📜 Chronicles of the Time When the Universe Had Owners
Fragments recovered from broken tablets,
forbidden by divine decree.
Author unknown.
Before mana existed.
Before the sky had gods.
Before even the word world had meaning…
the universe had owners.
They were not kings.
They were not deities.
They were something older than any hierarchy.
The Great Primordial Beasts walked among the stars like animals crossing a valley.
A phoenix could be reborn and, in doing so, incinerate entire constellations.
Dragons tore dimensions apart with the beating of their wings.
The Kunpeng crossed the void as if the cosmos were an infinite ocean.
The White Tiger hunted across planes that no longer exist.
The Dragon Turtle carried continents upon its shell.
To any future civilization, they would have been gods.
But even those beasts…
were not at the top.
👁️ The Deviants
Above every race, every beast, and all logic, there existed the Deviants.
They could not be called creatures.
Nor gods.
They were nature made conscious of itself.
The universe did not contain them:
it belonged to them.
The laws that now govern reality did not restrain them.
They were the origin of those laws…
and could ignore them.
They adopted incomprehensible forms:
beasts fused with concepts,
will merged with chaos,
existences the mortal mind could not endure without breaking.
They were divided into nine ranks.
The lower ranks were numerous…
and even so, annihilating one required unimaginable sacrifices.
The higher ranks were few…
and so close to omnipotence that even the word death became imprecise.
Among them existed an unwritten law:
"Anyone below Rank Six is garbage."
It was not contempt.
It was fact.
Upon reaching Rank Six, a Deviant ceased to be truly mortal.
Its body could fall, but its consciousness would return to the Realm Between Life and Death, awaiting resurrection.
Eras.
Ages impossible to measure.
And yet…
even among them, there existed a myth.
👑 The Forbidden Peak
Rank Ten.
It was not power.
It was absolute transcendence.
No one had reached it.
No one knew if it was real.
Until two Rank Nine Deviants decided to try.
🔥 The Two Titans
The Nine-Headed Phoenix Deviant descended like a living sun.
Three blazing tails.
Nine wills burning within a single body.
Capable of temporarily elevating other Deviants… forcibly raising them to Rank Five.
The Seven-Winged Dragon Deviant was pure destruction.
Each wing sliced through dimensions.
Each roar collapsed stellar systems.
Both desired the same thing:
to be the first to set foot upon the peak no one had ever reached.
And thus, the war began.
It was not a war of worlds.
It was a war that erased maps of the universe.
🩸 The Betrayal
The Phoenix Deviant held the advantage at the beginning.
It empowered lower-ranked Deviants.
Among them, one stood out:
the Deviant in the form of a Golden Bird.
A nearly extinct species.
Predators of dragons.
Rank One… yet born to kill impossible enemies.
That individual broke its natural limit.
Ascended by its own merit to Rank Three.
And the Phoenix artificially elevated it to Rank Five.
It became a legend.
But it was only a vessel.
A third observer was waiting.
An incomplete Deviant.
Rank Nine… but wounded.
With the form of a black octopus covered in eyes.
Its ability was not domination.
It was habitation.
It possessed the Golden Bird Deviant.
From within, it wounded the Phoenix-Form Deviant.
Then it attacked the Dragon-Form Deviant.
The Dragon Deviant survived.
And, in its final fury, destroyed the body of the Golden Bird.
The anchor was lost.
But the Octopus-like Deviant did not stop.
☠️ The End of Everything
It took the body of the Phoenix Deviant.
It brushed against the absolute limit of Rank Nine.
What followed was not war.
It was mutual annihilation.
The Deviants destroyed one another.
Without immediate resurrection.
Without order.
Without victors.
The energy released warped the laws of the universe.
And the final stage was a nameless world.
A world that was never meant to exist.
A battlefield…
turned cradle.
🌍 The Echo of the Titans
The bodies of the Nine-Headed Phoenix Deviant
and the Seven-Winged Dragon Deviant
slowly fell upon that world.
They did not destroy it.
Reality feared touching them.
With the passage of time, their remains fused with the land, forming two continents:
the Sacred Continent
and the Demonic Continent.
They were not special for their size.
They were special for what they emanated:
mana.
An overwhelming amount.
There, geniuses were born.
Natural monsters.
Races that should never have existed.
Though the Deviants had fallen,
their shadow continued to twist destiny.
🧬 The Primordial Blood
In that world, a weak race emerged.
Primitive.
Condemned to disappear.
Until they found a hidden pool.
Two drops.
One of blood from the Phoenix Deviant.
One of blood from the Dragon Deviant.
For most, touching it meant annihilation.
They did not retreat.
They used the blood to temper their bodies.
To fail was to die.
To survive was to be reborn.
Thus, the Titans were born.
They ruled through pure strength.
Their mana was trash.
But their bodies were nearly indestructible.
Until the gods were born…
and faith entered the stage.