The Titanfall Chronicles: HEAVENBURN

1. Lore of the Land.

"There was once nothing.

Two Titans, one clad in Black and one clad in White, created the universe we live in today—all of its systems, all of its rules and all of its laws.

On most basic things they agreed, but their design sensibilities were drastically different. Individually, they tried to make giants, they tried to make fairies, to make molemen, to make elves, to make mermen.

They tried to make humans.

But both failed to make the souls persist within the flesh. Each Titan's creation was lacking the fundamental essence of the other's craft.

When He made animals, She made monsters.

When She invented companionship, He invented solitude.

They were naturally antagonistic in a way that couldn't be solved through communication. Thus their creatures— mammals, spirits, fish, golems, birds, hybrids— all of them underwent Decay, and any survivors of Decay became the first angels and demons, led by their guardians Cerberus and Seraphim. Each stayed within their own domain, and each kept within their own niche. The Male ruled over The Land Above, and The Female ruled over The Land Below.

They couldn't rectify this irreparable boundary that barred them from creating life in The Land Between. They needed a vessel, a child born from both light and dark. A being so intrinsically linked to both aspects of creation, whatever that child made would not fall to the negative feedback loop of Decay. This child would stabilise the species.

So they combined their powers and had an offspring, who named themself a completely inconceivable, unpronounceable name. The only surviving syllable to this day is one.

Kid.

The child, with Their two hands spread, was welcomed into Their parents' arms lovingly. This power They held, fluctuating between Black and White until it settled between Their two arms, overruled the nothingness. He was the final ingredient to making living beings; thus he brought on the end of the beginning. The End"

A scrawny blonde girl on a large couch closed the book she was reading, titled The Lore of the Land. She never knew why exactly, but she always liked reading that book. She kept it next to her bed to skim through every morning and took it downstairs after school to read it to her brothers at night once a month, which is what was happening now. The three boys were huddled on the couch opposite her, listening intently not because they enjoyed the story, but because they enjoyed the storytelling; there was something regal about the way the girl spoke about this book, like she had known it all her life and a bit before.

"Can you read another one?" asked Fredrick, the oldest of the triplets by 90 seconds.

Samantha, the blonde storyteller, ran her finger across the embossed title on the front cover, making a silly face as if she was thinking about it, but her expression was largely exaggerated.

"No," said Samantha, the oldest of them all by 5 years, "It's already dark. You should be in bed, not the living room warming up by the fireplace and listening to me rant about a history book for— what, three hours?" The three brothers huddled up in the chair across the fireplace, disappointed at her sense of responsibility.

She glanced up at the painting of the tree above the copper coloured metal fireplace for a split second, then at her brothers again. She forgot they moved the clock, and that night it was oddly too dark to see the time on it anyway.