A World of Magic and
In our hubris, we thought we had created our own salvation.
For nearly a quarter of a century we fought, consuming everything we could in the engines of total war. In the aftermath, everlasting peace felt achievable.
We were exhausted and depleted, but not broken. We had just begun to finish burying our dead and rebuilding our cities.
We turned to our own creations to save us; machines invented to gather the most precious resource of all: Cerisium.
It is 1941. In our hubris, we had created our own destruction.