"For five centuries I have perdured these lands in hope of finding the final piece of the puzzle that will liberate me through this hell."

"The time has finally come, you are the last one that remains, Chronosoul."

The air was filled with tension and uneasiness as a thousand soldiers waited for the response of the man's words.

The sky was dark, void of both clouds and stars! The cold breeze brushed passed along the face of the man who dared to fight the reverant, Chronosoul.

During the Celestial Cataclysm the God of Time had fell to the hands of those who envied him. With him the nation of Scryvale was left in ruins, his people were killed, ruined, sold, used and were subjected to slavery.

The once most powerful nation fell in just a fortnight.

But there was one person who could not tolerate it, he set out on the journey to destroy the Gods and their principles.

That was his story, the man who stood in front of the reverant, ignorant of who he truly was!

Two millennia had passed since the Cataclysm, Eonspire had once more become the continent which it once was, at peace.

Chronosoul's eyes slowly opened, his eyes held no emotions, they mimicked the void.

He gently lifted his hand, pointing its palm to the heavens. The empty space was no longer there as the sky had once again showed its mighty vastness.

There were stars, taking existence from nothing. They kept getting bigger and brighter, and before anyone realised what had happened, everything went black.

A few thousand miles away, in the kingdom of Nightsveil, an exiled consort, Celestine Avernight, knew what was happening.

The seven worldly saints had woken up once again, and an army of the ten godkins had departed from The Apex Citadel.

The world of Eonspire was once again filled with dread and fear that it had encountered during The Celestial Cataclysm.