The game Starlit Prayer is a realm woven with intricate design, where every choice resonates with destiny.

The selection of race and vocation at the outset shapes a player’s path in profound ways.

Five races stand open to most.

Humans, balanced in their attributes, bear neither striking strengths nor glaring flaws, earning them fair dealings and quests from most denizens of the Starlit Realm.

Elves, fleet-footed and graced with ethereal beauty, may unlock exclusive vocations, yet their frail vitality and strength leave them vulnerable in the early trials.

Orcs, towering in initial strength, endurance, and vitality above all races, are barred from wielding magic and struggle to win favor in human empires.

Dwarves, akin to humans in balance, are slowed by their stout frames but can forge masterful firearms in the mid-to-late game.

Merfolk, peerless in aquatic combat, falter on land and are bound to the mysteries of water-based magic.

Each race carries its own boons and burdens, with no single path reigning supreme—triumph hinges on a player’s choices and the fortunes they seize within the Starlit Realm.

Vocations echo this truth.

Races are seldom altered, save through the sacred rites of rebirth at the Hall of Rebirth upon reaching level 100.

Vocations, however, are more malleable. At level 20, players may seek mentors in grand cities to hone their craft, ascending to greater power.

Through rare quests or fated encounters, they might unlock hidden paths—vocations of unmatched potency.

Most rare vocations eclipse their common kin, bearing unique gifts.

For what worth is a hard-won prize if it merely equals the ordinary?

Caelum Veyne held these secrets in his heart, etched deep from a life before.

In that past life, he might have chosen a human mage, treading a familiar path with practiced ease.

But reborn, armed with a trove of knowledge, to settle for a mundane beginning would be to squander fate’s rare gift.

In his former life, the ways to rare vocations were known, yet most were fraught with peril and toil.

But one vocation could be claimed at the very dawn of the game—available only on its opening day!

This was the path he now pursued.

By spurning the Genesis Sanctum’s call to forge a character and striding boldly in the opposite direction, a player could reach the Altar of the Worldbreaker.

There, through fervent prayer and the offering of their soul to the Worldbreaker, they could seize a power beyond mortal ken!

Thus was born the rare vocation: Disciple of Calamity.

This calling dwarfed all common paths. A force unrivaled, it bore the Worldbreaker’s blessings—tremendous surges in strength, agility, intellect, and endurance. Its bearers wielded formidable defenses and near-impenetrable magic resistance, commanding the devastating arts of Calamity magic. In time, they could ascend to Warden of Calamity, blending martial might with unyielding resolve, or Chanter of Calamity, weaving arcane power into ruinous hymns. In the endgame, they could summon the Fist of the Worldbreaker, a cataclysm to rend the world asunder.

In sheer might, this vocation knew no equal!

It could be distilled into two words: utterly invincible!

From the earliest trials to the final battles, it crushed lesser foes with disdainful ease.

Its lone flaw? As a disciple of Calamity, players had to shroud their identity with a Veil of Legacy within city walls. To reveal their power openly would ignite the wrath of the Emissaries of the Divine and the Order of the Radiant Light, drawing relentless pursuit.

But Caelum, a wayfarer unbound by this world’s chains, cared nothing for such trifles.

What mattered justice or darkness?

Power alone was his pursuit!

To wield strength, to dominate rather than kneel—

Even if it meant dwelling in eternal shadow, so be it.

In his past life, among the myriad souls of the Starlit Realm, only twelve chanced upon this path.

Without fail, they rose as titans, unchallenged and unrivaled, crowned by players as the Twelve Pillars of Ruin, their names wreathed in glory and envy.

Back then, Caelum was but a lowly grindworker, gazing up at their radiant dominion.

But now, reborn, he would claim a place among them!

No—he would eclipse them, rising as the mightiest of their number!

His eyes blazed with unyielding fervor as he stood before the fearsome dragon statue, its dread visage looming like a storm over the shadowed realm.

Clasping his hands, he intoned with fervent reverence, his voice a vow to the abyss:

“O great Sovereign of Calamity, Lord of Finality!”

“Your majesty is boundless, your might unmatched! You shatter all that stands, you end destinies, you trample the Celestials beneath your claws, invincible in this world!”

…

“Most revered sovereign, grant me the honor of being your humble disciple!”

“Let me weave the saga of your reign, an anthem to your eternal dominion!”

Unbeknownst to him,

Every facet of this shadowed realm—every word, every deed,

His visage, his voice, his every trembling motion—

Unfolded in the piercing gaze of another.

The Worldbreaker, the Sovereign of Calamity,

The dread Lord of Finality, newly roused from his aeon’s slumber—

Draven Zorathar!