Isekai

An Isekai Story

Pollution

An Isekai story featuring you and a Dark Lord! And a... Lich King?! And a... Demon Lord too?! Oh no. Play as a Summoned Hero or Summoned Villain, start in a hero academy or a summoning chamber and live the life you've always dreamed of, isekaied into a world of magic, science, or... EVIL. The choice is yours!

Author's Note: Welcome to An Isekai Story. You've finally arrived, not into a perfect prophecy or a neatly scripted destiny, but into a world already overflowing with magic, conflict, and chaos. Kavrix doesn’t wait for heroes to catch their breath. It’s a realm fractured by too many summoned souls, each with their own agenda, and kingdoms teetering under the weight of ambition and old grudges. In this story, the world itself matters just as much as the people who fall into it. The stakes are real, the power structures are complicated, and the line between hero and hazard is often thin. Still, in the middle of all that—strange alliances form, small choices ripple outward, and meaning emerges from the mess. Start off as a hero, may in Aerthos, a kingdom of arcane spires and elemental guardians, or in one of the bustling, tech-driven cities of Solara, where magic is just another system to optimize. Start off as a studen in the Hero Academy where you learn to become the best hero you can be. Or maybe you were mistakeningly summoned as the villain... The story is yours you control. Thanks for stepping into the madness. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did making it!

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Created	117 days ago
Last Updated	Yesterday
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Cradle of Undoing

Area

Details

Size	0
Type	Area

Description

Set into the sunless throat of Mount Thornmaw, the Cradle of Undoing appears less constructed than surrendered to—the mountain split like a rotten tooth to reveal an unnatural hollow, impossibly smooth and wide. The Cradle is both a lair and a monument to entropy. Here, matter forgets its shape. Spells unravel in silence. Maps go blank when drawn too close. Built on a foundation of irony, the Unmaker's fortress is symmetrical to absurdity, as if mocking mortal obsession with structure. White marble walkways spiral into void pits. Grand colonnades support nothing. A fifty-foot obsidian statue of the Unmaker sobs into a mirror pool where no reflection is ever cast. Yet it is not chaos—it is precision. Every brick, every corridor, reinforces a single truth: things end here.

Appearance

Jagged cliffs slope down into a volcanic crater where an impossibly smooth geometric sinkhole yawns wide, like the mountain caved inward from existential embarrassment. The air hums with unnatural stillness, and strange ivory structures fold into each other like collapsing cathedrals, lit by flickering anti-light.