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❝
their glorious fight did
not end in a glorious win.
❞
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.2052.

              ∘ ₊ ✧ — when the fires died and the smoke perished what was seen was a wasted land. burned crops and forest, cities and towns, landscapes and fields, wherever they looked. "there is truly no hope for this planet, is there, your majesty?" the voice of the dark blonde male asked. the concern on the king's face was clearly showing that he too believed all hope was lost.

                no human could live on these wasted lands. they would starve. the final years of the great dark war had taken what technology they had left and no house stood to be lived in. what hope could they hold onto? the end of war was no end of anything truly. perhaps, it was the end of terror and fear of death and destruction, yet what was left were only the poor trives of humans having lost their spirits of living, knowing they would not survive even the onslaught of the coming winter months.

           and as days and months passed only those who had the true power to, the capability, the magic left, the hope in mind and heart and soul, those kept fighting and they fought strong minded and determined, attempting to regrow what had been lost, attempted to turn back what time they had lost. a second and minute a day to give life back to those who feared of losing it.

            but in the end...all they could do was throw the light, remind themselves and others of how previously glorious they were, how they swung their arms, spoke their spells and summoned their fire and thunder to save lives for the result of humanity's survival.

          it was all over now.

          until that day.
          that day the wall
          was found.

          the one lining the crossing OF the darker worlds. it was no wall in the end. it was a portal, capable of taking you to depths of an abyss, capable of getting you lost in limbo, yet also capable of gifting you with a home. a home no where else to be found.

          it was tiny but it was hope. a hope some did not dare to believe in but others held onto like it was the life they wanted to life, clutching on tightly to something they could not be sure would ever be there.

        the passing over was dangerous and cold, capable of corrupting souls to darkness and turning minds to dust, it could fill heads with the idea of wanting the evil power that surrounded them but upon opened eyes, there was light again. there was bright light and there were landscapes to love. to build upon.

a new world.
a new chance.
a new start of humanity.
it was a home.

                  a universe just for them.
the survivors of the great dark war and they called it:

the universe of
M A G N I K A I