Long ago, before the worlds splintered into chaos, there was a prophecy etched in the ruins of an ancient civilization—words that have since been lost to time:
"When the threads of time fray and the veil of existence is torn, three souls shall arise. One from the past, one from the void, and one to rewrite the present. Together, they shall either mend the fabric of destiny or unravel it entirely."
In the vast expanse of a dying world, a figure stood alone beneath a fractured sky. Lightning tore through the heavens, illuminating the jagged peaks in the distance. The air shimmered unnaturally, as if reality itself were cracking under the weight of unseen forces.
This was a place where time folded upon itself, where echoes of the past whispered secrets to those who dared to listen. And here, within these forsaken lands, the paths of three extraordinary beings had begun to intertwine—though none of them knew it yet.
The Returnee, hardened by battles beyond comprehension, carried the weight of a war they could never escape. Their return to the world they once called home was not a triumph, but a curse—a haunting reminder of the horrors they survived.
The Reincarnator, armed with the memories of countless lifetimes, was plagued by the paradox of knowing too much yet having too little power to shape their fate. The cycle of rebirth had become a torment, each life more fragile than the last.
The Regressor, marked by their unrelenting determination, bore the scars of countless failures. Each attempt to rewrite the future was a knife twisting deeper into their soul, yet they refused to give up—even as the cost grew unbearable.
Their fates were bound, though they would never meet as three. Only fleeting encounters, whispers of each other's existence, and the ripples left behind in the fabric of reality would tell their story.
But this story was not theirs alone.
In the shadows of their struggles, unseen eyes watched, scheming and plotting. Villains born of broken worlds, driven by hatred, ambition, and fear, saw in these three not saviors, but threats to be eliminated—or tools to be used. Manipulative minds laid traps within traps, shaping a stage where the protagonists would become pawns in a game far greater than themselves.
And so, the Threefold Path began.
As the ruins of the ancient prophecy crumbled into dust, a single line remained legible, carved deep into stone:
"Three paths diverge, yet converge in shadow. Will they weave salvation—or sever the threads of existence?"