The Fallen hero, a world built on ashes.

Destruction. This was the landscape that best reflected the ruin of this land. War had come and gone, again and again. The immense skyscrapers that made up one of the many existing cities were in ruins, lying broken and overgrown on the ground.

Everything was a ruin, abandoned by time, serving as a refuge for inert humans. Time seemed to have stood still for them, as astonishment and terror flashed across their faces. Their clothes were worn and marked by time, a sign that they had been in this state for much longer than a year.

Yet they were being annihilated without even knowing it. The shards of glass scattered in the flames reflected the horror of the scene. Buildings unwittingly destroyed by immense creatures. Flames devouring the landscape. Informed beings in pure white trying to contain them, unsuccessfully.

The modern world had collapsed since their arrival. Only the rare mechanical vestiges of this civilization had resisted them. But the result was there. These synthetics could do nothing, hiding in makeshift shelters in the hope of not being wiped out once all was lost. Henceforth, only these hidden living synthetics, and these ruins, remained as the last trace of the glorious, flourishing civilization humanity had created.

In the midst of this lively, yet bleak landscape, only the silent lament of a shapeless being blacker than night, with a few scars visible on its body, resounded. He approached the battlefield, ignoring his struggling comrades, staring at a precise point, hard to discern because it was so far away.

"I warned you of the consequences their creations could bring."

In reply, an ethereal voice came from another pure white figure. He too bore scars, a sign that he was different from the others.

"Silence! We can control them! Without them, everything we've done would lose its meaning. We need more power to save them!"

At the center of this scene, only a few laboratories seemed intact, at least until imposing creatures that could only be called dragons destroyed them, sometimes releasing other members of their species.

Those who had destroyed this world, these amorphous figures, had created abominations over which they had no control, these dragons. They had created all kinds of monsters worthy of the most dystopian dark fantasy worlds, but the most powerful species had escaped their control. They had infused them with all the power they possessed to create super-powered beings capable of protecting them from a threat far more terrifying than themselves. Yet all they had preserved from ruin, the humans whose downfall they had precipitated, were being killed by their enraged creation before their own helpless eyes.

As the black figure stepped forward alone, a multitude of murmurs were left behind.

"The hybrid dared to criticize an elder!"

"He should have been killed long before this."

However, the scarred figure, the elder, spoke in an even louder voice.

"Stop them! We have to stop them, not fight each other!"

In response, the informed beings who had created these dragons displayed terrifying power. They unleashed all manner of calamity on their adversary. Acid gnawing the earth to its core at the slightest touch, magma hotter than the sun itself, icy gusts easily reaching absolute zero.

However, the man who was blacker than night even managed to achieve the unthinkable as the immense dragons approaching him decomposed due to his sheer will. Even time bent to the rules of these beings, regressing according to their will when one of their comrades was burned beyond recognition, or shredded by a simple claw. Yet nothing could be done.

The only consequence of these gargantuan confrontations was destruction. Even the ruins, where vegetation had reclaimed its rightful place, seemed to vanish at the slightest touch. Neither side was losing ground. Yet these dragon-like creatures numbered no more than a dozen members, not even fully grown, whereas the informed silhouettes numbered around a hundred.

[ It's all nonsense. You've learned nothing from our ordeal as slaves. ]

Thought the black silhouette, the hybrid. It looked so dark and dreary, contrasting with the dazzling majesty possessed by dragons. Their scales seemed as indestructible as their will as they wreaked havoc with flame, acid and ice. Just like their creators. They were the exact opposite of the motionless humans they trampled like ants, unaware of their existence. After all, who could boast of knowing exactly how many insects he'd crushed in his life, and when?

[ If only these clashes were only the beginning of everything... ]

continued the hybrid, continuing his intrepid march towards the most wretched of dragons, which nonetheless seemed to be destroying the landscape around him even more effectively, without even using magic.

All this was, indeed, far from the beginning. It was only the conclusion of the first act on this planet, Earth. All this was not the cause of mysterious portals leading to other universes, or the unexplained appearance of dungeons and magic in the world, far from it. The very idea that this was possible had been rejected centuries ago.

These clashes were caused by the fear of shapeless, god-like creatures, so perfect was their mastery of this world. The fear of once again being enslaved by something far more terrifying than themselves. The fear that had driven them to betray their friends despite certain victory. The fear that drove them to create the immense, majestic creatures that were dragons. The fear that their magic would once again be insufficient.

In the midst of this chaos, only the hybrid's solitary whisper echoed in his lifeless environment, where everything was decomposing. He was now facing the only scale-less dragon in existence, yet he easily allowed himself to speak instead of confronting it fully.

"We're right... and yet... making the mistake of believing Reiner might have been our redemption. Now we're on a path from which we cannot return. All for the sake of saving them all, even if we have to kill those same saviors with our own hands in order to preserve their species, and save them from suffering the same fate as ours."

His body had no openings, no eyes. Yet he seemed to be staring at his scars. He continued his destructive advance in the hope of driving back his opponent, while the ruins and earth all around him crumbled like a house of cards at the slightest repercussion of the clashes he delivered against his imposing adversary.