In a  world stretched in all directions, a realm of colossal continents and forgotten seas. Mountian ranges that reached for the stars and storms that envelop nations. Empires and kingdoms massive in size , their armies powerful enough to turn kingdoms into ash. But it was not only men who fought here. The air was heavy with the presence of beings far more dangerous, and hungry than your average man. Their shadows loomed over the battlefield, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

In a corner of this massive world, four empires battled against themselves , and a coalition of kingdoms. Each of them vying for dominance. The skies above the battle fields choked with smoke that billowed from the earth. Rising into the atmosphere and settling like dark clouds in the heavens. Below, the fields of war fire and steel. Flesh and bone shattered in their wake. Magic ripped the heavens apart, leaving the land and sky blackened and broken. These were the battlefields at the world's edge. a place where war was seemingly eternal and the soil only knew the taste of blood, long forgetting peace.

Amidst this endless cycle of destruction, there was a center—a heartbeat in the madness. Here, in the middle of the warring empires, was the Coalition.

A alliance of one hundred kingdoms, it spanned a vast expanse of land. that even its smallest kingdom could swallow the nations of old Earth whole. It is a fragile pillar of stability standing against the chaos of the world.

Lakes shimmered like mirrors under the sun, and the cities buzzed with life and trade.

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Though the wars was far away, it still felt ever nearer here; its shadow loomed. Casting doubt over the fragile peace that had settled like the quiet before a storm.

In the middle of the coalition stood a kingdom by the name of Moyo wa Dunia. It wasn't an innovative name; it was born out of the idea that this was the heart of the Coalition. The kingdom was a place of peace and prosperity, seemingly untouched by the chaos of war. Filled with beautiful architecture and culture. a place of magical lands with magical creatures and mythologies. It was a place of marvel and wonder. Its capital city, Moyo Mkuu, was a place filled with architecture made of steel, wood, and stone glass. A feat of magic beyond its time, allowing twisted spirals of earth, wood, glass, and steel to rise in the air despite the lack of advanced  machinery.

There was hustle and bustle everywhere, civilians differing in race and ethicity in their clothing of colorful prints .

Soldiers of different origins and armor walked among the civilians, each one representing the diverse nations of the Coalition.

All of them patrolling the area to look for threats together in their goal . Merchants, poets, magicians selling their goods and services perform for the attention of the masses.

Old women carried baskets on their heads, and horses and other animals meant for transportation, such as giant hamsters, moved through the traffic.

Children played with toys, whilst nobility in their high towers looked down their noses. Planning of ways to climb the social hierarchical ladder faster, backstabbing all the while .

Despite its massive size and its beautiful culture and architecture, Moyo Mkuu was a small corner in an expansive world, minuscule in the eyes of many. And in the smallest corner of this grand city, in the tightest alleyway, behind a butcher shop, we meet the destined hero of this tale: a boy rummaging through trash, looking for food.