Long ago, before borders carved the land into pieces, the world was whole. One kingdom. One people. And among them, there was a man-no, a legend. To his people, he was more than flesh and bone. They saw him as something divine, not because he claimed it, but because his heart was so pure, his purpose so unwavering. A warrior of light, driven not by glory but by the good of all.
No one dared question the title that clung to him like armor. Not even the only man he'd ever call his equal-his best friend. The King of the World.
Together, they weren't just rulers. They were guides, protectors... symbols of hope. Under their watch, humanity came close-so close-to achieving true peace. A peace that didn't feel like a dream, but a promise being kept.
But, as with all stories born in light, darkness waits patiently in the wings.
It came quietly at first, like a whisper behind the curtains. Then it roared. And when it did, it didn't just challenge the good in the world-it consumed it. Swallowed it whole, as if to prove that balance must always come at a cost.
And just like that, the age of harmony ended. What remained was a curse. A wound stitched into the fabric of the world, waiting... hoping... that one day, someone brave enough, pure enough, might break it.