📜Lore

EGADS - THE BEGINNING - Chronicles of the Red Dawn

In the haunting year of 2112, the world bore witness to the cataclysmic aftermath of humanity's gravest missteps. The sun, teetering on the edge of its demise, transformed into a seething red giant, casting its fiery radiance upon an Earth scarred by the remnants of a devastating nuclear war. The once-thriving planet now lay desolate, a haunting wasted land where life struggled to endure.

Against this backdrop of desolation, pockets of resilience clung desperately to existence. The common folk, locked in a ceaseless struggle for survival, faced a relentless sun that only the mutated or those encased in specialized armor could survive. It was in this harsh reality that the enigmatic Immortals emerged, god-like beings exploiting the vulnerabilities of the remaining human populace with an air of omnipotence.

The majority of humanity fought for mere existence in this unforgiving wasted land, caught in the cruel clutches of Immortal oppression. Their lives were marionetted by unseen deities. Elite warriors known as The Brotherhood, enforced the Immortals' will with an unyielding loyalty that cast a shadow across the desolation. Among the wasted lands wandered The Toxic, mutated by radiation and bearing the visible scars of their exposure to the burning nuclear fallout. Devotees of the Immortals, known as The Cursed, harnessed dark powers, spreading fear and enforcing their malevolent influence. Above the suffering, The Chosen, perfect humans bred in The Citadel, lived untouched by the horrors below, surrounded by an illusion of artificial perfection.

Leaders of the resistance, the Legends of the Vault, once denizens of the 89 Underground VAULTs, emerged as guardians of secrets hidden within. These shelters, remnants of a bygone era, held mysteries that could potentially shift the delicate balance of power in the wasted land.

Yet, shrouded in darkness, the origin of the Immortals remained an impenetrable mystery. No human had gazed upon them and lived to tell the tale. The struggle for survival persisted as the Legends of the Vault led the resistance against the oppressive reign of the Immortals and their formidable enforcers, The Brotherhood. The future of the shattered world hung precariously in the balance, awaiting a dawn that might never arrive. In this chronicle of the Red Dawn, hope flickered in the hearts of those who resisted, striving to reclaim a world lost to the cataclysmic echoes of a dying sun. CHAPTER 1: The Red Dawn Renegades

In the unforgiving wasted lands, a new resistance emerges known or better renown as The Red Dawn Renegades. Their origins are shrouded in mystery, their existence the stuff of whispered rumors. What makes them different from the other resistance movements that have failed against the Immortals is that the Renegades are said to be a coalition of survivors from all five factions. Their mere existence challenges the foundation of factional loyalty that has kept the wasted lands divided for centuries. The Renegades are not driven by self-preservation or survival; they are driven by a singular, burning desire to overthrow the Immortals and end their reign of terror.

Their symbol - a blood-red sun featuring a Golden Skull - has been spotted across the wasted lands. The Renegades strike with precision, infiltrating fortified Brotherhood outposts, sabotaging Cursed rituals, and even slipping past the watchful eyes of the Chosen’s sentries. Rumors suggest they possess secret knowledge from the Legends of the Vault, making them a dangerous wildcard in the war for the wasted lands. For the Lore enjoyers out there.

CHAPTER 2: The Return of the Queen

The wasteland knew no peace. Though the Immortals had been driven into the shadows and the Red Dawn Renegades roared in fleeting triumph, beneath the scorched crust of Earth and in the void above, something ancient stirred. Something they believed destroyed.

They had celebrated too soon.

High above the charred surface, the once-mighty Citadel, a gleaming orbital sanctuary, now drifted in silence. Its lights extinguished. Its signals dead. The Renegades declared the Queen defeated—consumed by the fury of their final assault, her physical form burned beyond recognition in the fires of rebellion.

But the Queen was never just flesh.

She was the first of the Immortals. Not born, but forged—her consciousness woven into the radiation of the dying sun. What was thought to be her death was merely a shedding. In the black depths of space, she reformed, her scorched bones stitched back together by solar filaments, her essence cocooned in the void.

And now, she returns.

As the Renegades danced in firelight, drank beneath shattered moons, and built fragile havens from the bones of the old world, they forgot her name. They spoke of new beginnings, of rebuilding, of freedom.

And that forgetfulness was her invitation.

She did not scream. She whispered—into the minds of warriors across the land. The strongest among them began to dream.

Dark dreams.

Twisted visions of a blood eclipse. Of a throne rebuilt in ash. Of a thousand souls screaming as they were pulled into a spiral of fire. One by one, Renegade champions awoke gasping, their eyes burned crimson, their skin cold as iron.

They were being harvested.

The Queen, in her ascended form, had initiated the Rite of Reclamation—a dark ritual of soul consumption born in the core of dying stars. The fractured and the unworthy were marked by an invisible brand, a smoldering curse that clung to their spirit.

Some fell into madness. Others vanished, their bodies found hollow, as if drained of purpose. And in the distance, where no one dared tread, pillars of flame rose from the earth—beacons of sacrifice, gateways through which the Queen siphoned strength.

But not all were lost.

Those who endured the dark visions, those whose will held firm, began to change. Hardened. Sharpened. Marked by the fire but unbroken. They were named the Favored, chosen to survive the culling, perhaps even to face the Queen herself in the battles to come.

And so the sky began to shift.

The Red Sun bled darker. The wind carried whispers from the old world. Ghosts of the Citadel echoed through cracked radios.

The Queen does not return as a tyrant. She returns as a goddess of vengeance, reborn through sacrifice, rising with the power of every consumed soul.

And her message, sent through fractured dreams, could no longer be ignored:

“You thought the end was behind you.”“You burned my body.”“Now I burn your world.”

To be continued in Chapter 3: The Ritual of Flame