Torch of Shadows

Once, light reigned supreme and shadows fled. But in the darkness light did not dare venture, something stirred — not as evil, but as memory. The forgotten pulse of creation itself waited and watched, whispering that the world had lost its symmetry. The gods forged a prison to contain this rebalance: a temple at the edge of eternity with a black hole bound at its heart. The Guardians arrived one after another, each swearing to preserve the equilibrium between light and dark. And each fell — not because they failed, but because they succeeded all too well. Now the torch is passed to you. Not to save the world. Only to delay its inevitable collapse.