The Origin of Everything — The Animic Current
Before time.
Before light.
Before existence itself dared to have a name.
There was no sky.
No earth.
No matter.
Not even the void that would one day precede it.
There was no life.
There was no death.
In truth… even the concept of existence did not yet exist.
There was only one thing.
A single presence.
Infinite.
Absolute.
Something that filled everything while occupying nothing at all.
An invisible ocean of pure essence, pulsing in a silence that endured for incomprehensible ages.
This presence was known as the Animic Current.
It had no form.
No consciousness.
No will.
It simply was.
The primordial source of everything that would one day exist.
With every pulse of the Current, fragments of essence emerged—tiny invisible sparks drifting through a universe that did not yet know it was a universe.
Each fragment carried potential.
For countless ages, those sparks appeared…
And vanished.
Not in seconds.
Not in years.
For time itself did not yet exist.
Only cycles.
Endless pulses of the Current.
Until something changed.
Some of those sparks began to remain.
Fragments of essence gathered together, condensing into small presences within the endless void.
And then…
For the first time since the absolute beginning…
Something awakened.
A newborn consciousness emerged within that infinite ocean of essence.
And for the first time in existence…
A voice echoed.
“…I…”
A pause.
“…exist?”
It was a simple question.
But it was the first thought the universe had ever known.
Soon, other consciousnesses began to appear.
Fragile, unstable presences that awakened and vanished just as quickly.
Some carried a gentle, luminous nature.
Others burned with a more volatile and chaotic essence.
The Current made no distinction.
It simply pulsed.
And both order and chaos were born from the same source.
Over countless ages, these beings grew more stable.
Some developed forms.
Others remained as pure manifestations of essence.
Among them, two types began to stand apart.
Beings whose nature was harmonious and creative.
And others whose very existence burned like an insatiable flame.
One meeting between two such beings would mark the beginning of something inevitable.
One shone like living gold.
The other burned like a black flame.
The luminous presence spoke first.
“Why do you consume everything around you? We could build together.”
The dark flame answered with a low laugh.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Build? To exist is to burn. You cling to permanence because you fear fading.”
“We do not fear it. We simply choose differently.”
The flame studied the other for a moment before turning away.
“Then let our choices decide who deserves to exist.”
Before departing, it left behind one final sentence.
“One day… existence will choose a side.”
“And it will not be yours.”
Thus began the first conflict of existence.
From that moment onward, the greatest beings of that early age would be known as the Primordials.
And much later…
Something far worse would emerge.
The Rise of Humanity
Long after the birth of those ancient beings, new forms of life appeared.
Among them, one race was particularly fragile.
Mortal.
Limited.
Human.
Yet despite their weakness, they carried something extraordinary.
Within their souls pulsed a fragment of the Animic Current itself.
In time, some humans learned to feel that pulse.
Then they learned to shape it.
Thus were born the Animic Cores.
Some humans could control simple elements:
Fire.
Water.
Wind.
Earth.
Lightning.
Others refined those abilities into more specialized forms:
Ice.
Metal.
Explosions.
And in extremely rare cases, there were those capable of manipulating the very foundations of reality itself.
Space.
Time.
Absolute Light.
These were known as Superior Cores.
Powers that bordered on the divine.
But where power exists…
Ambition inevitably follows.
The Birth of the Primordial Demons
As centuries passed, some humans began seeking something greater than simply mastering their Animic Cores.
They wanted to surpass the limits of the Current itself.
Orders of mages.
Powerful rulers.
Legendary users of the Current.
All driven by the same ambition.
To create perfect power.
Forbidden experiments began to appear.
Rituals meant to fuse multiple essences together.
Attempts to compress countless energies into a single core.
In one such ritual, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of Animic users gathered.
Their goal was simple.
Unite their essence.
Compress their power.
Forge a perfect core.
An absolute source of strength.
But the Animic Current was never meant to be forced.
When so many essences were compressed together, something broke.
Not only within their cores.
But within the structure of existence itself.
The condensed energy collapsed.
The ritual did not create power.
It created corruption.
From that distortion, something new was born.
Creatures that no longer obeyed the natural laws of existence.
Thus emerged the Primordial Demons.
They were not human.
They were not spirits.
They were not natural Primordials.
They were humanity’s ambition made monstrous.
Where they walked, kingdoms vanished.
Skies tore open.
Oceans boiled away.
Entire civilizations disappeared.
Among them all, one would become the greatest symbol of terror.
The Demon of Black Flames.
Its fire did not merely destroy the body.
It consumed essence itself.
Leaving nothing behind.
Not even memory.
Humanity stood on the brink of extinction.
The Council of the Ancients
In the face of annihilation, the greatest users of the Animic Current gathered.
Kings.
Archmages.
Legendary warriors.
The most powerful rulers of that age.
Among them stood Aetherion Valtheris.
After countless failed battles, he presented the only possible solution.
They would not destroy the demons.
They would imprison them.
Using the combined power of every Animic master present, they would compress the demons’ existence itself.
Form.
Consciousness.
Power.
Everything reduced to a single point.
An Animic Core.
A living prison.
The ritual shook the world.
Mountains shattered.
Oceans split apart.
Thousands perished in the process.
But one by one, the Primordial Demons were compressed.
Their existence crushed.
Condensed.
Until only pulsing cores remained.
Alive.
Aware.
Imprisoned.
Humanity had survived.
Barely.
The Guardian Kingdoms
The cores were divided among the great kingdoms of the age.
Each realm swore to guard one of these living prisons.
? Therion Vales — Guardian of the Black Flames Core
? Vaeltheris — Guardian of the Black Lightning Core
? Drakmyr — Guardian of the Absolute Magma Core
Thus began the pact that would protect the world.
Or so they believed.
The Great Seal
The Ancients understood a terrible truth.
Human ambition had already corrupted the Current once.
It could happen again.
So they created one final safeguard.
The Great Seal.
A spiritual law woven into existence itself.
From that day forward, any human who attempted to force their Animic Core beyond its natural limits would suffer catastrophic collapse.
The core would shatter.
Either killing the user…
Or destroying their power forever.
The age of new demons had ended.
Or so the world believed.
The Seal Weakens
Centuries passed.
Demons became legends.
Stories used to frighten children.
But no prison lasts forever.
The Core of Black Flames began to stir.
Its seal was weakening.
And the Ancients who created it were long gone.
No one alive knew how to reinforce the original seal.
Only the present remained.
Only the now.
And somewhere in Therion Vales…
A child was about to be born.
And with that birth…
The Abyss would breathe once more.
