Vireya in High Definition

Rain still tapped gently against the pavilion's roof, like the sky couldn't decide whether it was crying or just being dramatic.

Arkiz flipped to the next page of Cartographs and Currents: The Shaping of Vireya — and there it was.

A full world map.

The first proper look at the planet he now lived on.

And man, Vireya was massive.

Like Earth's big cousin who works out and drinks weird protein powder made of Aether.

He squinted at the colored continents, tracing their jagged outlines with a finger. Some parts looked kinda familiar — like off-brand versions of Earth's continents — but others were straight-up fantasy DLC.

_______

Arkiz tapped the eastern cluster with his finger.

Spiky coastlines, scattered volcanoes, desert belts. Looked like someone mashed together Europe and Asia, but in vertical.

Bottommost continent — namely Ignisar — ruled by humans in clans, sects, and empires. Basically a cultivation continent then.

"Damn, I really don't wanna go there. It will be a breeding ground for young masters and I really can't stomach them."

Now the uppermost continent, just above Ignisar, sat Thar'rok.

"Beastfolk continent. Rugged lands. Mountains, tundra, and giant cats that can talk and punch you in the face."

"So an inverted Europe and Asia. Bottom ruled by cultivation trope humans and top ruled by beastfolk, literally catgirls. Hmm, I might have to visit there for educational purposes, sometime then."

Then his eyes slid to the southwest of Ignisar — here lies another continent.

Caladria.

Lush. Fertile. Green as envy and just as dangerous during politics. In the past, wars and disputes occurred with the Ignisar residents over land.

"Well fertile lands are always in demand. Anyway, Dad's birthplace is also here. In his opinion, this is the place where nobles parade around and make sure you remember your place."

Typical nobility-governed continent — empires, kingdoms, dukes, etc.

To the north of the planet is—

Fyrholt.

Snowy. Quiet. Full of ice beasts and beastfolk who probably used icicles as back scratchers.

Basically, Canada during winter but with more fiery and volatile Karens.

To the far west?

Elarandor and Sylvaran, land of the elves.

All glittering forests, crystal rivers, and people who probably judged your posture from thirty meters away. Most elves lived further inland, but the Wood Elves claimed the southern forests nearest the sea.

"Basically North and South America. North is where the race supremacists like Moon and High Elves live — who even made them High tho? Is that a race thing? — anyway, the South is where the nature-loving elves live, Wood Elves. But here, there are some Beast-Lord-controlled areas too."

South of the planet is where yours truly —

Vaelmir Isles.

Home sweet home.

Smack dab in the middle of the Southern Sea, ruled by his family, the Rylas. And below them?

Zav'rok.

Not officially a continent, but too big to ignore — untamed, uncolonized, ruled by the so-called Beast Lords. Creatures that had evolved through Omniscript, rising from wild instinct to terrifying brilliance.

"Holy—so that's where the Ryla kids get sent to train after awakening. Nyra went there not long after hers, and when she came back? She was insanely strong. My turn's coming up soon, and I've got a lot to prepare before that hits. Sigh."

Now his eyes went to the center of the map—

Elysiar.

Yeah, that sounded cool enough.

A massive land governed not by race, but by power. A council of the strongest from every major race — humans, beastfolk, elves, sea folks, gnomes — gathered to pretend they weren't all secretly plotting against each other.

To the east of Elysiar, on a cozy little island?

Tinkardale, gnome territory.

Engineers. Inventors. People who'd strap a cannon to a squirrel if you gave them thirty minutes and enough gears.

Arkiz frowned thoughtfully. "They're protected now. Almost got wiped out a while ago. And now? Protected species. Like panda bears with more explosives."

And then — just barely scribbled in, surrounded by crosshatching and ominous swirling symbols — were the Null Zones.

"Here be problems," Arkiz muttered.

Not dungeons. Not natural disasters.

Just patches of Vireya where something was wrong. Dead wrong. Magic didn't flow. Aether didn't move. Omniscript became weird there or non-existent. And worse — sometimes, just sometimes — they spawned Nullborns.

Creatures without souls.

And there—below Zav'rok, near the edge of that wild, unofficial continent—an ominous black symbol swirled across the sea's surface. Not just there, though. Scattered across the map, in corners and coasts, small and large alike... they marked something wrong.

Arkiz shivered. Even the page seemed to flinch at their presence.

Whatever they were… they didn't belong here.