Metabolḗ(Draft Edit)

Prologue; The aftermath

The world laid in ruins, a testament to the devastating power of the unleashed, when gods and dragons clashed. Smoke rose from the charred remains of once-mighty cities, their spires now nothing more than jagged teeth jutting from the scorched earth. The sky, perpetually overcast, was tinged with an ominous red glow as if the very heavens themselves were weeping blood.

In the distance, the carcass of a colossal dragon sprawled across a mountain range. Its cobblestoned scales dulled and its eyes lifeless. Nearby, a shattered divine weapon still crackling with residual energy, stood as a silent monument to the fallen deity who once wielded it.

Amidst this desolation, a lone figure stumbled forward, neither god nor dragon, something far greater. It paused, surveying the destruction with eyes that held weight of eons, and spoke to the empty air:

"It was not supposed to end this way. Let me tell you how it began, how the seeds of this cataclysm were sown long ago, in a time when the world was young and the boundaries between realms were yet undefined..."

And so, the tale of gods, dragons, and war unfolds, rewinding from this grim finale to the fateful beginning that set everything in motion.