I stepped out of the Gate of Worlds, and immediately I was engulfed by a glow unlike anything I had ever known. The sky here wasn't blue, but a blend of deep crimson and orange, as if painted with unquenchable fire. The air was heavy, saturated with the scent of sulfur and molten metal. The ground beneath my feet wasn't soil, but black rocks that pulsed with an inner heat, as if I were walking on the heart of a living creature.
The heat was unbearable at first, but soon the shadows cloaked my body as if forming a thermal shield. Before me rose the walls of a colossal city known as Valimora, the capital of the world of Ifesto. It wasn't built of stone, but of polished volcanic rock, glowing at times as if a burning core resided within. Its gates towered above, inscribed with glyphs I couldn't understand, yet the feeling they gave off was unmistakable: this is a world that shows no mercy to outsiders.
Ifesto is unlike any other world. There are no trees here, no rivers, no seas. The plains are made of lava, and volcanoes are scattered like pillars of wrath erupting from the earth's core. Nothing grows here except black plants, with deep roots and thick leaves that absorb sunlight like air. There is no fertile land, no life as we know it.
And in this hell, the giants live—especially a rare species known as the Kakino Matti. Massive beasts, rarely seen, but when they appear, they bring destruction in their wake. It is said their eyes resemble rubies, glowing in the dark and terrifying even the bravest warriors. Some walk on all fours, others like humans, but nothing defines them more than their glowing red eyes—eyes said to show death to any who stare too long.
As for the inhabitants of this world, they are the Dragonkin. They resemble humans only in form—half-human, half-reptile. Each has a long tail and slit-pupil eyes colored with gold and flame. Some bear great wings, others horns jutting from their foreheads or the back of their skulls, covered in hardened scales. Their necks and cheeks are armored with plates that sometimes boil when angered. They can shift into dragons or massive reptilian beasts—that is their latent power.
But their source of nourishment... wasn't food. It was the sun.
The sun in Ifesto isn't just a star that shines. It's a magical energy that feeds their bodies. When it blazes, their veins glow like fiery pathways. Hunger doesn't threaten them—clouds do. When the sun disappears, they weaken.
I approached the streets of Valimora cautiously, trying not to draw attention. It was clear that mingling with the locals would be a disaster. Humans rarely visit this world, and if they do, they are either traders protected by higher entities... or assassins sent through the gates.
So I decided to stay in the shadows.
I slipped from alley to alley, listening, watching, breathing in the strangeness around me. And over time, I began to notice something I hadn't expected... Valimora, despite its grandeur, was sick.
People walked hunched over, pale-faced, their bodies looking as if the sun hadn't touched them in days. Many coughed, some walked on crutches, and others wore metallic masks over their mouths as if the very air was toxic. None of the strength or pride I had expected from the Dragonkin was present.
Something was wrong.
Even the soldiers, who looked healthier than the rest, had eyes full of worry. I saw one of them collapse during his watch in front of an important building. No one moved to help. Silence reigned, and then they dragged him inside without a word.
I kept walking, looking for an explanation, for the reason behind this decline.
And then, I looked toward the end of the city... toward the ruling palace.
It stood tall amidst a lake of lava, connected to the city by a bridge of black rock paved with glowing red stones. Its gate was enormous, engraved with the image of a dragon emerging from a volcano. Here lived Erbto.
Erbto... was more than just a ruler—he was a symbol. An old follower of Tairo, leader of the High Entities. It's said he never betrayed Tairo and was one of his most loyal warriors. His weapon? Massive metal gauntlets, engraved with runes of quakes and magma. These were no ordinary gloves—they held a volcanic core capable of creating seismic waves that could tear the earth apart, unleashing lava like a hellish waterfall.
According to legend, a single strike from those gauntlets... could destroy an entire continent.
And for the first time, I felt that approaching him would be a danger beyond imagination. This was not Castor. This was something else.
But I wasn't here to challenge him... not yet.
I stood at the edge of an alley, watching the palace from afar. The shadows around me began to shiver. The ground itself gave off a soft moan, as if something deep beneath was stirring. Or perhaps... awakening.
I looked behind me, feeling movement.
Something unnatural was happening here.
And I had to find out... before something—or someone—found me.