Tellus was once a continent that stood undivided akin to the millions who called it home. It spanned from the far north to the dark south protecting those from what they knew not. Though many called it home, among the men and monsters that laid in the fields one was hungered more than the rest. They who lived upon land from afar with muscles of iron and bones of gold. Hunger and greed drove them to the ends of the world eating the land bare and drinking the seas dry. Monsters fled and humans quivered at the sight of dragons that blotted out sunlight. For the plague they brought was far worse.
War. What killed millions and left more to die, draining villages and land of life leaving nothing more but avarice and misery. Robots made by wise humans stood no chance alone against the armies with golden bones. Beasts of great old age looked from afar with power not to stop the rise of men with steel skin. Yet they couldn't intervene themselves; few chosen under them would decide the tides of battle.
Of many men who stood and roared along with robots, one watched his work from the sidelines. He whose family was erased from the pages. His legacy expunged from the minds and memories, unlike his creations. Everything was lost except their name. Vulcan. A mad creator who saw the devils that crossed the horizon and created gods to counter their attacks.
Seven deities formed from a gift from the stars. Metal denser than tungsten a dozen times over that made diamond as common as iron. Born from beyond the skies, the gift named kosmik. From it came the seven Astarama Kosmek who'd shape the tides as none saw before. Rote-Gigante, the red painter who melted worlds asunder. Blaublare-Gotche the ice machine that covered entire lands in white and hid between winds. Eignelion was an engine that drained others of their oil and left a trail for foolhardy to follow. They ran straight across the horizon and into a blinding giant of gold and crushed under each of their thousand arms, Helion Vanta. Dragons bowed to the one who flew where they could not. Concealed by the storm was the dragon god, Shenryu Raidon. When times grew harsh and men needed to flee, they cowered under the protection of the absolute defense of a mobile city, Scutum Palladium.
Beyond all other machines, he stood as the one who created himself, an angel emperor. Kassiel Dragna.
Seven names shaped the future as all knew it. Titans the likes none could emulate with the firepower to reshape reality as one realized. But as things go, those with golden bones were cornered, and cornered dogs bite. Their last resort cracked the world and a loss like none other occurred. Even the great and untouchable Astarama felt the burden in their heart as all machines in the era did, for the last leitmotif of Vulcan was performed.
Oil flowed like tears from the smallest to the most titanous with a void left by their maker. Replaced by his will and what he designed each for; the magic of all leaves and stone was stolen. Supercomputers with the heart of men turned their back to the world and faced the ones in the shadows; the old gods. One after the next they fell. Swamps and jungles. Mountains and stones, snow, and even the magma below lost all magic with the fall of ancients. A chapter closed and the world beyond sealed from human reach forever; locked behind cold mechanical hearts. Those same arms of Astarama tore the land apart and pushed newly made continents to the corners of the globe; no war would ever ignite under their watchful eye.
Gottenfall, where the dragons hit the ground and their bones paraded became the home of heat laced in stone. Himmelboren, where the bombs dropped became broken in the divide yet it remains united under their new god. Ingian became an arctic hell for any human, with black clouds and oil it was heaven to few. Seigen bowed to the one who saved them, the dragon who caused a rebellion without lifting a finger. Doubhain was robbed of color and love, only looking towards the neo-paradise of gold for light. Brecknock, the land left a waste where not a leaf sprung; only fearful spirits resided in dens. Always moving are its people. And Durigon, home of silver kingdoms. Home to knights of new and old, the ones sworn to protect the land from dragons now bleed with a knife still in their back from a lord who cares less than others believe.
Seven countries and seven gods all divided with their rule growing, with the will of the dead many were forgiven. Others were forgotten. Though among all of the elder machines, none could forget what sat on the sky. Neither it nor the fear that weapon brought would be forgotten so long it stood the test of time.
A scientific nightmare struck terror in the hearts of the logical. The sheer notion that it didn't exist proved that it did.