The World of Avatars

It is the Age of Revelation. A age where things are illuminated to what truly is. Where magic, gods and monsters prowl the streets. A time where humanity hides behind closed doors and paranoia. Relying on the brave media, word of mouth and their own heart and judgement for guidance and information. A time where champions, called Avatars, are chosen from either Heaven, the place of holiness, to Hell the home of Evil, to the Abyss the home of the Destructive and the Far Realms the place of madness. To the Elysian Fields the place of Fey. The Arborean Wildlands, home of the Wilds. And Mecha, the home of law. The four elemental planes, Earth, Water, Air and Fire. The Negative Energy plane, Hades,is the home of the undead.

On Earth, somewhere in Japan, a woman radiates sunlight, she has a mask of an old man, rays of radiance juts off the sides. She is wearing a shrine priestesses robes and has a mace seemingly made of holy white radiance.

In Africa, a child in wizards robes is surrounded by ants and bees. While it may seem to an outsider it looks like chaos. It is not. The insects seem to work in tandem with each other like clockwork. They never stop building statues and buildings. Each honoring figures of law and order.

In another corner of the world. Gigantic beetles were being fitted with armor and weapons by smaller beetle drones. A man with a stag beetle helm looks on as the sky turns crimson in a crescent valley. His green cape billowing in the wind.

In another part of the world. Their were humanoid ants writing scripture upon scripture in a ancient library. On the second floor a man with an ants head looks onto a giant astrolabe sprawled across the table. Shadowy apparitions march across the surfaces. These Insect Lords are preparing for war.

In the stormy skies somewhere, their is a man on top of a mountain. Predatory birds and flying demons flock around him, preying on each other. He stands their in unholy glory. A bloody dagger in his hand which he is sharpening with an gory knife. He hums a song akin to a songbird, but it sounds like the screams of torture. Behind him their stands a temple with two statues flanking it. One of a seductress with a spear, the other the man with a pair of daggers.

Somewhere in the desert nights of Abel before a red moon, there stands a horde of monsters. And before them they bowed to a bi-gendered creature. It had the head of a wolf, the wings of a eagle. And the body of a pregnant woman. It had two kukris as weapons. One was flaming red the other covered in frost rime.It looks to the dark night sky. And it howls. Right to the moon crimson.

Balthazar never wanted kids. After his family was murdered, he grew up sitting at home. Yet he never realized even to himself, he wanted the worst. He wanted to be loathsome and pathetic. He wanted to kill. And as Good arranged for him to go to the Heavenly Realms. And as he reached for heaven, was denied what he thought was his. No one wanted him, but that's what he truly wanted in the end. Good made a bet with Evil, that even a person like Balthazar can redeem himself. A person who was wallowing in self-pity. For Good knows what he truly was thinking. And granted him his darkest wish. She sent him to the Hellish Plane of Hades. As per the bet with Evil. In the hopes he would use his powers for good. And as Evil bound him within a suit of armor. As he raised from the dead, Balthazar's tortured grey corpse. Balthazar the Foul's eyes opened an unholy yellow. And he screamed in his inner self.At the world. At Good. At Evil. At everything in existence. As his armored hands grew blades. He felt apathy. Sloth has returned.

Meanwhile in the Heavens. Earl stands their naked in a dark lit room. The blue light coming from the computers, attaching their wires to Earl's body. White feather wings occasionally flap from his back, his claw like fingers unclench and clench in a rhythm. This demon is being reprogrammed bits of himself is being systematically restored and purified.

The call for the Divine Beasts rings out as Good awakens.

Meanwhile in another part of Heaven. A man stirs from his sleep. His body in a toga. And he pauses as he hears a sound. A beautiful sound that is silent but is almost palpable and discernible only to him. He listens and then concentrating for a moments, sprouts six sets of wings. An lions head on his right shoulder. A lambs head on his left. And he flies off to the material plane. A battle has started brewing

Meanwhile in the plane of dreams. A man sits meditating. His body contorted in weird angles. And his clothing a strange bodysuit of indeterminate origin. Around him a sea of colorful aether, made of color that cannot be imagined or described. He sits their, but then he hears something. A call to action, though invisible and silent. Was as loud as a lions roar. Only the instinct of a madman was he able to determine what the call meant. And he jump up. His hands turn into claws. His back grows tentacles. He morphs six ruby red eyes. His body size and musculature increases to that of something inhuman ,into that of a creature that can only exist from a humans imagination. A dream run rampant is now unleashed.

In the plane of spirits, a wizened young man in tattered monks clothing also hears the call. He hears the call and turns into a beast. A flying monster, with a deers head. A great Oxen's body. Furry bird like wings. And a tigers tail. He too flies off. To the song of the material plane.