Detrimental Infection X

Many years ago, long before memory could take shape, the skies of Earth tore open. From the wound in the heavens descended a crimson mist, quiet at first and almost beautiful. It rolled across oceans, mountains, and cities like a divine whisper. Beneath its beauty was corruption, a living parasite that did not destroy the flesh but rewrote it. The infection had come to Earth. It did not discriminate. Humans, animals, even the soil itself began to change. Some grew stronger and faster, gifted with impossible abilities. Others withered into twisted echoes of what they once were. Entire civilizations rose and fell in the chaos that followed. What began as survival soon became evolution, a war between what was natural and what was newly born. Six thousand years passed. The world that once was Earth no longer existed. Continents were reshaped by the infection’s breath. Oceans glowed with veins of red light that pulsed like a living heart. Above the clouds, citadels of divine light hung suspended in the air, the domain of the gods who claimed purity. Beneath them, angels guarded the borders of sacred lands, protecting what fragments of holiness remained. On the scarred surface below, what was left of humanity endured among ruins. Cities of steel and circuitry rose through toxic fog. People survived through machinery and mutation alike. Cyborgs replaced their failing flesh with cold alloy. Ghouls, once human, wandered the wastelands, not evil but hungry for the energy that kept them alive. In the depths of this broken world, the infection was not finished. It continued to breathe and evolve, searching for something that none could name. Legends spoke of a time when the infection would awaken fully, not as a curse but as a consciousness. When that moment arrived, every being, divine or damned, would face the truth of what they had become. That moment begins now.