Before the first dawn kissed the earth and men learned to name the gods, all was emptiness—a sea of lifeless shadows where time had neither form nor voice.

Then, from the void, three eternal wills were born—entities without beginning or end:

Uk'ux Ulew, the Heart of the Earth, who, with his breath, shaped the valleys and raised the mountains, carved the rivers, and sowed life in his fertile womb.

Uk'ux Kaj, the Heart of the Sky, who spread the mantle of the stars and set the winds in motion, calling forth the storm and the calm in his infinite dance.

Uk'ux Q'ij, the Heart of the Sun, who brought light—the sacred fire that would illuminate the fate of gods and men. With his burning essence, he created time, set the cycles in motion, and infused the first spark of existence with his warmth.

Together, these three shaped the world and saw that their work was magnificent. But they also understood that, to preserve it, they would need guardians—younger wills to rise as protectors of creation.

Thus, the gods were born.

Among them, two stood out as the perfect reflection of celestial harmony:

Kinich, the Eternal Sun, the son of the primordial fire, god of light and protection, the one who guided both men and gods with his unwavering radiance.

Ix Chel, the Weaver of Fate, goddess of the moon and the cycles of life, who, with delicate hands, wove the threads of destiny, love, and death.

From the dawn of time, they sought and found each other, and their love was the song that embraced the heavens. Where their light reached, the kingdoms of men flourished, and their nights were silvered and filled with peaceful dreams.

But in creation, where there is light, shadow lurks. And among the gods, a forbidden desire arose—an insatiable hunger that even death could not contain.

His name was Xibal'Kan, the Lord of the Underworld.

His reign lay in the bowels of the earth, where spirits crawled and darkness had no end. But his ambition knew no bounds. Ruling death was not enough—he wanted all of creation. And he wanted her.

It was in the Era of the Divine Conquest that war arose. Xibal'Kan, with a tongue as sharp as obsidian, sowed discord in the hearts of the lesser gods:

"Kinich believes himself the master of the sky, but… does his light not blind you? Does his fire not burn? I offer you balance. I will give you a place where your will shall not be bound."

One by one, the gods wavered. One by one, they fell into his web.

The sky turned red when the first rose in arms. The sea boiled, the earth was torn asunder, and men, who once walked assured under the blessing of their gods, became ash and bone beneath the fury of war.

But Kinich did not waver. He did not fear.

Clad in the light of the rising sun, he descended to the land of men, and with his fire, he marked the battlefields. With every step he took, the shadows retreated. With every strike, the night shattered.

Xibal'Kan could not stop him. He feared him, hated him… but he knew that open war would only bring his downfall. So he used the one weapon Kinich could not defeat: betrayal.

With poisoned words, he promised a truce. He claimed he longed for peace, that his kingdom could not be sustained by the destruction of life. And in his great compassion, Kinich listened.

And when he extended his hand…

…the dagger pierced his chest.

A precise strike. A mortal wound.

Kinich's light faltered. His fire dimmed.

From above, Ix Chel screamed his name as the sun plummeted to the earth. But no cry of love can save the dead.

And in his final breaths, as his burning blood rained like fire upon humanity, Kinich lifted his gaze and left one last warning:

"Your reign shall not be eternal… When the sun burns at midnight and the moon weeps blood, I shall return. And when I awaken… no god, no shadow shall escape my judgment."

Then, his body turned to ashes, and with his death, the era of the gods came to an end.

Xibal'Kan claimed the sky and the earth. The cities of men bowed before the shadow. Their temples were defiled with sacrifices in his name. And the moon, once shining with the sun's light, was chained to the heavens, condemned to wander without ever touching her beloved again.

Darkness reigned, but Kinich's promise was never forgotten.

The stars, silent witnesses to the betrayal, still whispered his name.

The ashes of his fire still pulsed in the depths of the earth.

And in the hearts of men, the echo of his vow endured.

An age had ended. Another awaited its rebirth.

Countless cycles passed. The gods fell silent. Men forgot.

But in a corner of the world, among misery and ruin, a child was born under an impossible omen—the sun burned at midnight, and the moon wept blood upon the earth.

Fire did not run through his veins, but his dreams were full of flames.

Light did not shine in his chest, but his soul remembered eternity.

He was a child like any other.

He was a child who did not remember who he was.

But when the shadow raised its face once more…

Kinich would be reborn.

And this time, there would be no mercy.