60 years after the birth of Orion.

Ranni, a young boy, walked slowly into the massive city center, 3 gigantic statues standing before him.

A tall strong man with short hair holding a magnificently elegant spear. A title written below it. Orion the dauntless steel.

A beautiful well built woman holding a mighty blue tinged longsword to her shoulder. A second title written below it. Lyphiri the frosted sword.

A short thin man with long hair, a beautiful engraved staff clutched in his hands. A third title written below it, Aeram the wind ward king.

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Seeing these statues, the 3 people that lead the human race to prosperity, filled Ranni with hope. He too would fight at the front lines of the seventh Arta, fighting valiantly against demons and angels alike, to take their place in the heavenly realm.

40 years later

A once tall man, with towering mythril plated armor and a beautiful spear by his side, sat on a throne in his once filled hall. His time was over, he only hoped that the work he did would solidify humanity's place amongst the heavens.

The system extended everyone's life span, but at one cost, they knew exactly when they would die. Orion knew his time was coming, he had lived a long prosperous life. And now he would die alone in his empty hall, his only comfort the fact that humanity remained. His only hope that humanity would thrive.