The World Unbroken
Nova Prime was once a single colossal supercontinent, bound together under a single sky. No seas divided it, no mountains marked borders — only endless plains, deserts, and wild jungles. In this time, the Proven walked the land openly. These nameless ancients were not gods as mortals imagine, but living concepts — embodiments of death, hunger, fire, silence. They clashed endlessly, their battles scarring the world.
The Limitless Virus
Their wars birthed the Limitless Virus, a sickness born not of nature but of divinity, spilled from the Proven’s blood as they tore each other apart. The Virus did not kill; it transformed. Beasts grew into abominations. Mortals mutated into terrors. Even the land itself warped. When the Virus spiraled out of control, the Proven tried to purge it by destroying each other — their final clash shattered the supercontinent into the continents known today, an event later mistaken for an asteroid strike.
The Snake Called End
Among the first Proven was a colossal serpent named End, the embodiment of death itself. End despised humanity, devouring entire tribes in silence. Yet even End met rivals in the other Proven, and in those wars shed countless scales. One such scale, steeped in its essence, hardened into the Ring of the End — not forged, but born. To mortals, it became the first Devil’s Crown, an artifact of shadow and terror.
The Ring of the End fed on collective mortal fear, growing darker with each nightmare of apocalypse. Legends claim the ring holds the Seven Sins, each unlocked by trial — Wrath, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride — each a step toward becoming the Devil itself. To wear it is to be chosen as fear’s vessel.
The Great Beasts and the Dragons
The first war was not Proven against Proven, but Dragons against the Great Beasts. Dragons were titanic, radiant creatures of flame and sky — the apex predators of early Nova Prime. But the Great Beasts were worse: endless swarms of goblins, countless trillions of them. Small, vicious, and strange, they were stronger than men, more cunning than beasts, and wielded raw magic by instinct.
The Dragons should have won — they had wings, fire, and size. But the goblins cheated. They multiplied endlessly, overwhelmed the skies with sheer numbers, and ripped down even the mightiest wyrms. The Great Beasts never truly lost; they retreated tactically into the world’s hidden places, waiting.
The Arrival of the Solari
As Nova Prime drowned in chaos, the first aliens arrived. The Solari, born of stars, came not as conquerors but as pilgrims. Their home, Zaurion, was carved from an asteroid of living light, orbiting their sun. Each Solari carried the fire of stars within them, and with it the ability to walk where even Proven feared.
They recorded what they saw in star maps of impossible accuracy — records so precise that modern explorers still have not found all the galaxies inscribed there. To the Solari, Nova Prime was a wound in reality, a world scarred by divine conflict. Yet to them, scars were lessons, and they began their pilgrimages across its deserts and forests, learning from its horrors.
The Shaping of Myth
From these beginnings, the foundations of Nova Prime’s myths were laid:
That death wears a serpent’s crown.
That humanity’s greatest terror is its own fear, embodied in the Ring.
That dragons did not vanish, but wait.
That the goblin swarms — the Great Beasts — are never gone, only hidden.
That the stars themselves left watchers, the Solari, who still whisper of the Ninth Sun.
The Primordial Age ends not with peace, but with silence: the Proven gone, their artifacts buried, the Virus dormant in bloodlines, and the world broken into continents. Mortals inherited a battlefield, not a paradise.
The Dragon Purge
After their endless swarms nearly toppled dragonkind, the goblins overreached. The wyrms discovered the Nest Mother, a churning hive of eggs and spawning pits, and struck with fury. For the first time, dragonkind united, burning goblins in uncountable numbers. Though the dragons suffered grievous wounds, they nearly eradicated the Great Beasts.
The Lycans’ Hunt
Yet from the shadows rose a new predator: the first Lycans. Where goblins were pests, Lycans were deliberate executioners. They stalked dragonkind for sport, tearing down titans with fang, claw, and cunning. Dragons found themselves besieged on two fronts — goblins beneath, Lycans above. Their eternal rivalry was born here, written in blood and ash.
