"Calamity is finally over. But in its wake,

a different world was shaped"

Each and every World or Realm, each manifestation of reality, eventually reaches its own end. And from the debris, the cinders, aftermath of the pyre of a dead organism, rises the first spark of creation. At the end of each World, a pathway is formed, a tunnel that leads to a hub world of awaiting and reflecting, of being forged and bathed into fire and ice, mountains and oceans. Those who travel to such worlds, make a Pledge. Those who wander to such worlds, realise that memories are but firestorms, deep in the void of the universe. Oaths of a past life are now a sacrifice to old gods, born in the depths of the oceans. Dreams and goals are transformed into instict of survival, into a holy pilgrimage in the realms of the undead. And faces of beloved ones are now reflected upon wandering fellowships, crests of cities of old by the sea, angels and demons, vampires and ghosts. No one knows the destination of a tunnel like this. No one knows how dreams and illusions, a mixture of fantasy and horror, despair and hope, shall lead to an eternal dawn.