> "When the gods turned their faces, it was fire that we turned to. When all walls fell, only the Veil stood."
— Inscription over the Gate of Last Flame
The world once called Earth is no more. It is now Vayundhara, a scarred land ruled not by nations but by survivors.
One hundred and twenty-six years ago, the skies tore open like wounded flesh. From within the rift—a void known as the Ten Thousand Fractures—descended clans, beasts, demigods, and invaders unlike anything written in scripture or stored in silicon memory. Some flew on black winds, others marched on bone serpents. And some... some brought skies with them—dimensions stitched to their skin.
The world powers were first to fall. Missiles, spells, machine gods—all tried, all failed. Humanity scattered, cities crumbled, and the age of empires ended in flame. From the ashes rose only three things:
1. The Ten Thousand Clans — Invaders from fractured dimensions, each fighting not just humans, but each other for domination.
2. The Leylines — Hidden rivers of spiritual energy beneath the crust, long ignored, now awakened by the dimensional rifts.
3. The Veil Fortress — A bastion built over the world's oldest leyline intersection. The last flame. The last wall.
The Veil Fortress, built by forgotten saints and guided by celestial architects, became more than a stronghold. It became legend. Its black towers pierced the heavens. Its gates repelled godsteel. Beneath it, the Final Flame burned—not a fire of heat, but of soul. A mythic essence said to link all life on Vayundhara. If it is snuffed out, the world ends.
But even legends have limits.
Now, in the 126th year of invasion, the enemy stirs again. Three demon kings have united—The Claw of Helgaoth, The Silver Maw, and The Behemoth Prince. Their coalition, known as the Outer Fangs, seeks to crush the Veil once and for all, and claim the Final Flame for their own fractured gods.
The Resistance is no more. Only a scattered militia, broken wizards, spirit-bonded orphans, and the Veil Guard remain. And leading them—reluctantly, quietly, and out of obligation rather than pride—is a man history forgot.
His name is Ashwan Raithe.
Exiled for cowardice. Cursed by his clan. Ignored by his people.
But the Final Flame burns in him. Literally.
He bears the mark of Agniyan, the lost war-spirit of fire and dharma once worshipped in the deep South. A spirit that now shares his soul, his thoughts, and—on occasion—his rage.
Ashwan is not a chosen one. Not a hero. He is simply the Rear Commander of the Last Stand Division—tasked with the most thankless duty in war:
To guard the rear.
To hold the gate.
To die last.
To ensure others live long enough to fight another day.
But when the Outer Fangs march and the Veil trembles for the first time in a century, Ashwan must become more than a rear commander.
He must become the Keeper of the Veil.
And his story does not begin in victory—but in retreat.