(A Story Lost to Time... Until Now.)
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A kingdom above the clouds.
No, not a kingdom—a dominion.
The land beneath was merely their hunting ground. The skies, their playground. And the seas? Their mirror.
Here, in the highest halls of Vail''tharys, Titans gathered. Their bodies cast shadows over mountains, their breaths stirred storms. They were rulers not by birthright, but by the undeniable force of existence.
And at the heart of it all, seated upon a throne of obsidian and bone—
Albert, the First Titan King.
He was not really the largest, Nor the fiercest, Nor the oldest.
But when he spoke, the world listened.
"We conquered this world." His voice cracked the sky. "But it rejects us."
A silence followed. Heavy. Unnatural.
Even gods could feel fear.
It had begun with whispers—Titans who could no longer heal, Titans who withered into dust. Then came the land itself—quaking, shifting, reshaping, as if trying to erase them.
Something was pushing back.
And then, the sky split apart.
A gaping wound in reality itself. A rift that should not be.
And from it—they came.
Not gods.
Not beasts.
Humans.
A being, a small fragile creature it meant nothing to them , than an addition to the ecosystem, even though they don''t know how they came into the planet.
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At first, the Titans laughed.
What could fragile creatures of blood and bone do against those who shaped mountains?
Then the first Titan fell.
Then the second.
Then the tenth.
Then the hundredth.
The laughter stopped.
Because human hands had forged something new—weapons that could slay gods.
Because one of their own had betrayed them.
The Titan of darkness , Noctarion
He had once been a Titan. A god among gods.
Now, he stood at the head of the human armies, wielding a power beyond Titankind.
"The cycle must end," he declared.
And with those words, the war truly began.
Titans burned.
Cities crumbled.
And the first Cores were born—shattered fragments of Titan souls, crystallized into weapons for humans to wield.
But the true horror was still to come.
Because humans did not just slay Titans.
They became them.
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An epic battle was about to begin that will determine the end of the war, a battle between titans god''s, a battle between the titan of light Kelvin and the titan of darkness Noctarion
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The sky burned as Kelvin solmora descended. His form was an ethereal blaze, an impossible fusion of light and fire, his molten wings stretching across the heavens like a second sun.
"Noctarion… you would dare forsake our kind for power?"
Noctarion, wreathed in abyssal mist, merely grinned. His form warped the space around him, a silhouette of shadows bound in an armor of living void. His voice was an echo from the abyss itself.
"Power is the only truth, kelvin. And you will learn it—by falling."
Solmora raised a single burning spear, its tip crackling with pure cosmic energy.
"Titan Art: DAWNFIRE SPEAR!"
A beam of pure radiance, wider than mountains, ripped through the battlefield, reducing the very air to golden embers. The heat burned through dimensions, forcing reality itself to recoil.
But the darkness did not falter.
Noctarion raised his hand—and the light bent around him, consumed by the void.
His technique—
"Veilborn Abyss—CONSUME!"
A devouring force swallowed all light, all heat, all matter.
Solmora''s attack vanished into nothingness.
And Noctarion struck back.
The shadows coiled and twisted, forming a blade of absolute nothingness in Noctarion''s grip. It was Abyssfang, a weapon not meant to cut flesh, but existence itself.
He moved.
And the world split.
"Veilborn Abyss—ABYSSFANG CLEAVE!"
In one instant, he crossed the battlefield, his blade carving through kelvin chest. Not just his body—but his very being.
A Titan''s Core could not be broken.
But kelvin''s light dimmed.
For the first time in eternity—he felt fear.
"That power…" kelvin gasped, clutching his chest where his is Core as cracks spread across it. "You''ve become something else."
Noctarion laughed, the abyss writhing around him.
"Not something else. Something greater."
The darkness pulsed. The sky itself withered, stars collapsing into singularities at his mere presence.
And then—Albert arrived.
The earth shook.
The skies bent.
A single colossal footstep shattered the battlefield as Albert, the First Titan King, descended from the heavens.
Unlike Kelvin''s radiance or Noctarion''a abyss, Albert was pure will, a Titan whose very presence rewrote the laws of the world. His body was forged from the first stone of creation, his form wrapped in Titan sigils that dictated the laws of existence itself.
"You have broken the balance, Nox."
His voice was not spoken. It was law.
Noctarion snarled. "The balance was a lie. We were meant to rule, not be shackled by your will."
" You are getting it wrong we are ruling but not on your own terms" Albert replied angrily.
Nactarion replied " why don''t you let me rule then"
"You will never keep the balance of the world", Albert replied.
"Then we have to fight it out " Nactarion said while getting in stance for a fight.
Albert raised his fist.
"Titan Decree—WORLD BREAKER FIST!"
And the sky fell.
The sheer force of his will became reality, and in one motion, he commanded the heavens to collapse upon them all.
Mountains turned to dust. The very concept of gravity obeyed his decree, warping around his unstoppable punch.
Nactarion''s eyes widened—just for a moment—before he countered.
Nactarion did not block.
He consumed.
His shadows expanded, not as an attack, but as a wound in reality itself, swallowing Albert''s Decree before it could take form.
