Almost four centuries ago, all the worlds experienced a massive earthquake. It was so ferocious and destructive that it would have been a miracle if even half of humanity had survived.
Yet, everyone did survive, with not a single damage occurring to their belongings or surroundings. It was clearly divine protection.
However, it was soon discovered that one of the seven worlds had been destroyed.
Now, only six remained.
One of the gods was directly responsible for destroying that world. There were suspected to be other accomplices too. Mainly, the twin deities of retribution.
The news spread like wildfire. It was bizarre. It was terrifying. It was exciting. Soon enough, everyone knew it.
Before long, no one could say what the real story was, as it was spun into many tales, with everyone believing their own version.
But one thing remained constant: the central gods in this story would not be easily forgotten by anyone.
Nearly three centuries later, the worlds began to experience very odd changes that seemed destined to become permanent. These changes were either good or bad, but they ultimately became the new normal for the people of the present.
The sun grew dimmer.
Fireflies began to dance in the twilight.
Children, once safeguarded by celestial hands, now found themselves more vulnerable to injury.
Yet, the lands grew more crowded. Animals grew restless on a particular day each year.
The weather turned more volatile.
Then, a sudden whisper spread through the heavens and across the worlds they governed: Two of the central figures in the tale of the seventh world's destruction had perished.
And the very god responsible for the calamity had somehow disappeared.
Naturally, stories emerged. Plays were staged. Books were published. Tales were passed down, and many storytellers attained near-celebrity status.
Among those storytellers was Genevieve Merindol, who had her own tales to share—everyone had their own take on these stories. So did she.
But somehow, hers were always particularly jarring, controversial, and refreshingly new.