The Rise of Humanity
Amid this chaos, humanity thrived in the margins. Once prey, they now learned to steal fire from dragons and to weave magic from the echoes of Proven blood in the soil. Fire was no longer just warmth or defense — it was power, a tool that could stand against claw and scale. Magic, in its first form, was crude but terrifying, reshaping the balance of survival.
For the first time, mortals were not just victims. Tribes forged weapons, tamed flames, and carved marks of their power into stone and cave walls. When dragons and Lycans clashed, men built villages in the shadows of their corpses.
The Shifting Circle
The natural order bent and twisted.
Dragons, once kings of the sky, were driven into dwindling flight.
Goblins, shattered and broken, fled across the sea and into the deserts of Arkos, burrowing beneath the sands. From trillions, they were reduced to thousands, waiting for the day of resurgence.
Lycans, drunk on victory, turned their endless hunt into ritual, cementing their rivalry with dragonkind in bloodsport.
Humanity found new footing, discovering that power was not given but taken.
The Eternal Rivalry
From this age came one of Nova Prime’s deepest scars: the undying hatred between dragon and lycan. Their war became so consuming that mortals were left largely ignored, giving humankind space to grow unchecked. While giants clashed in the skies, humans claimed the earth below.
Thus ended the Age of Beasts and Rising Men — not with victory, but with a precarious balance. Dragons dwindled, Lycans spread, goblins hid, and humanity’s spark of magic grew brighter with every stolen fire.
As humanity’s crude mastery of fire and magic grew, a new force appeared among them: the first mutations. From this soil of survival rose Krakos, the Sky-Hunter. Born different, his body bore scars and strange markings unlike any other. He could leap higher, heal faster, and most impossibly — fly. Krakos was the first Limitless, the primal ancestor of every mutation that would come after.
It was Krakos who shifted the balance of power between mortals and titans. With stone spears and obsidian axes, he met the dragons in the skies. Faster than their wings could beat, he struck them from the air, tearing hide and bone with blows that no man should deliver. When Krakos felled his first dragon, humanity’s fate changed. No longer prey, they became predators in their own right. His people learned from his example — crafting the first true weapons, bows, and arrows to strike at predators from afar.
Inspired by Krakos, humanity formed the first warrior tribes. Men and women gathered under painted banners, recording their victories on cave walls and stone monuments. Their villages grew into fortresses, their hunters into armies. For the first time, humans could stand together against the night — and survive.
Dragons, already besieged by Lycans, now faced an enemy they could neither crush nor ignore. Krakos and his followers hunted them relentlessly. Where dragons had once ruled the skies, now they bled into the snow. The rivalry between dragon and lycan deepened, but humanity was no longer beneath notice. They had entered the great circle of predators.
At the end of this age came a battle sung in whispers and painted in blood: Krakos and his warriors against twenty dragons. The clash raged for days in the skies and across frozen plains. Krakos and his kin drove the wyrms to the edge of extinction — but at terrible cost. The great ice dragon leading the brood, unwilling to allow Krakos to live, unleashed the last of his power. With a roar that split mountains, he froze the battlefield entire, entombing Krakos, his army, and himself in a glacial tomb.
From that storm of ice was born Thaloras, the frozen continent. What had been mountain and forest became glacier and blizzard, locked in eternal frost. Krakos lay suspended mid-flight, spear in hand, eyes glowing faintly beneath the ice. His people were gone, their legacy buried with him.
Though frozen, Krakos became myth. Dragons remember his name in terror, calling him the Sky-Hunter. Cave paintings of winged men with spears survive even into modern ages, hinting at the first spark of mutation. Unknown to all, the blood within him — the Limitless virus — slumbered, waiting to reemerge. His story marked the beginning of mutation as a force in Nova Prime’s history, and the end of the Age of Giants.