Curse

In a world that is defined by power, Lance stands out as the only enigma-nap, with no visible aim and a razor-sharp tongue. This lazy, sharp-tongued orphan, however, hides under the indifferent face a very sharp mind and single terrifying thought: 'Can I become a god?' He transforms that rather weird obsession into an obstinate path for becoming the controller of the very texture of society. Thus, in walking such cunning schemes, he really very well plans the things in a manner that all those who will be caught in the web don't know how they got entrapped. Ranging from the shadowy syndicates to ancient bloodlines vying for supremacy, everyone is just another piece on his board. Evelyn, heiress to a legacy now crumbling, has her own fights. Mysteriously, both parents vanished in relation to a top-secret research project. The thing preventing total destruction of the family's an ancient curse: utter ruin to any that lay a hand upon this bloodline-the protection has already started to fade. In a fateful meet with Lance, Evelyn would acquire an artifact capable of giving unimaginable superhuman powers. But one condition binds their uneasy alliance: equivalent exchange. Such were destined to forge alliances as well as betray and cut secret deals, and in such noise, Lance discovers the buried legacy of his own blod, a legacy that perhaps holds the key to his grand ambition towards godhood. Bloodlines are unveiled, as underground superhuman races come to light, and as secret organizations revealed their own conspiracy towards ascendencion. Lance sacrifices pawns in a larger game that only he can see in every moves. Even gods bleed. Will Lance maneuvers his enemies to rise to the throne of immortality or will his cold calculations be trumped by love, betrayal, and the unraveling secrets of his past?.

A million years have passed since the war that shattered the harmony of Caelestia—the once-divine realm that shimmered with eternal light. The Divinomachy. It began with a betrayal. One of the Supreme Emperor’s most powerful and revered archangels, corrupted by pride, jealousy and ambition, raised his blade against his Creator. His defiance was swift and infectious—many of the Emperor’s faithful servants followed him, seduced by whispers of freedom, power, and a new order. Thus ignited a celestial war — Divinomachy. For one hundred years, the heavens trembled under the weight of clashing divinities. Brother turned against brother. Skies once filled with song now roared with the cries of battle. At last, the Supreme Emperor, weary of endless bloodshed, brought the war to a bitter close. With a divine curse, he cast down the traitors into a prison realm he created—Phlegethon and sealed their leader—while some escaped. Their punishment was eternal. Once-angelic beings were twisted into demons. Their silver skin blackened and grew scales. Their radiant wings darkened into shadows, and crimson replaced their once pure silver eyes. Even their hands bore the mark of damnation—silver claws sprouting where gentle fingers had once been. And when the fallen archangel was finally struck down, a prophecy echoed across the universe—spoken through the Emperor’s oracle: “When the stars realign and the seal weakens, the fallen one shall rise again. But from the forbidden love of both light and darkness shall be born a child—a hybrid. He shall end what the traitor had begun.” Though Caelestia was rebuilt, its wounds never fully healed. For prophecy does not forget, and the chains that bind the fallen grow weaker with every passing age. The ones who escaped hid themselves across the universe, patiently waiting for the return of their master.