Humanity's second world

DungeonJanitor could only mutter a single, heartfelt, "What the actual fuck."

It really was just established. Yesterday.

DungeonJanitor was completely dumbfounded. They made the game and the trailer in a single day? Who were they trying to fool?

At this point, he didn't even know where to begin his critique. Resigned, he clicked the play button, ready to witness the promotional video that this one-day-old company had somehow produced.

The screen was black, but a tranquil, warm melody began to swell.

The picture slowly faded in.

It was a beautiful beastkin village. Gothic-style houses with red-tiled roofs were nestled amongst lush green trees. Children chased each other through the town square, their laughter echoing like silver bells. They all had fluffy animal ears and wagging tails, each one looking impossibly charming. Beastkin women wearing garlands of flowers hung laundry out to dry. A merchant threw open his shop shutters with a hearty shout.

The camera pulled back, the village shrinking into the distance, surrounded by golden wheat fields and the gentle smoke curling from chimneys. It was a perfect, peaceful slice-of-life portrait of a fantasy world.

Then, the scene changed. The music shifted, becoming cold and tense.

A human king with a grim face sat high upon a cold, iron throne, flanked by twelve knights in shining silver plate. Suddenly, the king raised his sword and swung it forward in a sharp, decisive arc. Though no words were heard, the murderous intent in his eyes was palpable.

It was the order to attack.

An iron torrent of an army poured out of the capital, their black banners bearing a fire dragon sigil whipping in the wind. A war of conquest had begun.

On a fortress wall, countless armored beastkin soldiers fought and bled. With a flash of magical light, the sky lost its color. A massive meteor fell from the heavens, crashing down and obliterating a section of the wall.

On the open plains, a squadron of heavy cavalry charged into the beastkin infantry. The clash of steel, the crunch of armor, the shrieks of warhorses—soldiers from both sides fell, their blood soaking the earth. At the center of the screen, a beastkin general's eyes turned crimson. Her body swelled to several times its size, transforming her into a massive, silver dire wolf with wings. Glancing back at her shattered defensive line, she threw herself into the human ranks with grim resolve.

Back in the once-peaceful village, squadrons of cavalry stormed through the streets, slaughtering everything in their path. Their blood-drenched swords were a terrifying sight.

DungeonJanitor watched, utterly enthralled, as these magnificent, cinematic scenes unfolded. The horror and brutality of the war made his heart pound. The heroic, tragic music made his blood boil.

He found himself wanting to be one of those beastkin soldiers, fighting to defend his home. Who wouldn't love those cute little creatures with their animal ears and tails? Besides, they were the ones being invaded.

In the end, the beastkin were defeated. Their capital was taken, and their king was crucified on his own throne. In a temple, the young fox-eared saintess wept hysterically. The statue of the Goddess of the Wilds before her had been toppled. The headless corpse of the Pope lay nearby, his blood staining the pure white walls. In a secret chamber, the youngest beastkin princess was handed over to a plainly dressed woman and spirited away.

The scene changed again. More than a decade had passed. The former beastkin kingdom was now a county of the conquering nation. The few beastkin who had survived eked out a miserable existence.

A sorrowful melody began to play as a montage of heartbreaking images appeared: beastkin being enslaved, whipped, bullied, and sold.

In a dark corner of Frostfell, the now-grown, beautiful saintess knelt before a small statue of her goddess, praying with tears in her eyes.

In a desolate forest, the beastkin princess, her body covered in scars, honed her Combat Arts. Gritting her teeth, she brandished a greatsword taller than herself, locked in a life-or-death struggle with a wolf.

The music began to swell. The saintess's prayers grew more desperate, the princess's battle more perilous. The two scenes started to merge.

Suddenly, the music stopped. All fell silent. In the distance, a church bell began to toll. The two scenes pulled apart, revealing a third in the center.

Outside a small town, a human boy in a straw hat gazed up at the sky. A necklace around his neck was emitting a soft, gentle glow. One by one, golden, spectral figures appeared around him. They had varied expressions, their faces full of curiosity, as if they had come from another world.

It was clearly the prelude to the players' arrival.

The screen faded to black. A few breaths later, lines of text slowly grew larger, appearing one after another.

Core computation by the super-AI Queen, for a 100% authentic gaming experience.

A joint production of ten great nations, lovingly crafted to be humanity's second world.

The strife of nations, the mysteries of sword and magic, the destiny of the beastkin—all await your discovery.

August 15th, the fantasy epic Continent of Destiny begins its first closed beta! Pre-order now!

The trailer ended.

DungeonJanitor's hand, gripping the mouse, was trembling slightly. His eyes remained glued to the now-black screen, his mind still reeling.

Suddenly, he shot up from his chair, slamming his hand on the desk, no longer able to contain his excitement.

"HOLY SHIT!" he roared. "If the game is anything like that trailer, I will hype this thing to the goddamn moon!"