"They say the world changed in a single night.

No one saw it coming. No prophecies, no warnings, just fire falling from the sky like the end of everything. Meteorites, huge, burning, alive—slammed into the earth. Some blew up mid-air, showering cities in molten shards. Others hit like gods throwing punches, carving deep craters in the world we thought we understood.

It didn't happen in one place. It was everywhere. Mech-cities, cloud towers, slums—every screen lit up with the same firestorm. Panic spread. So did curiosity. Scientists, engineers, code-priests, soldiers—everyone wanted a piece of the mystery. Everyone wanted the fragments.

They weren't just rocks. They hummed. Glowed. Reacted. We didn't know what they were, but we knew they weren't from here.

Governments built labs. Ran tests. Most of them failed. Then came the Church of Eternity. Ancient, powerful, creepy as hell. They didn't study the fragments. They worshipped them. And somehow, that worked. They tapped into the energy inside. Gave it a name: Divine Resonance.

And once that name spread, everything went to hell.

See, if you touched a fragment—sometimes—it changed you. Gave you speed, strength, senses way beyond human. But it wasn't consistent. Only some people got the full effect. It was like the fragments chose them.

Those people? We called them touched, or resonants, freaks, or just weapons, depending on who was talking. No one really knows why it works. Still don't.

And yeah, the world did what it always does—turned it into a war.

The Meteor Wars. The biggest humanity's ever seen. Cities burned. Skies went black. Nations collapsed. Some people got worshipped like gods. Some became gods. Sort of.

And in the middle of it all... there was him.

The Guardian of Yuron.

No one knows who he was. Just showed up out of nowhere, bound to the royal family of Ignis Aetheria like it was destiny.

People say he couldn't be killed. That he stood alone against entire divisions. A walking myth.

But then—he vanished.

No warning. No goodbye. Just gone. Right when Yuron needed him most.

Some say he betrayed them. The nation that raised him. The family he swore to protect. Doesn't matter. Without him, Delpharis, Lunaris, and the Helion Combine launched a full-scale assault. The capital fell.

The Church swept in and "saved" what was left. Everyone knows they just claimed the wreckage. The royals were exiled. The Church brokered some shiny deal to keep things "stable," but they took the core of Yuron—the cradle of Aetheria—and made it their own holy empire.

The war ended. But the world didn't heal. It just shifted.

What's left now are fragments—and stories.

Stories about people like us. People who weren't chosen, weren't trained, but still... connected. Somehow. We don't know why. We don't even know if we're dangerous.

But here we are.

Didn't ask for this. Didn't want it.

And yet...

We're part of it now.

Inside the storm.

Whether we survive or not...

That's the story you're about to hear."


-Unknown