Above the azure skies, six suns hung across the horizon, while clouds filled the Nine Heavens, covering countless islands floating in mid-air.
In Ancient Times, after cataclysms tore apart the Veythoria Great World, the land fragmented into 7 continents home to the myriad race
Amidst the very center of the World lies the Endless sea, a treacherous pit housing several Eldritch entities of old legends.
A pale grey Sphere tinted with some brown revolved at the sea's depths, its vague silhouette floating amidst the sea of mists, casting an eerie and mysterious glow towards the horizon, a single Ash moon nurturing countless sea dwellers
Every thousand years, the Ash Moon would emit a beam of Spiritual Light, stirring monstrous waves all over the Endless sea and the emergence an astonishing amount of rich mana and spiritual plants capable of instantly turning a normal person into a divine
Upon hearing about the moon's mysteries, several top powerhouses from the myriad races ventured forth to seek out the sphere, attempting to uncover it's mysteries and advance in their realm, but alas despite their extraordinary power, their effort proved useless for no matter how deep their went, space folded upon itself infinitely, making the Ash moon a hairs breath away unreachable
Due to their reckless approach..an old Eldritch horror hibernating at the sea's depths way awaken and a massacre ensued where less that 10 percent of those experts managed to escape
A quiet hospital room bathed in the soft glow of dawn. The air is thick with anticipation—monitors beep steadily, nurses move with practiced calm, and a mother grips the sheets, sweat glistening on her forehead, her partner, a tall and handsome man stands beside her, murmuring encouragement.
Moments later, with one final, shuddering push, the first tiny, slick body slips into the world—followed swiftly by another, and then, impossibly, a third.
For a breathless instant, there is silence—three small forms still, blue-tinged, suspended between two existences. Then—
A gasp!!!
Followed by another!!!
And another!!!
One by one, their lungs inflate, and the room erupts in sound—a chorus of sharp, indignant cries that declare, We are here.
The doctor lifts the first baby, still tethered by the pulsing umbilical cord, and places the squirming child onto the mother's chest. Then the second, then the third—each tiny body radiating warmth and life, their limbs jerking in protest against the cold new world.
Skin to skin, their cries soften into hiccups.
Tiny fingers curl reflexively against their mother's warmth, seeking the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Her hands, trembling, shift between them—cradling one damp head, then another, then the last—each life so fragile, so fierce.
Their eyes, swollen and unfocused, blink against the unfamiliar brightness.
A nurse leans in, grinning. "You've got your hands full, 3 adorable boys."
The father reaches down, brushing a knuckle against one tiny foot—so small it barely spans his thumb.
The infant's toes splay in response, a primal instinct, a grasp at connection. Nearby, another yawns wide, while the third lets out a reedy sigh, already dreaming.
The room hums with movement, with joy, with the electric thrill of beginnings—three new voices, three new stories, all tangled together from the very first breath.
Outside, the sun rises. Somewhere, a clock ticks, marking the first minute of a life that will unfold in ways no one can predict.
But for now, there is only this: the weight of the baby, the scent of salt and blood, the overwhelming, wordless love that floods the room.
The children knew nothing yet—not its name, not the shape of its future, not the joys or sorrows waiting beyond this moment.
But it knows warmth. It knows safety. It knows, in some deep, instinctive way, that it is not alone.
And so 3 new life's were born, another tale to be told... Follow for more and witness the extraordinary
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The nursery is a battlefield of onesies, pacifiers, and the ever-present scent of baby powder.
Three cribs sit side by side, each occupied by a squirming, red-faced boy Nicholas, Lucien, and Julien who have somehow synchronized their cries into a deafening chorus.
Their mother, Anna, moves like a sleep-deprived ninja—bottle in one hand, burp cloth in the other—darting between cribs.
"Okay, okay, I've got you," she murmurs, scooping up Julien first.
His wails soften into indignant hiccups as he latches onto the bottle.
Lucien, not to be outdone, kicks his feet furiously until Dad—Elias—lifts him with a groan.
"You're gonna be the troublemaker, aren't you?" he teases, bouncing him gently.
Lucien responds by yanking James' glasses off with a surprisingly strong grip.
Nicholas, the "quiet" one watches his brothers with wide eyes before erupting into his own demand for attention.
Sarah laughs, exhausted but glowing. "Teamwork, huh?"
-----
At two years old, the triplets have perfected the art of "silent mischief"
Sarah turns her back for three seconds—just long enough to pour coffee—and suddenly, the kitchen is too quiet.
She spins around to find:
- Julien, standing triumphantly on a chair, cookie jar pried open, crumbs already smeared across his cheeks.
- Lucien, mid-sprint, a stolen graham cracker clutched in his fist, giggling like a tiny criminal.
- Nicholas, the "lookout," pressing a chubby finger to his lips. "Shhhh!"
James walks in just as the operation collapses into a giggling pile of toddler limbs. "Are we raising babies or a gang of snack bandits?" he asks, scooping up the still sprinting Lucien before he can escape.
---
At six, their energy is unstoppable, The backyard is their kingdom—a wild landscape of stick-swords, overturned buckets (fortresses, obviously), and a sandbox that hasn't seen actual sand in weeks (it's lava now).
Lucien, the self-appointed "leader", brandishes a pool noodle. "CHARGE!" he yells, and all three boys sprint toward the slide-turned-enemy-castle.
Julien "dies" dramatically halfway there after being hit by a flying tomato, clutching his chest. "Avenge me, brothers!" he gasps, then immediately springs back to life when Nicholas tosses a handful of grass (a magic resurrection spell, duh).
Anna watches from the porch, shaking her head as James nudges her. "Remember when we thought one baby would be hard?"
At eleven, they've traded , but the chaos remains.
The backyard still thesame dispute the years, filled with unmatched chaos
Nicholas, the quite one was buried in a book titled "Mysteries of Veythoria
Lucien with 2 blunted wooden short swords in hand and Julien who was equiped with a long pole where busy fighting, against each other, though it was mostly Lucien who dominated the fight and managed to
"Too weak, too slow " he taunted, dodging and blocking several attacks from Julien with minimal effort till he spotted an opening and managed sweeping Julien off his feet's, sitting on his back with a triumphant pose
Ten minutes later, they're shouting over pixelated rainbow roads, elbows jabbing for controller dominance. Their mother Anna yells upstairs: "DINNER is ready!!"
Three voices reply in unison: **"FIVE MORE MINUTES!"**
Elias sighs. "They're lucky they're cute."