History..!

Magentano was a nation born from ruin, a fragile coalition of once-independent territories now bound together in a desperate struggle for survival.

Located in what was once Western Russia, it stood upon the shattered remnants of the old world, its lands scarred by The Cataclysm—an event so devastating it ripped apart civilizations, reshaped continents, and forever altered the course of human history.

No one knew the true origins of The Cataclysm.

Some claimed it was divine punishment, others whispered of forbidden experiments gone wrong, and a few believed it was simply the inevitable collapse of an empire that had flown too close to the sun.

But whatever its cause, the result was undeniable.

The world as it was ceased to exist.

What had once been mighty kingdoms and sprawling metropolises became ashen wastelands, twisted ruins swallowed by nature—or something far worse.

Nations collapsed overnight, their borders erased by fire, war, and anarchy.

The skies burned.

The earth trembled.

And in the void left behind, new powers began to rise.

Magentano was one of them.

Born from the desperation of warlords, refugees, and shattered noble houses, it was not built on unity, but on necessity.

Its people had nothing left—no past, no home, no future—only survival.

And so, they forged a nation from the wreckage, carving out an existence in a land where the old laws no longer applied.

Yet even as Magentano rose, the echoes of The Cataclysm remained.

Ruins still whispered of lost empires.

The land itself bore scars of an event no historian could fully explain.

Two centuries ago, the earth itself convulsed

The sky burned, streaked with fire as if the heavens had been torn open.

The seas rose in fury, swallowing entire nations in a single night.

Mountains that had stood for millennia collapsed, only to rise again in unnatural shapes, twisted by forces beyond human comprehension.

When the chaos finally settled, the world was no longer the same.

Once-great cities were reduced to silent, crumbling tombs.

Empires that had ruled for centuries were wiped from existence, their names lost to history.

Even the very fabric of reality seemed altered—rivers flowed in reverse, lands that had never known ice became frozen wastelands, and the stars themselves seemed to shift in the sky.

No one knew the cause.

Some spoke of gods enacting divine punishment.

Others whispered of human ambition gone too far—of forbidden knowledge, terrible experiments, and doors that should never have been opened.

But in the end, none of it mattered.

The world had been reset.

In this new era, old borders meant nothing. Kings, lords, and rulers of the past were nothing more than dust, their legacies erased.

The survivors—those who clawed their way out of the ruins—had no choice but to forge a new world from the remnants of the old.

This was the world in which Magentano was born—not as a kingdom, nor an empire, but as a desperate bastion of survival in a land that had long since abandoned its creators.

Asia, once an unassailable titan among continents, had been irrevocably torn apart by forces beyond comprehension.

What was once a vast and diverse land teeming with life, history, and civilization had been reduced to a fragmented shadow of its former self.

Nearly half of its landmass had succumbed to the relentless embrace of the ocean, swallowed by the abyss where light and memory faded into oblivion.

The remnants of once-great nations now existed only in records and the fading echoes of those who survived to tell the tale.

Among the fallen, China—the former powerhouse of industry, economy, and cultural heritage—had suffered a fate beyond imagination.

Once the beating heart of global progress, it had been utterly erased, its landscapes and towering megacities obliterated as the tides surged forward like an unstoppable force of nature.

The colossal metropolises of Beijing, Shanghai, and countless others, once alive with the hum of millions, had been reduced to mere myths whispered among those who remained.

Not a single skyscraper stood to mark their existence, no highways led to their ruins, and no monuments remained to tell their stories—only an endless, undisturbed sea stretching where civilization once thrived.

Even the Great Wall, a structure that had defied the passage of millennia, had met its ultimate demise.

Once a symbol of resilience and human ingenuity, it now lay buried beneath the ocean's depths, broken and eroded by time and water.

What had once stood as an indomitable guardian of history had been reduced to scattered ruins, lost beneath shifting currents that carried away its legacy, leaving behind nothing but silence and an unrelenting void.

India had fared no better in the face of the cataclysm.

The once-magnificent subcontinent, home to one of the world's oldest civilizations, had been swallowed whole by the merciless tides.

Its sprawling cities, sacred rivers, and ancient temples—all testaments to millennia of human achievement—had been erased in a single, unfathomable moment.

The land that had once nurtured empires, from the Maurya to the Mughals, now lay beneath the endless expanse of the sea, its grandeur reduced to little more than a distant memory.

Only a fragment of its northeastern territory had managed to survive the devastation.

This lone bastion, the land known as Manipur, clung precariously to existence, its battered soil standing as the last remnant of a once-thriving nation.

Here, the survivors lived with the weight of the past pressing upon them, their dreams haunted by the ghosts of the drowned world.

Every day was a struggle against despair, a battle to preserve what little remained of their heritage.

The air was thick with stories of lost cities and submerged temples, whispered laments for loved ones who had vanished beneath the waves.

Manipur was no longer merely a state or a place—it was a monument to resilience, a fragile sanctuary standing against the abyss.

Yet even as its people endured, they could not escape the looming question that haunted their every step: how much longer could they hold on before the ocean came for them too?

But while the waters claimed the land, the earth itself refused to remain silent.

