A Layer of Earth
- LECTURES 481
- Votes 3
- Chapitres 4
We're all fiction in someone else's story.
2 worlds, both divided and united in their own right, converge together in an event that seems to shatter both realities.
For the people of Earth, their lands and world were ripped away from them, replaced with an alien yet equally familiar planet, where ancient evils and artificial peoples walk alongside men. Where people of unspeakable power can bend reality itself to their wills.
For the people of Remnant, their lands were inexplicably invaded by soulless masses, where their ideologies, nationalities, and agendas, once found in only fiction, now threaten to tear their world anew. For the original inhabitants, they could only hope that Remnant and her people don't end up buried...
Under a layer of Earth.
WARNING:
MODERN POLITICS IN THE MAIN PART! (we wish to remain apolitical in our messaging and keeping it straight to your face, however bias may leak in, and we cannot guarantee that.)
If this and not focusing on a group of characters is not your cup of tea, then LEAVE.
MAJORITY OF THE CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL! and i mean MAJORITY.
Based on the IP of RWBY, this is a fanfiction. The copyright is related to RWBY itself, owned by VIZ Media, and I claim no ownership to it. However, as a fan-made story, deviating from the series itself.
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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.
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