" In ancient times the first ones came
The Ancestors, great in number
Both good and evil, endlessly fighting
‘Til the good were destroyed and the evil victorious.

Among the Ancestors, twelve grew mighty
They found the gateways to other worlds
And watched them jealously, lest the others use them,
Until these Guardians and the portals were indivisible.

But the Ancestors feared this supremacy
And raised great machines; great weapons
Twelve in all, one for each Guardian
But their efforts were all to be in vain.

For the Guardians sought the worlds for themselves
Cleansed of the Ancestors and all oppositions to power.
And they raised a weapon of their own creation
Forged in immortality, to destroy their enemies.

Well they made their weapon – too well indeed.
For it turned on its creators, this unstoppable force
And the Guardians perished, one by one
And the portals shattered throughout all worlds.

Darkness came – the Ancestors too were scythed down
A few surviving in hidden places, their bloodline thinned
While the weapon of the Guardians ran rogue and bloody
Finally vanishing into the worlds, nevermore to be seen.

So ended the great Age of the Ancestors
Leaving behind the Earthborn, sad shadows
And their great Zodiac Engines, a reminder
Of how majesty, however mighty, crumbles and falls. "

 

 

 

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