The dirt walls break away, books come tumbling off the shelves as the bookcases fold into themselves, and the room goes swirling into the great blue above.

Will, Elizabeth and Ratra look around at the landscape around them. They’re surrounded by vast, rolling hills, mountains and forests off in the distance. Not a wall or a building in sight.

“Welcome to the very beginning,” Ratra announces, gesturing widely at the world around them. “Back before the Guardian Wall, before Sin, even before the four races. The world was just this: wide and green, filled with animals and nothing more.”

There’s a rustling from the grass around them, before they hear the sound of little scampering feet climbing a nearby stone. A small, brown rat clambers to the peak, sniffing at the air as it gets its bearings, before throwing itself off its perch and dashing off. “Speaking of which,” Ratra chuckles. “Look at me go!” The rat dashes through the grass with speed, vaulting over obstacles with ease. The old rat sighs, “I miss those days, back when I had all the energy in the world. But time waits for no rat, and soon enough, I began to slow.”

The world shifts again, now to a dark forest, the sun nearing the end of its descent below the horizon. The younger Ratra is here as well, noticeably thinner and slower. He stares up at the sky, his nose twitching, as if in thought. One can only guess at how a rat comes to understand its time is near. Ratra looks upon his younger self solemnly. “A rat is a scavenger. That is our place in the world. But what’s a rat to do when he’s too slow to get even the most meager of scraps? Just as the sun set on this world, it would soon set on my life. I only had a rudimentary understanding of this fact, but I knew it nonetheless.”

Then the world is enveloped in a blinding, golden light. The siblings shield their eyes, averting their gaze from the shaft of light descending from above. Ratra grins, gazing within the light without issue. “That was, until God took pity on me.”

The light vanishes, and in its place is a golden goblet filled with golden liquid. The young Ratra sniffs at it inquisitively, before a voice thunders across the woods:

My son, your time is near. Death comes for you. I am here to bless you with an opportunity at a new, eternal life, but know it does come with consequences.

The little rat looks back up to the sky as if in understanding, so the voice continues.

You have a choice, to drink of this goblet, or to accept your fate. This goblet is of my blood, Iquor, the blood of God. If you choose to drink, you will become one of my servants, a lesser God of sorts, and you will be granted great power.

But there is a catch. A god is not permitted to wander this Earth, therefore you will have to ascend to another plane. You will be able to watch the world from above, but it will no longer be your own.

Young Ratra looks back to the cup, sniffing at its contents. He appears to be contemplating his decision.

However, I will also grant you another opportunity: a chance at a legacy. If you drink of this goblet, I will permit you to leave behind something to carry on your name. A race of people, someone to praise you. I will grant you the greatest power of God: the power of Creation.

But the choice is yours, there is no wrong answer. So choose, eternal life or eternal peace.

Ratra returns to his paws, gazing at the goblet itself. He’s thinking.

Finally, he peeks back over the brim of the cup, and begins to drink. The world returns to white.

Ratra crosses in front of the siblings, looking back at them with a grin. “Of course, you can clearly see my choice. So you understand: I created Humankind as a way of leaving behind a legacy, of giving my worthless life a purpose.” The silhouette of a giant rat appears behind him as he stands there, basking in his own pride.

Three more silhouettes appear around them, one of a deer, a lizard, and an owl. “Though I certainly wasn’t the only one,” he says, gesturing at the other silhouettes. “Each of us, the four lesser gods, the Creators, were all near the end of our life, in one way or another. Deria, the creator of the Fawns, was lame in her front leg, meaning she couldn’t keep up with her herd and would be the first to be picked off in the event of an attack. Lizzeran, creator of the Drakonians, was cowardly, unwilling to leave his hole for fear of being devoured. And Owlin, Creator of the Demons, was blind, leaving him unable to hunt and capture prey.

“Each of us were broken in our own ways, so we each created a race to make up for our faults.” In front of Deria’s silhouette, a faceless woman with deer antlers on her head appears. “Deria wanted her race to be swift and kind, to compensate for her lameness, and so they would always treat nature with reverence.” Another figure, a titan of a man with broad shoulders and muscular arms appears in front of Lizzeran. “Lizzeran wanted a race that didn’t need to fear any creature, one who could strike down any foe without issue.” A final figure, one with horns atop their head, appears in front of Owlin. “And Owlin, having lost his eye to a branch during a faulty landing, wanted his race to be wise with sharp instincts, so that they would always be certain in themselves before making decisions.”

Once Ratra finishes, they arrive on a tall cliff, now with more of the faceless figures wandering around. “And this was Oracle,” he states plainly. Will and Elizabeth look out over the world below them, seeing large cities, great towers, and strange vehicles soaring through the air. Will looks down on it all in awe, completely enraptured in the beautiful sight. “This was Oracle?!” he exclaims, before catching something out of the corner of his eye. He runs to the other side of the cliff, catching sight of a wooden boat with paper sails drifting smoothly through the air. “That’s just like the ship I found! They really did fly!” Elizabeth joins him at his side, watching the ship go by with him. “Where did it all go..?” she asks.

