...

It was a cold winter night. In the dark sky, the moon shone with a crimson, blood-like glow, casting an ominous hue over the fields below. In that moment, the Great Spirit watched the earth, bearing witness to a gaping wound carved into its very essence. It hurt-not a pain of flesh, but something deeper, something mortals called a soul. A pain unknown to the gods, yet on that night, the kindest among them felt it for the first time.

Beneath the celestial body, the once-pristine winter fields were now drenched in scarlet. Hundreds of figures clashed in a brutal, mortal struggle-Elves, Orcs, Satyrs, Centaurs, Fairies, Gnomes, Hydras, Unicorns. Every creature of imagination stood upon that battlefield, each locked in their own conflict, their own war. Vampires, Werewolves, Gargoyles, Witches-swarms of them, tearing through flesh, severing limbs, piercing hearts, rending bodies apart. A grotesque spectacle, one that deepened the Great Spirit's wound with every passing moment.

-Enough!

The cry reverberated through the heavens, reaching even the distant stars, which gazed down in silent pity upon the divine being. For the first time, the sky bore witness to the raw agony of a celestial entity of light-a sorrow that took form as silent tears, slipping unnoticed toward the earth below.

None of the creatures saw.
None who fought on that field felt it.
But the delicate veil separating the realms trembled.

And through it, two beings emerged.

...