In the sterile glow of a laboratory where miracles and hubris intertwined, humanity’s greatest gamble unfolded: the rebirth of a child. The doctors, both medical and technological, rushed from station to station to achieve that which humanity considered impossible - and deeply immoral. They had harnessed the utmost potential of robotics, bioengineering, and biomedicine. Their goal was not the first-ever brain transplant, but the most ambitious one in humanity's brief history

These were people at the top of their respective fields. Professionals beyond any reproach - not just names and reputations, true exemplaries of skill, the load of their combined knowledge and experience so great it might well shatter the foundations of the grounds they stood on.

If those were all the skills required to perform this particular procedure, we would consider it mundane. However, one man stood among them as an “another”: an arcanist, someone who had spent their entire life devoted to the study of that which we call Aether and its functions. Indeed, magic had been harnessed by his like for millenia, however in secret. 

The event referred to by experts as “The Ascension Collapse” - a name which accurately depicted both the ecstasy and ruin brought upon humanity by it - had shattered the accumulated breadth of human experience. It upended the lives of most common people, suddenly promising them power to overthrow their oppressors and change their lives. The wealthy, in their mighty palaces of gold and chrome, came upon a new means of enhancing their control over society. Riots and widespread dissent brought havoc upon the mega-cities, while those who called more remote places home felt the sting of all-out chaos and lawlessness perhaps the hardest of all.

Thus, with a new energy source, as well as the causality-shattering effects of ‘magic’, humanity reached a new breakthrough in its ability to create, in essence, the perfected human body.

One that married the staggering utility and power of technology, already proven by the widespread usage of implants and body hardware modifications, with the reality-bending capacity of magic. 

A body so self-sufficient, so powerful, so fluid, that a ‘real’ person fitted inside such a vessel would become, essentially, the ultimate specimen of mankind.

While widespread, the sheer magnitude of bodily augmentation some devoted few achieved was often considered madness, or heresy.

This next step would trump that notion a thousandfold. It was, as defined by members of that project, the next step of human evolution. A brand-new species that far superseded the potential of humanity in every conceivable way.

Beyond unethical, it carried untold dangers even in the minds of those who orchestrated its conception. “What if the child turns on us?”, they often pondered. They found a way to remedy this, though uncertain. “Could some unforeseen catastrophe happen?” This, they could not anticipate, by the very nature of the question. The conversations on the validity of their effort usually ended with someone bringing up the concept of this being a “bet with no losses”, as they called it. “Either we succeed, and create a being that will lead us into a new age of prosperity and growth, or we fail catastrophically and an already-doomed humanity doesn’t have to suffer through the twilight years of the planet it so cruelly mismanaged and destroyed every step along the way.” These words were first uttered by Doctor Elias Rane, who many considered the head of the operation, so vigorous was his defense of the project. At the most pivotal times, he maintained order and kept their minds held together, such was his charisma and conviction.

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These weren’t the only concerns voiced, of course. If the nature of their project came to light in the public eye, there wouldn’t be a place on Earth or beyond that could hide them from the retribution of their fellow men. A few along the way quit the project entirely, vigorously cautioning their peers of the dangers involved in such a monumental task. Those who remained knew all too well. It plagued their minds day and night, one such Doctor Solomon Vane being very vocal about apocalyptic nightmares that held sway far beyond the edge of sleep. There wasn’t a soul inside that facility that could well ignore such persistent terrible visions troubling a man who seemed to many like a voice of kindness and reason.

Through concerted efforts from those involved in the technological aspects of such an unprecedented feat, the arcanist wove a spell that bound it all together. Their minds, working in tandem, brought to a supernatural crescendo the likes of which was essentially impossible under the natural constraints of humanity. Magic, doing the work not even a thousand men could come close to performing, much less in concert with one another. Such magic was held together by experience alone, for the arcanist’s nerves were on the verge of collapse. Hands trembling, sweat staining every article of clothing. Still, he dared not waver, as the room itself bent and warbled in response to his magnificent arcane act. 

Every tremble of his hands served a purpose, each motion sustaining a spell of staggering complexity - one so audacious that his wizardly peers would scarcely believe it possible. The very air hummed with power, wisps and strands of aether of very possible color - and some unseen to the eyes of man - darted across and connected every mind, every heart in that room. Around the boy, arcane energies cascaded with such fury that could only be felt, not heard or seen. It made him sick.

To steel his mind, he recounted all his myriad reasons for allowing his son to undergo such a dangerous process. His own lived experience, along with the warnings from professionals in the media -  as well as his extremely adept colleagues - told him there soon wouldn’t be a place for his son to call home. That was perhaps chief among his concerns: to live, and live well, his son needed a place to call home that couldn’t be called a wasteland, even at a glance.

Hence, their new ‘god’ was born. From the dedication of a mad and talented few, a new age had dawned on humanity, though the shadow on the horizon foreshadowed something far darker. An instantaneous consequence for the hubris of man.

When the boy took his first breath inside that new vessel, the elements raged in opposition. All over the world, winds rose to a climax and rampaged through countrysides. As he felt the warmth of his skin, dormant volcanoes, silent for centuries, spewed molten lava across the landscape. The first tear shed upon the realization of success - such relief that he had survived the procedure - also mirrored tidal waves washing away so many shores and lives. Every single aspect of nature was somehow distraught, as if to accommodate for the birth of a new order. The countless lives lost in this catastrophic event would be engraved in the history as one of the most violent natural events to plague the Earth, nearly on par with the extinction-level events of eras past, though not quite enough to erase humanity’s stubborn foothold on existence.

Across the world, images of death and destruction streamed through the screens for all to see. The utter ravaging of the land destroyed homes and infrastructure without distinction. Smoke clouded the sky in such a wide pattern that many wondered if there had ever been a shade of blue to the sky at all.

The arcanist brought his face close to the boy’s and touched their foreheads together, laughs and excitement commanding the bodies of every person in the room. The man’s efforts had not resulted in pointless sacrifice of his own kin, his own son. Rather, he had given his boy the ultimate gift. And proud he was to have done so, despite having nearly given up on the entire idea. The weight of this process had nearly cracked him, and he couldn’t say even now if he would consider himself whole. Removing the boy from the cradle in a tender embrace, the relief of that moment would only last so long.

When they emerged from their underground facility and learned of the havoc spreading around the world, the realization crushed their spirits. Unforeseen consequences, painting each of their skilled hands in hot, sticky blood. Blood that would never wash away. The only fitting reaction was abject horror.

Some sighed in acceptance. Some raged against that which they had created, foolishly hoping erasing their creation would somehow undo the damage done. Most were absorbed in their prayers and anxieties, hoping their actions could be vindicated in some way.

The boy was reborn. To a world somehow far more distraught and fractured than when he had been sedated so that his rebirth could begin.

To restore this shattered world he would require allies.