The world didn’t explode. It rotted from the inside, like a tongue bitten until it bleeds—never truly torn out, just left to fester.
The great nations faded one by one—not through nuclear war, nor through a virus, but through the ugliness of mankind.
There was no more France, no Arica, no China—only Zones : Safe Zone,PurifiedZones and UnstableZones. The world was rebuilt from scratch by bloodstained hands.
England, master of industries and the last bastion of monarchy, collapsed when its dams were swallowed by the rising sea.
The United Arab Emirates, holder of incalculable wealth thanks to the black gold of the desert was reduced to extre poverty when their reserves were exhausted and the ergence of new and ecological energy, the apocalypse was as if to definitively end their reigns.
The United States, a technocratic superpower, fell beneath the weight of its own paranoia—its AIs deeming all human life a primary threat a crisis pushing citizens of the country but also those of the world to exceed their limits, equipping themselves with implants to fight for decades.
Following the Great Fall, a global coalition erged.
The World Governnt—a hybrid entity made up of forr leaders, gacorporations, and religious orders—rose as the sole authority.
Its mission ? Manage the remaining resources, protect the last zone, eliminate all threats—Awakened, mutants, heretics.
Behind the scenes, it beca inseparably linked to the New Church, birthing a new world order guided by dogma, fear, and artificiel light.
The world today is divided between the Bastions of Light—technocratic theocratic fortresses under Global Governnt control—and the No Man’s Land, where the law of the strongest reigns.
And amidst the ruins of the world, a lone man walked against the current.
Kang Soo Jin, known as the Banished One.
"Jin", for the truth buried deep. "Kang", for the river that cannot be stopped. "Soo", for water, because one day you will drown this world.
His actions beca songs for the hopeless :
— He blew up Delta-9 Laboratory, a secret haven of child experints, freeing 324 altered children.
— He forced Cardinal Avarenn, guardian of the sacred archives, to read aloud his own cris before skinning him alive on an altar.
— He slew the Black Archangel Altheron, Klein’s right hand, by driving a stone stake through his belly, forcing his body to implode.
The Earth, long gangrened by pride, sin, and shalessness, received him like divine punishnt.
To the devout, he was the Hand of God. To others, a harbinger of the end.
The black teors, bearers of corrupt energy, brought decay to everything they touched.
Forests rotted, oceans blackened, cities dimd.
The white teors, rare and coveted, emitted a pure energy—but none were without cost.
Humans and animals mutated. So died in excruciating agony.
Others rose anew, changed, awakened, bearers of supernatural gifts.
But these powers, however mighty, ca at a tragic price—ostracized, hunted, hated, they beca pariahs.
The world descended into a new age of darkness.
Whole nations collapsed. China, a millennia-old bastion of science and culture, was consud by the "Awakened".
Other countries were quarantined, abandoned to degeneration, forgotten by the rest of the world.
The white teors, rare and inaccessible, crashed into zones now controlled by the great Western powers.
Their gifts—cellular regeneration, clairvoyance, telekinesis—were monopolized by governnts.
Powers of "light", accessible only to the elite.
A new world was built around them.
There, people live longer, cleaner, better—and more false.
The black ones fell elsewhere. Into deserts, jungles, ruins of fallen nations.
Their power is unstable. Those who touch them are never the sa, their flesh twists, their minds crack. Corruption takes root in them, a poisoned seed sprouting slowly.
Yes, it gives them strength—but at the cost of their humanity.
Dinsional portals, ruptures in reality caused by the black teors, allowed demonic creatures called Cauchemar to invade the world of n.
Ancient gods stirred. Mythical beasts awoke. And humanity was reduced to mory.
From the chaos rose a figure of light : Klein Illias Seraphiel, the Seraph of the End Tis, elected head of the New Church shortly before the cataclysm.
The forr Pope had vanished under mysterious circumstances, and without opposition, Klein ascended—by divine will and popular demand.
A prophet with a voice as soft as a lamb, his presence cald the masses, his gaze pierced the soul.
They said he foresaw the teors before they fell.
Under his banner, a new era of faith and redemption dawned.
He was the ssiah of a burning world, the archangel of a dying empire.
But elsewhere, another figure rose.
A man born from ashes and struggle—Jin, called "The Crownless" by the powers that be, and "The Real Hero" by those in the lost zones.
He was no prophet, no angel, but a broken man, a fugitive, carrying a dream—the dream of freeing the damned from the chains of hypocrisy.
In the No Man’s Lands—corrupted regions—Jin beca legend.
He gathered outcasts, Awakened, orphans, and forged a movent of resistance.
Thirty years ago, Jin was captured. Accused of treason, terrorism, and blasphemy, he was sentenced to death.
Yet many of his so-called "cris" were fabrications, orchestrated by the upper echelons of the new regi.
This prologue is not here to judge. Nor to absolve. It is here to show.
To show what the world has beco.
To show what humans do when everything is taken from them.
When they’re pushed to the edge.
When fear, dust, and an empty sky are all they inherit.
There is no innocence here. No heroes.
Only people who keep moving forward—despite the corpses, despite the mories.
Kang Soo Jin is not a savior. He is an answer, the rotten fruit of a tree watered too long with lies.
In his blood flows a power he doesn’t fully understand. Sotis he can’t recognize himself in the mirror. But he keeps going.
Because he must. Because soone has to.
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