In a past so distant it seemed to belong to another reality, a world now lost thrived beneath a sky studded with stars. This world, known as Zal'Kara, was a place of wonders and mysteries, where an ancient people lived in harmony with creatures that later generations would deem imaginary. The Zal'Karians, a people with pristine white hair and skin tanned by a blazing sun, had built their civilization in the heart of an ancestral impact crater, a place they called Xal'Thar, the "Basin of the Stars." Their architecture, a mesmerizing blend of pre-Columbian and Egyptian influences, combined stepped pyramids adorned with intricate bas-reliefs with obelisks etched with constellations. The buildings, carved from black volcanic stone and inlaid with luminescent crystals, shimmered under starlight, as if the city itself mirrored the night sky.
The Zal'Karians revered the stars, viewing them as living deities. Each child, at birth, received a name inspired by the heavens, chosen by priest-astrologers who studied the skies. On that day, a vibrant festival swept through Xal'Thar. Drums pounded, their syncopated rhythms blending with the guttural chants of the priests, while dancers adorned with feathers and golden jewelry twirled through streets paved with mosaics. The Queen, a majestic woman with white hair braided with golden threads, had given birth to a son without complication. That night, the stars shone with unusual brilliance, and after hours of observation, the priests proclaimed the child's name: Soehpt, meaning "Star of the Dawn" in their ancient tongue.
Soehpt grew up in a world where nature and spirituality were deeply intertwined. The Zal'Karians lived alongside ancient creatures, beings straight out of myth. Among them were majestic dinosaurs—saurians with shimmering feathers, massive herbivores with gleaming scales, and agile predators roaming the lush jungles encircling the crater. Though wild, these creatures were revered as manifestations of stellar spirits, and the Zal'Karians had learned to coexist with them, forging bonds of friendship and mutual respect. Children played in the shade of towering Tlal'Kor, long-necked herbivores whose emerald-like scales glinted, while hunters tamed Zor'Thal, winged reptiles with membranous wings, to explore the skies.
Zal'Karian culture was rich and intricate. Clothing, woven from plant fibers and adorned with vibrant feathers, reflected social status. Priests wore black robes encrusted with stellar crystals, while warriors donned lightweight armor crafted from saurian scales, painted with geometric patterns. Their white hair, a symbol of pride, flowed freely in childhood but was intricately braided in adulthood, adorned with gold and obsidian jewelry to mark life's milestones. Music, driven by Tlal'Kor-skin drums and bone flutes, accompanied every ceremony—from births to funerals to rites of passage.
At age 11, Soehpt, like all Zal'Karian children, faced a rite to become a man, a pivotal step allowing him to braid his hair and adorn it with the jewels of adulthood. This rite, called Kwe'Zal, required bonding with a creature from the region and earning a feather or scale as a token of its acceptance. The creatures varied in difficulty—docile Lun'Thar, small herbivorous saurians with silver feathers, were often chosen by cautious children. But Soehpt, driven by a competitive spirit and a need to prove his worth, selected the most formidable option: the Kaloar.
The Kaloar was a small carnivorous theropod, standing about a meter tall, covered in feathers of varied colors and patterns depending on the individual. Its sharp claws and pointed fangs made it an agile, dangerous predator—the only carnivore tolerated near Xal'Thar due to its role in the ecosystem's balance. Kaloars were notoriously hard to tame, their fierce nature and wariness of humans making the Kwe'Zal nearly impossible. Yet Soehpt, with the arrogance of youth and a prince's resolve, was determined to succeed where so many had failed.
For a year and a half, Soehpt ventured into the jungles surrounding the crater, studying a particular Kaloar he'd spotted—a dominant male with cyan feathers adorned with intricate golden patterns, whom he named Altan'Hak, "Golden Bolt" in Zal'Karian. The first weeks were a failure. The swift, wary Kaloar vanished into the ferns whenever Soehpt approached, leaving claw marks and shed feathers behind. But Soehpt persisted, learning to read the jungle's signs—footprints in the mud, feathers on branches, the shrill cries Altan'Hak used to claim his territory. He began leaving offerings—fresh meat, sweet fruits plucked from trees—placing them at a distance, watching from afar.
Over months, Altan'Hak grew to tolerate him. One day, as Soehpt sat by a stream, the Kaloar approached, its yellow eyes studying him with curiosity. Holding his breath, Soehpt extended a trembling hand, a piece of meat in his palm. Altan'Hak stepped closer, sniffed, and after a tense moment, took it gently, its fangs barely grazing Soehpt's skin. It was the start of a fragile friendship. Over the following weeks, Soehpt earned Altan'Hak's trust, playing with him in the jungle, mimicking his agile movements, and learning to communicate through whistles and gestures. Finally, a year and a half after beginning his Kwe'Zal, Altan'Hak offered Soehpt a cyan feather with golden patterns—a symbol of acceptance. Tears in his eyes, Soehpt tied it to his newly braided hair and returned to Xal'Thar a hero, hailed by his people.