Then—he thrust his hand forward, and the abyss answered.
"Veilborn Abyss—ECLIPSE DEVOURER!"
A technique that erased the laws of existence, unraveling everything it touched into an abyssal void.
Albert''s arm began to vanish.
Not burned.
Not destroyed.
Simply unmade.
Even Albert—the First King, the Prime Titan—staggered.
Kelvin, despite his wounds, did not hesitate.
Light exploded from his Core—
"Titan Art—SOLAR OBLIVION!"
His body became pure energy, his Core igniting the atmosphere itself, erasing the abyss with sheer intensity.
Thanos screamed as the light pierced through him, his shadow form crumbling.
Albert, even with one arm dissolving, brought his fist down.
"FINAL TITAN DECREE—JUDGMENT HAMMER!"
The world itself roared in defiance.
The battlefield was no longer a battlefield.
It was ruin.
Noctarion fell, his body reduced to a fractured Core barely holding its form. His abyss, his impossible power—fading.
Albert loomed over him, his eyes unreadable.
"You have taken your place in history, Nactarion."
With his hand, he dug out his titan core from his chest,he then shattered Albert''s Core.
The Titan of Darkness—was undone.
But before he was erased, Nactarion laughed.
And with his last breath, he whispered:
"This… is not the end, my army descend on to the world".
And from the abyss, a creature of darkness came out called veilborns.
The abyss lingered.
And in that abyss, his will remained.
Even shattered, the darkness had not truly died.
It had simply waited.
And the world, though saved, would never be the same again.
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The titan of light later died with his core shattered and the first titan king was killed by the army of veilborns.
While other Titans were not defeated.
They were sealed.
Their bodies buried beneath cities, their power siphoned to fuel civilization.
And their conquerors?
They built an empire in the Betrayer''s name.
They called it the Titan Federation.
They called themselves heroes.
But to the ones they conquered, they were jailers.
And history?
It was rewritten.
Because what was once a war of survival became a tale of monsters being tamed.
Because what was once a legend of defiance became a story of order prevailing.
Because Titans were no longer remembered as rulers.
They were remembered as myths.
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About a 1000 years later, inside a ruined temple
The night Zoren was born, the sky wept fire.
Not rain. Not lightning. Fire.
Burning fragments of a Titan''s remains descended from the heavens, crashing into the land with the force of fallen gods. The ground trembled, the mountains split, and the very air screamed.
Some called it a sign.
Some called it a curse.
But for the woman giving birth amidst the chaos, there was no prophecy—only pain.
Inside a ruined temple, she lay on cold stone, her body frail, her breath ragged. A woman of no kingdom, of no name known to the world, yet she carried within her a child that the heavens themselves seemed desperate to erase.
A child that should not have been born.
And then—he arrived.
His first cry cut through the storm, louder than the howling winds, louder than the crumbling earth. His small body—frail, fragile—held the mark of something unnatural.
A Core, unlike any before.
A Core split in two.
One side—an abyssal black, pulsing with a power that devoured the very light around it.
The other—a radiant white, burning like a dying star.
A Vailborn Core. A Light Core. Together.
The mother''s trembling hands reached for him, her lips forming silent words. Love. Hope. Fear.
She saw the child''s future.
She saw a world that would never accept him.
And in that moment, she made her choice.
She pressed a small pendant to his tiny fingers—a forgotten sigil, a name lost to time.
And she whispered her final words.
"Live."
She was not alone.
The hunters had come.
Dark figures stood at the temple''s shattered entrance, their cloaks tattered from the storm, their blades reflecting the firelit sky.
Titan Hunters.
Their leader stepped forward, his face hidden behind a mask of carved bone. His eyes did not hold hatred. Only duty.
"The child must die."
The mother, bleeding, broken, did not beg.
She did not cry.
She held her son close.
And she ran.
Through the ruins, through the flames, through the storm that threatened to swallow her whole.
The first spear struck her back.
She did not fall.
The second pierced her leg.
She did not stop.
She held the child tighter, blood dripping from her lips, her strength fading with every step.
But then—
The third blade found her heart.
Her breath hitched.
Her steps slowed.
But even as she fell, she never let go of him.
Her final act—to shield him from the cold.
A mother''s last defiance.
For a moment, there was silence.
And then—the child wailed.
A cry that shattered the air, that made the hunters pause.
The storm swirled around him, the fire bent towards him, the very earth trembled beneath his tiny hands.
And in the darkness—something stirred.
The Titan Hunters had fought beasts, gods, and monsters.
But in that moment—they felt fear.
The leader of the hunters raised his blade once more.
But before he could strike—the storm consumed them all.
When the fire faded, the temple lay in ruins.
The hunters were gone.
And in the ashes, amidst the remnants of death and fate—the child remained.
Alone.
Silent.
His mother''s blood still warm against his skin.
A child born between light and dark.
A child without a family.
A child without a home.
And so, the world moved on, forgetting the night the sky burned.
Forgetting him.
But the boy—he would remember.
One day, the world would learn his name.
One day, he would carve it into history itself.
Zoren.
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(The Story Begins...)