When the first ray of morning light pierced the clouds in the Realm of Eternal Night, Alves was kneeling in front of the cold altar, his fingertips rubbing the cracked obsidian slab. The star map on the stone slab has long been blurred, and only the silvery-white track across the sky in the center is still clear - that is the starting point of the "Game of the Gods" and the fateful imprint of all those who defy fate. His people were once the guardians of this continent, but now they are reduced to forgotten dust, and even prayers can only be whispered in the ruins.
