Long ago—before time had meaning and before the stars had names—the cosmos slumbered in harmony. Peace draped the universe like a warm, eternal blanket. At its center existed a divine being: a god unlike any other. With infinite wisdom and boundless compassion, he crafted existence from nothing, breathing life into the void.
But he was not alone.
Beside him stood radiant beings of light—angels—vessels of his will, guardians of creation.
And yet, even in perfection, a flaw was born.
This god, in all his love, desired more than loyal servants. He yearned for creation with choice—beings with the freedom to choose right or wrong. Creatures who could feel joy, pain, sorrow... and love. And so began the Great Work.
From divine thought and celestial breath, Earth was shaped. Endless skies, roaring oceans, wild forests—life bloomed under his gaze. But where light shines brightest, shadows are never far behind.
Among the angels, one began to question.
He had once been a blazing star, beautiful beyond words, powerful beyond compare. But in his heart, pride took root. He doubted the god's wisdom, his plan, his trust in fragile mortals. His name? Satan.
He didn't seek to protect. He sought to rule.
"Why should we serve?" he whispered. "Why gift free will to the weak while we remain bound?"
And others listened.
A rift split Heaven. Unity turned to unrest. Some angels stood firm in loyalty. Others craved change... craved power. Whispers became defiance. And from defiance, war was born.
Heaven shook.
With hearts ablaze and wings torn by betrayal, angels clashed in the skies. Satan, now a vessel of the Seven Vices—Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Pride, and Envy—led the rebellion. The loyal stood tall, wielding the Seven Godly Traits: Wisdom, Kindness, Willpower, Justice, Fearlessness, Creativity, and Faith.
But the war could not last forever.
The god, weeping for his fallen children, summoned the Flame of Infinity—a sacred fire that burned not flesh, but spirit. With sorrow, he cast Satan and his kin into it.
Yet even divine fire could not erase evil.
Satan survived, twisted and monstrous. To preserve balance, the god divided his realm. One half remained Heaven. The other, scorched and cursed, became Hell.
Time moved forward.
Two gates were born: the Gate of Heaven and the Gate of Hell. And when humanity emerged, each soul carried the choice to listen—to the divine... or the damned.
But Satan had not finished.
In secret, he wove a curse. A final strike—one strong enough to sever Heaven's Gate forever. And in the last battle, he cast it.
The god, watching his creation slip into ruin, made one final sacrifice.
He tore his own heart from his chest—his essence—and hurled it to Earth.
It shattered.
Seven fragments scattered across the world, embedding themselves in seven human souls. These became the Seven Godly Traits, the last flickers of divine hope.
And so, a new story began.
Not of gods. Not of angels.
But of humans.
---
Ever since I was a kid, I had those dreams.
Night after night, I was dragged into a world of shadow and fire. Demons whispered in tongues I couldn't understand. I ran. I hid. I survived. I didn't know why I was there—only that it was real. Too real.
By day, I was just another quiet kid, zoning out in class. I stared at the board, but my mind stayed trapped in that other world. Every sound, every smell—it haunted me. People called me a daydreamer. Said I had my head in the clouds.
But they were wrong.
I wasn't dreaming. I was remembering.
At first, I talked about it. Told classmates about the monsters, the skies that bled red. They laughed. Called me crazy. A liar. A freak. The bullying came fast after that.
They shoved me. Mocked me. Ignored me.
But honestly? I didn't care. Because no matter what they did, nothing compared to the terror I faced each night. While they worried about homework, I was fighting to stay alive in my sleep.
My grades tanked. Teachers gave up. My parents were lost. I tried to fake it—to be normal. I studied. I smiled. I tried to care.
I failed. Again and again.
But I didn't quit.
Every time I fell, I clawed my way back up. It was slow. Painful. But after years, I finally became... average. Not the best. Not the worst. Just a kid who could keep going.
And I was proud of that.
Still, every night before sleep, I wondered: Why is this still happening? Why does it feel more real than the world I wake up to?
And then one day, I got my answer.
This wasn't a dream.
It never was.
It was real.