They both turn back to Ratra, who looks back over the world below mournfully. “Unfortunately, this peace could never last.” The image before them disappears as well, back in the white space. “The races began to drift apart, isolate. Their differences became more and more apparent each day.” A Drakonian and a Fawn with wolf ears appear, walking away from each other. “Things truly began to escalate whenever the Drakonians, primarily dedicated to hunting the fierce Beasts of their homeland, became more indiscriminate in their prey.” The Drakonian quickly twists around, unsheathing a massive sword and cleaving the Fawn clear in half. “The Fawns, defined by their animal characteristics, were looked down upon by them, and became prey.” The two figures, frozen in the gorey act, vanish, replaced by a lone Human. “As for the Humans, well, no one could see anything special about them. They were considered weak, useless. They weren’t special enough, so they too isolated.” The Human solemnly walks off into the distance, vanishing as well, before being replaced by a Demon. “But, in the case of the Demons, their discrimination was by far the worst. Not only were the wise and cunning, they also had a secondary power: completely silent movement. This, of course, led to none trusting them, cast out and shunned by all others.” The Demon falls to their knees, their head in their hands, and sobs. Will feels a pang of sorrow just from the sound.

“There was a great bitterness among Demonkind. They grew to resent the greater society that judged them, treated them as criminals. This opened the gate for a great darkness.” Behind the Demon, a massive, black shroud appears, taking the form of a hulking creature, grinning menacingly with shining red eyes. “A cursed deal was struck, and the Demons sold themselves to Sin.” The shroud grows, enveloping the demon beneath it, before plunging the entire world into darkness. Another transition.

They’re back in the field from before. There are no animals, no faceless people. The air is still. The world doesn’t dare breathe. Will’s heart picks up speed, feeling as if something big is coming.

From below, the ground rumbles, as if the Earth itself were enraged. The wind suddenly howls, ripping at their clothes, dragging Will’s cloak in the air as everything falls apart. Cracks appear in the dirt, ripping the earth apart. The ground explodes, dirt and roots climbing into the sky and bursting like fireworks. Will and Elizabeth tumble to the ground, Ratra standing unmoving against the oncoming tide of soil and stone.

When the dust clears, the siblings expelling the grime from their lungs, they eventually see it.

A massive, black pit has appeared in the ground, going down into an apparently infinite darkness. Will peeks over the side, feeling his heart lurch as he gazes into the bottomless depths. Deciding he’s had enough, he stumbles back, looking back to Ratra.

A single tear crosses the rat’s smiling face.

“And from there, these pits, the Sins rose.”

There’s another rumbling as a loud, horrific screeching comes from below, before a massive black form consumes the world. A million creatures, all of different sizes and shapes, erupt from the pit and crawl across the world. They start as disgusting, inky masses, before taking form and giving themselves flesh. Some run, some crawl, some fly, all of them are awful.

It isn’t long before the world transitions again, and for the final time. They find themselves back in the library, sitting in the chairs from before. The world falls silent, all except for the crackling of the fireplace.

Ratra’s golden orbs glisten as he stares ahead, mourning the world that was lost. “We didn’t give up, of course. The mortals attempted to rally some heroes together, Champions, but… it wasn’t enough. There was nothing we could do… So, as one final, desperate chance at hope, a special group of mortals sealed the Sin army away, and the gods combined our power to erect the Guardian Wall as a way of containing the pits and the Sins that gushed from within them. To put it simply… we failed. Best we could do was hide away and hope… delay the inevitable to give us a chance to fight back.

“It didn’t end there, though.” Another faceless figure appears behind Ratra, a Human. “Humans weren’t happy with me. They cursed me, blaming me for their weakness.” The Human bends down and screams silently into Ratra’s ear as the siblings watch. He doesn’t even seem to know it’s there. “They forgot about me, leaving me out of their prayers and abandoning my temple.” The Human turns and storms off, before vanishing. “And I was left here, alone. A failure of a god.”

The silence returns, and the atmosphere is thick. None dare speak.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whispers. Ratra looks up to her, and they lock eyes, before he shakes it off. He grins unevenly, looking over the two of them. “I-I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to be such a downer… heh…” His face seems to regain some of the strength from earlier. “Listen, there is a reason I’m telling you all this. For so long, I have abandoned hope, but now… now we have hope. We have… the first Champion.” He points his cane at Will.

It takes a moment for him to register what he means, looking down at his chest where Ratra’s pointing, before looking back up. “Me? Why?” he asks dumbly.