Chapter 3: The Birth of Imperfection
After the formation of the Crucible Accord and the creation of the infinite realms within the Ethereal Void, there was an unsettling silence. The Sovereigns, beings beyond any imaginable power—beings forged from the Crystals of Creation—had breathed life into existence itself. Their collective will had shaped galaxies, birthed stars, and sculpted worlds from the fabric of nothingness.
The Firstborn, the perfect children of the Sovereigns, stood as pillars of omnipotence, untouched by time, and beyond the scope of mortality. They wielded energies that made the very cosmos tremble, but there was a growing restlessness among them. A sense of something missing.
The Sovereigns had made their creations perfect, untouched by the whims of mortality. But in the pristine perfection of their design, there was no room for growth. No room for chaos.
They knew that to craft something truly alive, to forge a world that could evolve, change, and break free of rigid divine control, they would need to create something imperfect—mortal beings, creatures bound by time, limited by mortality, but unstoppable in their will to transcend.
The Sovereigns were hesitant at first. Mortals, by their nature, could never hope to rival the power of the Firstborn, nor could they maintain the delicate balance of the universe as the Sovereigns had done. And yet, something about them stirred the Sovereigns' eternal minds—potential.
Thus, they chose to breathe life into a new kind of being—one not of perfection but of possibility. The first Mortal Plane was born, a realm of boundless possibility where flawed beings could live, struggle, grow, and—perhaps—surpass even the divine.
These mortals were not like the divine or the Firstborn. They were bound by time, fragile and imperfect, but capable of a unique power—change. The essence of their existence was not bound by the unyielding perfection of the Sovereigns' will, but by their choices. They could evolve, adapt, and grow beyond their limitations. But there was a cost. They were fragile, destined to die, to break, and to be reborn.
The Seed of Rebellion
The Sovereigns knew the risks. To allow such beings into existence was to gamble with the very stability of creation itself. But they also saw a unique beauty in this gamble. For, in time, they believed the mortals would become the perfect agents of change. The Firstborn were perfect, but perfection is static. Mortals, in all their frailty, were capable of evolution.
However, things didn't unfold as expected.
As soon as the first mortals began to awaken and perceive their world, something remarkable happened. These fragile beings, weak in the eyes of the Sovereigns, began to push against their boundaries. They yearned for more—more power, more knowledge, more control. The very essence of being mortal, with its limits, instilled in them a ferocity that even the Firstborn could not predict.
The first Ascendant appeared—not by divine will or creation but through sheer force of will. This being, unlike any other mortal, was born with the ability to shape reality itself. Through their will, they could command the fundamental energies of existence, changing the very nature of the universe around them.
The Ascendants quickly became known as the Lords of Change. They were mortals who, through sheer force, managed to shape the fabric of the realms—by unlocking the Cosmic Essence, an untapped force within them, connected to all that exists beyond time, beyond life. These beings were capable of wielding power equal to that of the Sovereigns themselves, yet they were mortal. They could die, but they could also ascend beyond their mortality if they mastered the forces of existence.
The Sovereigns watched with both awe and fear. The Ascendants were not meant to be. Their very existence, born of pure defiance, was an affront to the order of the universe. The balance was shifting.
The First Division
What followed was the First Division within the Sovereigns themselves. While some saw the Ascendants as the next step in evolution, others feared that these beings—these mortal rebels—could shatter the delicate balance the Sovereigns had crafted.
The first to dissent was Azrael, the Sovereign of the Void. He saw the Ascendants not as a threat, but as the next stage of cosmic evolution. He understood that for creation to thrive, there needed to be change, growth, and imperfection. In the Ascendants, he saw potential—potential to challenge even the Crucible Accord itself and reshape existence. Azrael's vision was one of evolution, where the divine and mortal worlds would coexist, each growing and adapting through struggle.
However, Maliel, the Sovereign of Eternity, could not accept this. She feared the Ascendants were a corruption, a flaw that would erode the imperfectionless nature of the divine realms. Mortals, she believed, could never be allowed to wield powers on the level of the Sovereigns. Their existence could only bring chaos.
Thus, the First War began—not of armies, but of ideas. The Sovereigns divided into two factions: those who supported the rise of the Ascendants, led by Azrael, and those who opposed them, led by Maliel. Each side fought not with weapons, but with their wills—shaping realms, manipulating time, and distorting the very fabric of existence itself.
The war, though cosmic and intangible, had consequences. Entire worlds were rewritten, entire species erased or replaced with others, just as the Sovereigns sought to reshape the realities they had created. The Firstborn, who had once been united in perfection, were now divided, each following one of the Sovereigns. The result was an ever-shifting, chaotic realm.
The Pact of Shadows
The war reached a stalemate. The Sovereigns, despite their power, could not destroy each other. Their wills clashed, and the world they had built began to fracture. Creation itself trembled under the strain. It was then that the Pact of Shadows was forged—a treaty between the two factions of Sovereigns.
The Pact decreed that the Mortal Realms would remain untouched by the Sovereigns, but the Ascendants would not be permitted to transcend beyond their mortal state without the approval of the Crucible Accord. The Ascendants were to remain within their boundaries, yet free to continue evolving, challenging the divine, and growing in power.
Yet, the Pact did not heal the rift. The forces of change and perfection would forever be at odds, and the realms would continue to exist in a fragile balance—held together by the will of the Sovereigns but constantly shifting under the influence of the Ascendants.