The world we see, and the history we know, are incomplete.
Everything we believe about the past comes from sources—books, teachers, elders, scientific research, and exploration. These sources tell us what happened, or at least what survived. But what if there was a part of history that left no evidence at all? An event that truly happened, yet erased every trace of itself.
What would we call it?
Imagination?A myth?
Without proof, everything becomes a myth.
And yet… there exists a myth about our own history.
A forgotten era—an era the Earth once faced but no longer remembers. An era with no ruins, no records, no witnesses. An era of chaos. An era where everyone fought for their lives. An era where the laws of nature broke, and the world itself screamed.
An era so terrible that even the gods were forced to erase it completely.
That era was much like our own, with only one difference.
People had discovered a way to call forth their inner energy—to give it form and life. That energy manifested as a creature, shaped by a person's soul, personality, and deepest instincts. These creatures were called Morphs, and those who commanded them were known as Binders.
That age came to be known as the Era of Binders.
In that era, six great kingdoms existed, living in fragile peace. But greed has always been humanity's oldest flaw. One day, two kingdoms formed an alliance and attacked the others, driven by hunger for power and the desire to rule the entire world.
Thus, the Great War began.
It did not end.
The longer it lasted, the worse it became. Cities burned. The land was stained with blood. Screams echoed across battlefields that never rested. People begged the heavens for salvation.
But heaven did not answer.
Chaos spread everywhere.
Then, one day, without warning, a golden spear of light pierced the sky and descended into the heart of the battlefield. From that light stepped a man—followed by six dragons, each radiating overwhelming power.
That man was Sol, the strongest Binder of that era.
In just six months, Sol ended the war. He took control of the world, crushed rebellion, and forced peace upon a broken land. Under his rule, the world was protected… even if it feared him.
And then—suddenly—Sol died.
The six dragons vanished.
What happened after that… no one knows.
There are no records. No ruins. No proof that Sol, the dragons, or the Era of Binders ever existed.
History is silent.
"Then how do you know about it, Dad?" young Silas asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.
Kevin smiled softly. "Because I'm an explorer," he said. "And while exploring the world, I learned things most people never will."
Silas clutched his blanket. "Tell me more."
Kevin chuckled. "It's bedtime now. You have school tomorrow."
"Nooo,I want to hear more stories."
Kevin ruffled his son's hair. "How about this—go to sleep now, and when I come back from my next trip, I'll tell you even better stories."
Silas hesitated. "Promise?"
"I promise."
Kevin turned off the light. "Good night, my son."
"Good night, Dad."
Unfortunately, that was the last bedtime story Silas ever heard from his father.
Kevin never came back.
He went missing during his expedition, and no one ever discovered where he had gone. The police searched, questioned, and investigated—but found nothing.
Silas was eight years old.
He had already lost his mother at the age of two.
Now, he had lost his father as well.
His relatives whispered behind closed doors. They called him unlucky. Some believed misfortune followed him, that keeping him close would only bring danger.
In the end, only his grandmother took him in.
She raised Silas with patience and quiet strength. She fed him, taught him, and protected him from the cruelty of the world. Under her care, Silas grew—not happy, but alive.
And for a while, life was peaceful.
Until the day he met her.