That day, the sky shattered into countless fragments.
It's not a metaphor, it's really broken.
The space is like a mirror broken by a giant. The cracks spread from the clouds, splitting the sky into countless pieces. Strange light pours out from the cracks - some are red like fire, some are blue like ice, and some are pitch black like ink.
Then they came.
Creatures poured out of the cracks and swept across the land like a tidal wave. Some are as huge as mountains, and every step makes the ground tremble; some are as fast as ghosts, traveling through the steel jungle of the city to hunt; some are as tiny as dust, burrowing into living things to reproduce parasitically.
The technology that humans are proud of is vulnerable to them. Missiles cannot hit monsters that can distort space, tanks cannot stop the breath that can melt through steel, and viruses have no effect on them.
The end is coming.
That year was known in history as the "First Year of the Sky Splitting".
But humans are not extinct.
In the abyss of despair, hope comes in the most incredible way - those humans who have signed soul contracts with monsters awaken to powers beyond imagination. They can control fire, thunder, and ice, heal injuries, predict danger, and strengthen themselves.
They are called - Envoys.
And those tamed monsters are called-taming beasts.
A hundred years later.
The end is history and order has been reestablished. Being an imperial emissary has become the most noble profession in this era, and "animal training" has become a required course for every child, just like the foreign languages in the old days.
