Hybrid “app-like” timeline: swipe the era cards, tap one to expand the full era entry below.
Realms existed as sealed chambers, each a universe unto itself. Humanity walked beneath stars that had never shed their light upon mortal soil. Magic slumbered in dimensions the human tongue had no words for. The veil between worlds stood absolute.
A star fell. Not as metaphor, but as cosmic fact—an ancient astral being plummeting through the skin of reality itself. Its descent tore wounds across the fabric separating worlds, divine fragments scattering like shrapnel through dimensions. Fate intervened, transforming shattered celestial matter into Holy Items, binding them to human souls deemed capable. The first Guardians emerged from stardust. Miracles and monstrosities seeded the earth in equal measure. Holy Item radiation began filling the atmosphere, changing everything it touched.
Reality unravelled slowly, dimension bleeding into dimension. The veil didn't shatter—it dissolved, membrane growing permeable until spirits, demons, celestial beings walked freely between worlds. Cities pulsed with energies they had no framework to comprehend. Ancient forests woke. Rivers learned to whisper prayers. Sky-borne citadels shimmered into view above London's grey skyline.
Humans encountered fairies, Duskkin, demons, Onari—beings from hundreds of realms spilling into a world unprepared for their arrival. Lintels formed in the atmosphere, cloud-creatures born from the marriage of holy radiation and industrial pollution.
Upheaval. Confusion. Fear transmuting into violence. Humans fought to comprehend beings whose very existence defied their understanding of reality. The Duskkin hunted, driven by bloodlust and tradition. Demons pursued their enigmatic agendas. Fairies under a cruel monarch executed dissenters, entire families erased for perceived disloyalty.
Territorial wars erupted. Each faction carved domains from the chaos, power struggles leaving scars across multiple realms. The Fairy Kingdom's Emerald Glades still bear veins of poisoned metal from those conflicts. Trafalgar Square stood witness to battles that reshaped city blocks. Blood—human and otherwise—stained streets that had never known such carnage.
Amidst the chaos, the Alchemical Society flourished. Their magnificent city rose—architecture defying gravity, streets imbued with spells for wellbeing, buildings that seemed to breathe with enchanted life. The Philosopher's Stone, guarded by Kartel Hammond, pulsed at the city's heart, powering wonders that bordered on miraculous.
Alchemists melded arcane and scientific in ways the world had never witnessed. Their utopia stood as proof that magic and technology could coexist, that knowledge pursued with wisdom could create paradise.
Then a demon coveted what they'd built.
A malevolent demonic spirit, obsessed with the Philosopher's Stone, manipulated factions against the Society. War came to their city of wonders. Magnificent structures crumbled. Magical innovations were lost to ash and devastation. The Stone shattered, its fragments scattering across existence.
Kartel Hammond survived, taking a vow of silence, haunted by loss. The city's ruins became a pilgrimage site, a monument to the fragility of power and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
Exhaustion breeds wisdom. The races, battered by endless conflict, recognised a simple truth: mutual destruction or mutual survival. Peace treaties were forged not from idealism but pragmatism. Borders were established. Collaborative councils formed to maintain balance between realms.
Knowledge began flowing between worlds. Humans offered scientific understanding, technological innovation. In return, magical beings shared arcane principles, fundamental forces governing reality itself. The Celestial Veil festival emerged—the Church's annual celebration of interdimensional harmony, week-long markets where enchanted wares from distant dimensions mingled with human ingenuity.
From collaboration, something unprecedented: Technomagic. Science wed to sorcery. Runic magic channelling through engineered systems. Magi-tech weapons. Screening devices merging crystal balls with computer screens. Magic smartphones creating holographic communication that bridged realms.
Rune Riders transformed from metal bookmarks into motorcycles. The Streamliner carved paths through London on rails of solidified light. The Sanctuary in the Sky rose above the city—originally built by reformist clergymen as a bastion against Church corruption, eventually becoming something stranger: holy refuge by day, den of indulgence by night.
Technomages became the most sought-after individuals in existence. Factions vied for their services. Innovation accelerated beyond anything previously imagined.
Jedia the Faceless—mage who'd poisoned the Church from within—trapped Shonen Kartia in a timeless void. When Shonen discovered the truth, grief-maddened rage consumed him. He slaughtered his own wife and child, then turned his immortal fury upon the Church itself.
Years of rampage followed. A tide of blood and fire. When Shonen and Jedia finally clashed, their duel didn't simply damage London—it unmade portions of reality. Big Ben fell. Trafalgar Square became ruins. Buildings scorched and crumbling bore mute testimony to devastation wrought by primordial forces.
Even realms untouched by direct conflict suffered echoes. The Fairy Kingdom's Emerald Glades gained veins of poisoned metal. Reality itself bore scars.
In destruction's wake, unprecedented collaboration. Races that had warred now laboured side by side, rebuilding what gods had unmade. New Big Ben rose from the heart of London—tower crafted from mystical alloy pulsing with inner light, clock face adorned with gold grooves forming protective enchantments.
When the hour strikes, visible waves of energy radiate across the city. The Chimes of Renewal, they're called—pulses carrying positive energy, promoting healing and growth wherever they touch. At night, the tower becomes a beacon, soft glow visible for miles.
Max Prison emerged around this same period. A joint-faction facility, publicly united though privately fractious. MI6 provided technomagic infrastructure. The Order contributed arcane suppression systems. The Yakuza-Triad syndicate supplied ruthless efficiency. The Church, while publicly condemning it, secretly wove holy seals into its foundation.
A grim compromise: the price of safety in a world where gods walk among mortals.
Technology and magic no longer coexist uneasily—they're inseparable, woven into the fabric of daily existence. Lintels float above magic-infused buildings, feeding on ambient energies. Cloud Mantas soar through skies while Streamliners carve paths through city streets.
Factions maintain delicate balance. MI6, The Order, the Church, Yakuza-Triad, Demon's Legion—each pursuing agendas that sometimes align, often conflict. Holy Items continue changing hands, Guardians bound to new charges. The Sanctuary in the Sky still floats above London, sacred and profane dancing as one.
Eirik's laws transformed Duskkin culture, redirecting bloodlust toward mythical creatures in the Urban Jungle. The Fairy Kingdom evolved under new leadership, gossamer thrones surrounded by holographic advisors. Demons slip between realms through corrupted portal technology, biomechanical constructs powered by trapped souls.
The Celestial Shattering's radiation still fills the atmosphere. Reality's veil remains permeable. And somewhere, Shonen Kartia searches for the death his immortality denies him, while the world holds its breath.