and in darkness, light awaits its time. When all seems lost, the last spark of clarity shall be reborn, restoring the balance the world has forgotten."