But Soehpt's joy was short-lived. At 15, tragedy struck, an event that would mark Zal'Kara's end and the start of his personal hell. During a stellar ceremony, Soehpt, now a respected young warrior, was tasked with lighting the sacred braziers to honor the stars. Through a cruel twist of fate—a sudden gust, a poorly secured torch, a misplaced spark—the fire spiraled out of control. Fueled by the crater's hot winds, the flames spread with terrifying speed, consuming Xal'Thar's wooden and thatched structures. Shouts of celebration turned to screams of panic as the city blazed. Soehpt, frozen in horror, watched his mother, the Queen, try to lead an evacuation, but the fire was relentless. Panicked Tlal'Kor trampled fleeing citizens, and frenzied Zor'Thal crashed into obelisks, their wings aflame. Altan'Hak, loyal to the end, tried to shield Soehpt, but a burning beam collapsed, killing the Kaloar instantly.
Within hours, Xal'Thar was reduced to ashes, and with it, Zal'Karian civilization. Soehpt, the sole survivor, wandered the smoking ruins, his white hair blackened with soot, his trembling hands clutching Altan'Hak's cyan feather. Guilt consumed him—he had caused the end of his people, his family, everything he loved. As he collapsed amid the ashes, an infernal portal opened beneath him, dragging him into the hells, where his true punishment awaited.
Soehpt's hell was an unrelenting mental torment. For eons, he was condemned to relive Xal'Thar's fall, day after day, night after night. Each morning, he awoke in the city on the ceremony day, lighting the braziers and igniting the blaze. He saw his mother burn, Altan'Hak die, his people's screams echoing in his ears. Guilt gnawed at him, a crushing weight that broke his spirit further with each cycle. He tried to alter the outcome—douse the flames, evacuate the city, save Altan'Hak—but nothing worked. This hell was designed to torment him, to remind him he'd destroyed Zal'Kara.
But one day, after what felt like eternity, Soehpt noticed something strange. The flames consuming Xal'Thar gave off no heat. They were an unearthly blue, deep and icy, streaked with black, as if they absorbed light rather than emitted it. Intrigued, Soehpt approached, and a voice rumbled from the fire, deep and guttural, like a growl from the abyss. "You suffer, little mortal…" it murmured. "But I can offer you a way out." A figure emerged from the flames—a colossal demon of blue-and-black fire, its eyes glowing like embers. "I am Volgurax, an ancient hellspirit, trapped here like you. Together, we can escape… but on one condition."
Soehpt, shattered by eons of guilt, had nothing left to lose. "What condition?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Volgurax grinned, fangs glinting in the flames. "You'll become my host. Our souls will bind, and I'll lend you my power. But in return, you'll bear my burden… and my rage." Haunted by Xal'Thar's memories, Soehpt agreed. The blue flames engulfed him, searing pain ripping through his body as Volgurax merged with his soul. Yet for the first time in eons, Soehpt felt a flicker of hope—and a burning rage, not his own, that gave him strength to break his hellish chains.
Together, Soehpt and Volgurax escaped, crossing an infernal portal into a radically different realm—a futuristic universe, a cyberpunk landscape where neon skyscrapers pierced a perpetually gray sky, drones buzzed between suspended walkways, and gangs ruled the underbelly. This world, Nyx'Thalor, was a modern hell, a place of corruption and despair where damned souls fought to survive. Soehpt, marked by Volgurax, roamed its dark alleys, his white braided hair adorned with Altan'Hak's cyan feather—a constant reminder of his past. He wore scavenged lightweight armor of metal plates, and his once-warm brown eyes now glowed blue-black, a sign of Volgurax's presence.
It was in this world that he met Gills and Kira, two damned souls bound by unbreakable friendship. Gills, a man with black hair and a fiery aura, wielded red flames, while Kira, her skin etched with runic tattoos, channeled raw strength through her Cestus of Astrugg. They saw in Soehpt a broken yet powerful spirit and welcomed him into their team, the Blazing Skulls. Together, they chose to enter the Apex Rings Tournament, a contest promising redemption—or eternal damnation. For Soehpt, it was a chance to find meaning in his suffering, to overcome his guilt, and perhaps, one day, to avenge Zal'Kara's memory.