In the primordial Void, there was nothing.

No matter. No concepts. No time. No space. Not even death.

Then They came—the beings known only as the Elder Gods.

And They gave the Void form.

They breathed into it Matter, Concepts, Laws, Space, Time, Definitions, Life and Death, Storylines, Information, and even the intricate framework of Fate and Causality.

These abstract forces were forged and woven into what would become the Endless Multiverse—a vast, shifting realm where reality could exist under stable laws.

Countless eons passed.

Billions, trillions, quadrillions...

Perhaps even infinite years beyond comprehension.

Then, in an unnamed universe, within a nondescript galaxy orbiting a distant star, something stirred.

Life.

It bloomed. It evolved. It multiplied.

But in their infancy, these fledgling creatures feared what they could not see. They whispered myths of "Demons" and "Gods."

Their fear fed the dark.

And their faith gave rise to light.

As ages passed, the collective human psyche birthed true demons, born of fear, wrath, despair.

But belief, too, birthed hope. A resistance.

Wars raged for hundreds of millions of years.

Some left, seeking new homes—dividing into two separate species with divergent paths. Over time, their divine gifts faded. Their power, once drawn from collective belief, slowly eroded.

Yet a fragment remained.

They fought in the shadows so that others could live in the light.

They gave their lives for peace they would never know.

They are known as:

C.A.C.D.
Cosmic Anomaly Containment Division

They contain the unknowable.
They face the incomprehensible.
So we don’t have to.

Spring, 2083.

Nicolas Ventis, an intern at a media agency in Dangea City, Nomilia, lay sick in bed.

The fever had struck without warning the night before.

He was watching the news, groggy, sweating.

“Unexplained anomaly in the Demuga Sea,” the headline read.

All contact with ships, aircraft, even satellites near the area had been lost.

Everything that approached had simply... vanished.

Nicolas: "Another trash tabloid report? No way this is real."

But as he scoffed, an earthquake rocked the entire apartment complex.

The TV screen flickered.

Then changed.

An emergency broadcast, global and absolute.

“STAY AWAY FROM THE DEMUGA SEA.”
“EVACUATE TO THE NEAREST SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.”
“THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

It repeated three times, then went dead.

Sirens blared across Dangea City.

Unfortunately for Nicolas, Dangea was located right next to Degula Bay—part of the cursed Demuga Sea.

As he frantically tried to pack, a guttural roar ripped through the air.

Then came the screams.

The chaos.

The explosions.

Peering through his window, Nicolas froze.

What he saw was madness.

A winged creature with two horns—one short, one long—soared through the air. It wielded a trident that fired beams of destruction indiscriminately.

And it was not alone.

Dozens, no, hundreds of horrific beings rampaged through the city.

One of them suddenly turned its grotesque head and locked eyes with Nicolas.

His blood turned cold.

He stumbled backward, heart pounding.

BOOM!

A barrage of tridents obliterated his window, blowing apart the spot where he had just stood.

One of the creatures flew in, grinning like a monster from a forgotten nightmare.

It lunged toward him.

Nicolas squeezed his eyes shut, expecting death.

Ten seconds passed.

Then twenty.

Nothing.

No noise. No movement.

Only... absolute silence.

When he opened his eyes, the world was gray.

Frozen in time.

Everything had stopped—except him.

Then the scenery changed.

He now stood in a surreal, ancient chamber.

Majestic and eldritch in design.

At its center sat a man in a sleek suit—headless, yet undeniably regal.

To his left, a filthy old man holding a deck of cards and a divine chalice.

To his right, a refined figure reading a massive book, thick as half his body.

Each figure embodied an absolute archetype:

Poverty.

Nobility.

Knowledge.

Nicolas: “Where… am I? Who are you people? What is this place?”

The central figure finally spoke:

“You’ve been chosen,” he said.
“I brought you here.”

“Welcome to the House of Vortex.”

“To my left is my elder brother: Vortex Oblivion.”
“To my right, my brilliant youngest brother: Vortex Knorl.”
“And I… am Vortex Agene.”

Nicolas: “Chosen? For what…?”

Agene: “Since the dawn of the Multiverse, you are the first being truly compatible with me.”
“Nicolas Ventis, do you desire power?”

Oblivion: “So all this talk… you just want to pass your powers on to the kid?”

Agene: “Indeed, brother.”

Knorl: “But why?”

Agene: “Because I’m bored. This existence is... monotonous.”

Nicolas tried to respond—when Agene suddenly vanished.

Before he could speak—

A cosmic eruption burst forth.

Galaxies. Stars. Universes.

Erased.

Faster than time. Beyond space.

Then, just as quickly—

The Multiverse was rewritten.

Reality sculpted anew, from nothing.

Agene reappeared, dusting off his sleeves.

Agene: “Oops. My bad. Been a while since I used my powers. Accidentally destroyed your 4D universe.”

Nicolas stood speechless.

Mouth agape.

Agene: “Sorry again. You alright? Say something.”

Nicolas: “Ah! N-no worries sir. I-I’m totally fine! As long as… you’re happy.”

Agene chuckled.

Agene: “No need for ‘sir.’ Just call me Agene.”

Nicolas: “Y-yes! A-Agene!”

He dared not protest.

End of Chapter 1