Where once the mighty Himalayas had stood, the very foundation of the world trembled, as if rebelling against the catastrophe that had reshaped the continent.

The ground split apart with a fury unknown to history, entire ridges collapsing while others surged skyward, their jagged forms defying reason.

The great peaks, once revered as the roof of the world, cracked and groaned under unseen forces, reshaping themselves into something far more formidable—something unnatural.

What emerged was no mere mountain range but a colossal, otherworldly formation unlike any seen before.

Its summits, sharp as blades and impossibly high, pierced the very heavens, casting vast, eerie shadows upon the broken world below.

The air around them grew thin and cold, filled with an unsettling silence that no living creature dared to break.

Legends spread like wildfire among the survivors.

They whispered of a presence lurking within the range's hollowed depths, an ancient force awakened by the earth's convulsions.

Some claimed the mountains had been cursed, that the upheaval had not been a mere act of nature but the stirring of something far older than humanity itself.

In the dead of night, beneath the spectral glow of a fractured moon, the winds carried voices—low, distant murmurs that seemed to echo from deep within the peaks, as though the mountains themselves had begun to speak.

The old world was gone, swallowed by time and disaster.

And in its place, a new age began.

Magentano had risen from the ashes of a fallen world.

But its survival—like that of every other remnant of humanity—was still uncertain.

As humanity emerged from the devastation, struggling to rebuild what had been lost, they began to adapt to the transformed world.

The very fabric of life itself had shifted, and in this new reality, a mysterious energy began to manifest within all living beings—

Mana.

Mana was an innate force, a radiant energy that resided within the minds of all creatures.

Unlike anything known before, it was a power that transcended mere survival, granting those who could wield it the ability to perform feats reminiscent of the magic once confined to myths and ancient fairy tales.

Over time, as civilization adapted, Mana became more than just a phenomenon; it became the cornerstone of human progress.

As generations passed, the influence of Mana spread rapidly, evolving and refining itself within individuals.

People no longer lived as they once did—every child born into this new world awakened an elemental affinity, a unique connection to the natural forces that governed existence.

Fire, water, wind, earth, lightning, and more—each individual was blessed with at least one of these elements, shaping the course of their destiny.

Yet, power was not distributed equally.

The noble houses and royal bloodlines, long accustomed to privilege, found themselves bestowed with an even greater gift.

Their Mana reserves far surpassed those of commoners, their potential honed by lineage and inheritance.

Unlike the masses, they possessed the rare ability to awaken multiple elemental affinities, elevating them above ordinary people.

This advantage ensured their dominance in a world where strength dictated survival, cementing their status as rulers, warriors, and the architects of humanity's rebirth.

However, humanity was not the only species to awaken to the presence of Mana.

Every living being—beasts, birds, and even the smallest of creatures—began to undergo drastic transformations.

Unlike humans, who could harness and control this newfound energy through intelligence and discipline, animals lacked the mental capacity to regulate the force surging within them.

The consequences were catastrophic.

Unable to adapt to the overwhelming influx of Mana, their bodies began to mutate, twisting into forms far beyond their natural limits.

Once-ordinary creatures—wolves, bears, serpents, and even insects—grew larger, stronger, and more resilient.

Their instincts sharpened, their senses heightened, and their aggression intensified.

They became something no longer bound by nature's original design—beasts of mana, monstrous entities imbued with unnatural strength, roaming the land as predators of an evolving world.

The higher the Mana concentration within a creature, the more unpredictable and fearsome its transformation.

Some beasts developed elemental affinities akin to humans, breathing fire, summoning storms, or manipulating the very earth beneath them.

Others evolved beyond the confines of flesh, their bodies fusing with the raw essence of magic itself.

To humanity, these abominations became the greatest threat to their survival.

Kingdoms and settlements were forced to adapt, strengthening their defenses and honing their warriors to combat this new breed of menace.

The line between civilization and wilderness blurred, as beyond the safety of human strongholds, the world belonged not to men, but to the creatures who had inherited its raw, unrestrained power.

With the rise of monstrous beasts, humanity had no choice but to fight back using the very power that had awakened within them.

Those who mastered the art of wielding Mana became known as Sages, the protectors and warriors of the new world.

Recognizing the need to train future generations, humanity established a grand institution dedicated to shaping young talents into formidable Sages.

Thus, the Deviants Academy was founded—a prestigious and unparalleled institution, the only one of its kind in the entire world.

Unlike noble houses and royal courts that favored bloodlines and status, this academy stood as a beacon of equality.

Regardless of whether a child was born a commoner or a noble, once they awakened their Mana, they were sent here to refine their abilities.

Titles, wealth, and lineage held no meaning within its walls; only talent, dedication, and the pursuit of power mattered.

The academy's strict yet just principles made it the most revered institution of its time.

It was not merely a school but a proving ground, a place where the weak became strong and the strong became legends.

Those who graduated from its halls went on to become warriors, scholars, and leaders—the backbone of humanity's survival against the relentless tide of mutated beasts.

To the world, Deviants Academy was more than an institution.

It was hope.

It was the future.

And for those who entered its gates, it was the beginning of their journey to true power.