iamhe_0
This isn't a story about heroes. It's about what happens after gods forget they were ever divine-and something else remembers.
In a universe stitched back together from a cosmic war between creation and oblivion, the echoes of ancient beings still pulse beneath human skin. The Heralds are gone, their golden power diluted into a fractured world where "Supes" rise and fall like counterfeit deities, clinging to borrowed light in a society built on denial. But beyond the illusion of control, something older-and far more patient-has been waiting.
Abyssus never left.
Now, reality itself is beginning to rot. The Terido, grotesque manifestations of a universe that never fully healed, crawl through the cracks of existence, warping flesh, bending physics, and unraveling truth. The sun is split. The world is fading. And humanity, loud and blind, stands on the edge of a second unmaking.
As sirens pierce the silence and shadows reclaim the horizon, one question lingers like a splinter in the mind:
What happens when hope forgets how to fight back?